“Sure,” he said. “It was great. But the way you basically leapt off the roof and ran for the woods immediately afterward kind of tipped me off that it was new to you.”
“It was not a leap,” I said. “I had somewhere to be.”
“In the middle of the night?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Okay,” he said, clearly humoring me.
We walked. I could practically feel his residual mirth.
“Was it your first…?”
He burst out laughing, and then stopped at my expression.
“Uh. Yes?”
I shoved him in the shoulder.
“I was a straight guy at a theatre camp, Kathleen,” Cal said. “What do you think?”
“Ew,” I said.
He just stood a little taller and walked ahead. I jogged to catch up with him. And then, with a glance to make sure that we were alone, I reached out and took his hand. I could feel him pause, could feel him take in the moment. Then he gave my fingers a squeeze, and we walked back to the train station.
CHAPTER 35
I was impressed with myself. We were halfway through previews, Cal and I were spending every night together, and no one suspected a thing. We wouldn’t know what the consensus was until opening night when reviews were released, but the whisperings had been good. And so had the sales.
“Explain to me again,” Cal said. “Which one is Trixie and which one is Katya?”
We were in my dressing room. He was behind me, rubbing my shoulders, his thumbs against the knots in my neck, his fingers spread out, warm and comforting across my clavicle.
“Trixie is on the left, Katya on the right,” I said.
“And their show is about…?”
“Whatever they want,” I said.
“Right,” Cal said.
I could tell that he still didn’t really get it, but considering he’d gotten a crash course in drag queens since we’d started—Sleeping together? Dating?—whatever we were doing, he was doing pretty well keeping track of all the new information I was throwing at him.
“You were great tonight,” Cal said, leaning in to kiss the line of my jaw.
I loved watching him in the mirror.
“I’m almost done,” I said. “Want to meet me at the subway station?”
Cal didn’t say anything, just let out a breath and kissed me again. I knew he hated all the sneaking around. All the pretending.
“It will be over soon,” I said, and patted his hand.
He gave me a smile, but no dimples.
“I know,” he said.
“We can order milkshakes when we get home,” I said.
The diner around the corner from my apartment was one of the few places still open after curtain call, so we’d made it a little routine to get dessert when we stayed at my place.
“Sure,” Cal said.
I wanted to kiss that worry wrinkle in the middle of his forehead away.
There was a knock and Cal moved back from me just in time.
He was on the other side of the room when Harriet entered.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” I said.
“We can go over the rest of my notes later,” Cal said.
“Notes?” Harriet teased. “We’re in previews—the show is great. What notes do you have to give?”
“I’m just doing my job,” Cal said.
“I know,” Harriet said. “But jeez, Cal, give it a break and stop riding your leading lady.”
Well, fuck.
My cheeks flamed red, and I caught Cal’s expression in the mirror before I ducked my head. He couldn’t have looked more guilty if he tried.
Harriet’s smile disappeared as she looked between the two of us. Her mouth went lax.
Cal cleared his throat.
So much for keeping it a secret. I should have known better.
“I’m…I have to…” He gave up. “Bye.”
The minute the door closed behind him, Harriet was facing away, arms crossed.
“You swore to me that nothing would happen,” she said.
“I know,” I said.
There was a long, heavy silence. Harriet lifted her head and looked over her shoulder at me. I was taken aback by the anger in her eyes, and yet, it was still easier to face than disappointment.
“You lied,” she said.
“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
She let out a breath, closed her eyes, and shook her head.
“No,” she said. “No, you’re not.”
I knew that arguing with her was the worst thing I could do.
“You feel bad,” she said. “But you’re not sorry.”
The room seemed to fill to the brim with her disgust.
“I never ask you for anything, you know?” Her fists were clenched. “In all our years of friendship, I’ve been there for you. The loyal little follower, going from place to place with you—being your support system, being your friend, your assistant, your family.”
“Yes,” I said. “You have.”
“And how do you repay me?” she asked.
I hung my head.
“It was one thing to lose the record deal all those years ago,” Harriet said. “I stood by you, even when you took down your career and mine in the same fucking night. When you ruined the best opportunity I’d had in years to make it as a songwriter. And now?”
She was so angry.
“I am not going to let your bullshit drama and inability to keep it in your pants ruin this production,” she said.
“No one knows,” I said. “You’re the only one.”
She looked at me with disbelief and disgust.
“Are you joking?” she asked. “You think you can keep this a secret?”
I lifted my chin stubbornly, but she just laughed.
“This will get out,” she said. “And that’s all anyone will be talking about. Not about the show, certainly not about my music, but you. It will all be about you and your foolish, stupid romance with Cal.”
“I didn’t plan for this to happen—”
“No, of course not,” Harriet said. “You never plan for any of this, Kathleen, and that’s the problem.”