Engaging Men (41 page)

“Hey, maybe we should start jamming again,” C.J. was telling him now, “or now that you’re a big singer-songwriter, maybe you should try recording a demo instead,” he continued.

“Yeah, sure, man. Right after I finish this beer,” Justin said,

lifting his glass and laughing as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Suddenly I wondered if Kirk was right—maybe Justin wouldn’t know an opportunity if it kicked him in the head. Or maybe he would—only he ran from life’s golden chances as far as he could. Like when he’d dropped the film after it won the award, or fell in love with Lauren the minute she’d stepped on the plane for Florida.

Suddenly everything fell into relief. All of my friends were commitment-phobes. Colin, smiling hopefully into Justin’s face, as if he had a chance—if there was one thing I was sure about Justin, it was that he was heterosexual. Grace, who bent close to Claudia, probably to avoid the gaze of the guy who had been staring at her from across the bar for the past twenty minutes.

And Justin, I thought, watching as Jenna bounded over to our table with another drink for him. He was the worst offender. Because he not only kept his love at a distance, he kept his dreams there, too.

And if there was one thing I had learned over these past few weeks of auditioning, that was the biggest crime of all.

One by one, everyone left the bar. C.J. and Danielle first, as they had to get back to Westchester. Grace left with Claudia so they could share a cab uptown, and I thought Colin might stay all night, hanging on Justin’s every word, but even he eventually felt the heaviness of the late hour and called it a night.

Leaving me and Justin to share the walk across town alone.

“So it looks like this night turned out to be pretty good after all, huh?” I said.

“Yeah.” He smiled at me, then gazed pensively down at the sidewalk.

“So why don’t you pursue it? Put together another show. Maybe you can even record a demo, like C.J. suggested.”

He laughed. “Yeah, maybe. But I was just kinda doing this on a goof, you know? I’m not sure it’s really what I want to do—”

“Justin!” I said, stopping in my tracks and turning to look at him. “Don’t you see what you’re doing?”

“What?” he said, staring at me, perplexed.

“You jump from one thing to the next, never making anything of the opportunities you have. The crowd loved you tonight. You have a good friend in the recording industry who might be able to help you—”

“I know. I know. You’re right…” he said, his voice trailing off. Then, as if he wanted to change the subject, he said, “So I heard Colin going on about that contract for Rise and Shine. Sounds like he’s going to take it.” He glanced at me. “Are you?”

I sighed, all the doubts I’d been having rushing to the forefront of my mind. “I don’t know. It could be an opportunity…”

“Or the death of opportunity.”

“Sometimes you have to make decisions, Justin—commitments—in order to be able to move forward in life.”

“Do you really think that show is going to move you forward?”

“No,” I admitted. “But it could give me some level of…of security. I was thinking I might just take it. I could still keep auditioning.”

“But what if you get another gig? What if something comes along that requires you to relocate to L.A.? Like a movie. Hey, did you ever hear anything back about that audition for that independent movie? What was it called?”

“All for Love. And no, I didn’t get a callback,” I said, then amended myself. “Well, I did get a call from the casting director. He thought I had potential, but that I wasn’t right for the part.”

“Ange, that is amazing!” Justin exclaimed, stopping to look at me. “Casting directors never call you unless they really think you have something going on. That bodes well.”

I looked up at him hesitantly. “He did say he had something else in mind. That he’d call me if it came up. But then he never called…”

Justin shook his head. “You talk about me not seizing my opportunities, Ange, but look at you—this guy saw something in you. The very same something that I see and others saw when you were acting on the stage. You have to see that something— you have to believe in it.”

“But what good is believing in your talent if you never get a chance to use it?”

He laughed. “Oh, so you’re going to sign a contract that pretty much guarantees you won’t have a chance to use it? You know, there are other ways of blowing your opportunities, Ange. Like taking the wrong opportunity.”

He was right, I realized now. If I did get another gig that conflicted with Rise and Shine, it would be a big mess to get out of my contract. “But how do I even know I’ll ever get another gig?” I asked, suddenly knowing the real reason why it hadn’t occurred to me this might happen. I didn’t see any impending conflict coming because I didn’t believe any other opportunities were coming my way. “This might just be my last chance to make something of myself.”

“Angie, you’re crazy to think that. You’re beautiful, talented. You have a casting director calling you back just to tell you he saw something in you. That doesn’t happen to everyone, you know.” Justin smiled. “And don’t forget, you do live in the best city in the world. Anything is possible here. I mean, look at me—I was up there singing about a fucking azalea, and the crowd loved it. You never know when you’re gonna hit that right chord. You just have to be ready to jump on it and ride with it when the moment comes.”

He was making a lot of sense. Maybe it wasn’t about making commitments. Maybe it was about making the right commitment.

I looked up, realizing we were already at our building. Justin pulled out the key and let us in, and I bounded up the stairs ahead of him, feeling lighter than I had felt in a long, long time.

“Man, I’m beat,” Justin said, letting us into the apartment. “You gonna hit the hay?”

I nodded, smiling up at him. “Thanks, Justin.”

“For what?” he said, turning to look at me.

“For reminding me that I still have a chance.”

He smiled. “Angie, if anyone has a chance, it’s you,” he replied putting his arms around me and pulling me toward him in a hug.

That’s when I felt it—the same zing that had sprung up when he’d given me that good-luck kiss. And clearly Justin felt it, too, because suddenly he was practically tripping over sofa #3 to get away from me.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” he said, eyes averted as he darted into his bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

What the hell was that? I thought, still feeling the warmth from where he’d pressed his body to mine.

I knew exactly what that was. Which was probably why I went into my bedroom, closed the door and locked it—in some vain attempt to shut out whatever madness had just crossed both our minds.

Because it was mad, really. Clearly we’d both had too much to drink. Or something.

And with that thought, I got ready to go to bed.

Though I would swear I didn’t sleep a wink.

Kirk did call me the next day to confirm that we were, in fact, still moving ahead with our plan for that evening. He didn’t even mention his grand exit the previous night, which I found odd, since I was still stewing over his attitude problem as far as Justin was concerned. I guessed things like people’s feelings didn’t matter to Kirk—though I was still irritated at him. But of course I didn’t have time to voice my irritation. “If you meet me on the corner of Forty-seventh and Fifth by four-thirty, we should have plenty of time to shop before I have to catch my plane. Just don’t be late, Angie,” he warned.

“Are you sure you can squeeze me in?” I said sarcastically, probably in reaction to his implication that I was often less than punctual.

“I can if you’re not late.”

Yeah. Sure.

I hung up the line and found Michelle gawking at me. Apparently she had overheard my whole conversation.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were fucking going to Rudy’s?” Michelle said, her face a mixture of indignation and glee.

Why hadn’t I? Probably because I had so much on my mind, between auditioning, Justin’s show, that damn contract…

Oh, right, the contract. I still needed to call Colin and see what he had found out from his agent about what we could expect. Because I certainly couldn’t give it up without knowing exactly what I was giving up.

“Um, I’ll be right back,” I said to Michelle, who was clearly going to launch into some pre-ring-shopping advice, judging by the way her jaw snapped shut as I leaped from my chair and rushed to an available phone in one of the back offices. I had to have this conversation in complete private.

But my conversation with Colin only confirmed my decision that I couldn’t possibly sign the contract. At first, as he babbled excitedly about the money, the health benefits, I almost lost heart. Until he told me that the term of the contract was three years. And that it included a no-compete clause. Apparently the network was hoping to cash in on some advertising tie-ins if the show took off as expected. And they didn’t want me or Colin tainting the wholesome Rise and Shine image by appearing in anything that might even remotely endanger that. Any other gig we considered would require the network’s approval, and I wasn’t likely to get that for anything stronger than Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. Fuhgetaboutit. When I hung up the phone, I felt a tidal wave of relief. So my Rise and Shine days were almost over. I was glad to be certain about something in my future for a change.

But my happiness was short-lived when I returned to my cubicle and found Michelle waiting to deluge me with all sorts of advice about the next big commitment I was about to make. Of course, she went on and on about the ring. All I could think about was the man…

I was in a tangle of nerves as I scrambled out the door at the end of my shift. Of course, it was already four-fifteen. Not that that was my fault—the delay was due to a last-minute customer who was torn between two aquamarine T-shirts, one V-neck the other a boat-neck. I should have such problems.

Once I hit the sidewalk out front of the building, I immediately craved a cigarette. Fortunately I was so used to puffing

one on my way out of work nowadays, I had popped my recently purchased pack into my bag that morning.