His Dream Role (8 page)

As they walked back to the locker room, Cary asked, “Where's your head today, man? You haven't cracked one joke.”

“Other stuff on my mind.”

“Like the reason you didn't make it home last week?”

“Yeah, Samantha is part of it. I have a lot going on right now.”

“Anything I can help with?”

Free shook his head. “Not now.”

“If you're sure. See you at home later?”

“Yeah. Take these for me, will you?” He handed Cary the hat and sword and stuffed the eye mask in his pocket. He left the gym and walked the short distance to the shop. Samantha was already seated at a table instead of waiting in line for him like she usually did. She had two cups of coffee in front of her and her laptop open. Her face brightened when she saw him. He didn't think he'd ever get used to that feeling.

“Hi.” He kissed her cheek, which was warm against his cold lips. Since he enjoyed her soft cheek, he moved to take her lips. At the contact, his muscles eased a fraction.

“Hello,” she said against his lips when he pulled back. “Cute fake mustache.”

“I am Zorro.” He took the seat across from her. “You didn't need to buy my coffee for me.”

“It's not like you have a complicated order for me to remember. Plus, I wanted to save a few minutes to show you this.” She pointed at the laptop.

“What?”

“You know all those pictures I took of you in your costumes?” She bubbled with excitement. “I uploaded them to Reddit.” She turned the screen to face him.

He sat, stunned, as she scrolled down the page.

“I think what you're doing for Cary is huge, and I wanted you to be recognized for the good deed. I wanted people to know that there are people who do selfless things. What I didn't expect is this.” She pointed at the screen where a list of photos of him in costume stared back. “In the last hour, I've gotten over two hundred comments.”

Free flicked his gaze at her and then back at the screen. His heart raced faster than it had on his very first opening night. Thousands of people would see this. His stomach knotted. “You shouldn't have done this.”

“Why? It's no big deal. Read the comments. Sure, there are some that are trolls who say horrible things about you, but most of them are written by people who are truly impressed with you. You should be proud of yourself.”

“I didn't do this for recognition. And crap. My dad will hate this.” Anger and confusion boiled up in his chest. The frustration over his father's expectations and the surprise hit from Samantha had him clamping his jaw tight. He tried to tell himself that she meant well.

“This is good, Free. People are commenting on how good your costumes are and how well you transform yourself. They can see what a good actor you are.”

He closed the laptop. “But I don't want this kind of attention. I'm sure Cary wouldn't appreciate it. The whole idea of me dressing up was to draw attention
away
from him.”

She stiffened. “I wasn't trying to embarrass Cary. I thought you'd like the recognition.”

“You thought wrong. Please tell me you didn't use my name.”

Her face dropped and a rock settled in his gut.

“No. I wasn't trying to invade your privacy. I thought this would be fun. I'm sorry.”

He'd upset her, and the look on her face scared him a little, but he couldn't console her right now. He was pissed. She'd taken something that was personal and laid it out for the whole world to see. This wasn't him onstage where he expected an audience. This was about helping his brother.

He thought she understood that.

“I need to go. I'll talk to you later.”

He turned and walked out the door without looking back. He didn't even remember to grab his coffee.

The tension and frustration he'd felt after meeting with his dad returned twofold, and he had no idea how to make it disappear.

F
ree left the coffee shop with no real plan. He was mad and frustrated and didn't know what to do about it. Before long, he found himself pulling into the lot of Comic Universe. Adam's mom owned the place, and although Adam worked there, Free always associated it as their place to hang out. At least it had been through high school. With the demands of college and work, they didn't hang out in the store too much anymore.

He walked into the shop and stood for a moment to let the peace wash over him. The place never changed. Adam's mom, Bonnie, often talked about moving things around or rearranging the entire store, but she never did. He could find any series in the store even if he was blindfolded. Adam stood at his desk, seemingly oblivious to his entrance.

“Hey,” Free called.

Adam looked over his shoulder as he put a paper on his drawing desk. Adam had mentioned that he was working on a comic anthology with a girl he'd met at the shop. From the look on Adam's face, the drawing wasn't going well. “What are you doing here?”

“Shitty day, so I thought I'd come hang out.”

“No rehearsal?”

“Opening weekend just passed, so we're getting a break.”

“What about the new girl? Hunter said you found a date to the party.” He leaned against the counter by the register.

Free took off his coat and laid it on the glass. “I did. Her name is Samantha, and right now, I'm kind of pissed at her.”

“It's never good if the fighting starts this early in a relationship.”

“It's not a fight. She did something and I got mad. I might've overreacted, but I was already frustrated with my dad.”

“Where do you want to start? Samantha or your dad?”

“Samantha's been taking pictures of me in costume when we meet for coffee. She snaps a shot on her phone after Cary's workout. I thought nothing of it when she asked. I figured she had a good laugh about it. Then today, she tells me she uploaded the pictures to Reddit with the story explaining why I'm dressing up.”

“Oh.”

“I don't know what she was thinking.”

“It's a pretty damn good story.”

Free let out a huge sigh. Yeah, he'd overreacted to Samantha's actions. “I never thought about it being a story. I was worried about my brother.”

“But it's the kind of headline we all click on from Yahoo or Buzzfeed.”

Adam was right. He'd click if it hadn't been about him. “I just came from meeting with my dad, so I was already kind of wound up. He wants me to come to the company holiday party to network. As if that's not bad enough, he felt the need to point out that I should leave the costumes and actor talk at home. When I got to the coffee shop to meet with Sam, I just wanted to relax.”

“You were a total dick, weren't you?”

Free stared at his friend.

“I know you. You're like the most laid-back person until you freak out. Going to the party freaked you out and then the idea of your dad seeing the Reddit post pushed you over the edge. I don't even need to know what you said or did. Just call her and apologize.”

The upside to having friends who knew you as long as Adam and Hunter had was that they didn't mince words. They'd call your bullshit without even blinking. Of course, Adam was right. He needed to apologize.

Free walked around the counter and sat on a stool near Adam. “I'm dreading the party.”

“It's just a stupid cocktail party.”

“I know my job. My dad knows I know it. I'm a numbers guy, but he wants me to network. I suck at it.”

“I'm no social wonder, but even I can manage a cocktail party. You do fine at our parties.”

“Those parties are filled with people I already know. We have things to talk about.” He straightened the cuffs on his long sleeves.

“Maybe you're looking at this all wrong. Treat it like any other role you play.”

Adam made sense. Free had no idea why the thought had never occurred to him before. He'd spent so much time keeping those two parts of his life separate that he hadn't considered how he could use the skills from one to help in the other.

He'd have to give some more thought to who he'd need to be. Although the Doctor would be his automatic choice, he wasn't sophisticated enough.

“Have you asked Samantha to be your date for New Year's Eve?”

“Yeah, assuming she'll still come after today. How about you? You have a date?”

“Kind of.”

“Cop-out.”

“Reese agreed to be my date, but she's not my girlfriend or anything. We're just working together, and when Hunter started talking about the party, I blurted out that she was my date.”

Free studied his friend's face. “You blurted something. Now I know you're full of shit. You don't blurt. Maybe the real question is why she isn't your girlfriend.”

“Because I don't want her to be.”

“Why not?”

“It's complicated.” Adam hopped off his stool and walked to the other side of the counter.

“Did you have sex?”

“No, but I made the mistake of kissing her and now I can't stop thinking about it. We're better off as friends, though, especially working together.”

“You say that like you're trying to convince me, but I think it's you who needs the convincing.”

“Shut up.” Adam suddenly became invested in reorganizing a box of comics.

“Hunter's right. We are pitiful. Did you at least buy Reese a Christmas present?”

Adam nodded. “We're not going to see each other on the holiday or anything, but I have something to give to her at the party.”

“I don't know what to get for Samantha. We've only been on a couple of dates, but I did spend the night at her apartment. She's my girlfriend, but it's new.” Free stood and walked down an aisle brushing his fingers over the comic books. “There should be some kind of guidebook for guys like us.”

“Keep it simple. I got Reese a Batgirl bobblehead doll and some notebooks that she likes to write in.”

“That doesn't help.”

“What does Samantha like?”

“Fancy coffee. Books.” Shit, that was lame. He didn't even know what things his new girlfriend liked. Made it hard to plan for a gift.

“Get her coffee and flowers. All girls like flowers.” Adam sounded relieved not to be discussing his own sad love life.

They left the topic of women and discussed the New Year's Eve party and comics for a while before Free decided to leave. He had plenty to think about, starting with an apology.

Sam didn't know how things had gone so wrong with Free. He was so upset, he didn't even drink his coffee. She'd deleted the post as soon as he'd left, and she sincerely hoped that no one had copied it anywhere else. After all, it had only been up a couple of hours.

She really wished Free could understand that the attention could be a good thing for him. She'd thought a little exposure might garner him more acting jobs. Any publicity was good, right? At least she'd thought so.

Once home, she kicked off her heels and changed into her faded yoga pants and ripped T-shirt along with fluffy socks. She eyed her computer, knowing she had to finish the case study and submit it before the end of the week. It was the last assignment for the semester, then she was free. To be with Free.

She opened a bottle of wine and thought about calling him to apologize again. He'd had some time to cool off, so they could probably talk. What if she called and he didn't answer? Then her mind would wander about where he might be and she'd start to think he was like her previous boyfriends. But Free was different and she refused to give in to that kind of thinking.

With her glass of wine, she opened her laptop and the case study. She'd need the wine to get through it. She loved the idea of being a social worker, but she had yet to learn how to distance herself from the problems of the people she worked with. Her eyes filled with tears as she reread her notes on the young girl who had been removed from her home because of abuse.

This wasn't even a real child that she knew. Her professor had issued samples for the class to write up and defend how they would approach a client. After another sip of wine to fortify her, she dove in and began typing. Paperwork shouldn't upset her. It was the most mundane part of the job.

Fifteen minutes into working, her phone buzzed with a text from Free.

Her stomach flipped. Surely, if he were still upset, he wouldn't want to see her. She stared at the computer screen. If Free came over, there was the distinct possibility that this paper wouldn't get finished tonight. So she'd work until he arrived.
I'm home.

He didn't say how close he was or how long it would take, so she called down to the doorman and told him to send Free up when he arrived. In the meantime, she focused on her case study. By the time she finished writing the narrative for the child, tears streamed down her face.

And then there was a knock on her door. Shit. She hadn't thought Free would get there so quickly. She swiped at the tears and took a quick gulp of wine.

Sam opened the door with a smile, but Free's face was filled with something other than happiness at seeing her. Maybe he was still pissed.

“What's wrong?” He rushed through the door and cradled her face with both of his hands. His thumbs caressed her cheeks.

“Nothing.”

“You've been crying.”

She rolled her eyes. “I was working on my final case study for the semester and the story of this kid makes me sad.”

Instead of stepping away from her and laughing, he leaned forward and kissed her lips gently. He eased back and rested his forehead against hers. “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

“It's the job. I need to get a thicker skin so it doesn't get to me so easily.”

“I'm sorry for everything, especially the way I acted at the coffee shop.”

“I'm sorry, too. I had no malicious intent.”

Now he did laugh. “I never considered that. I don't think it's even possible.”

As he pulled away, his fingers brushed her skin so achingly gently that she wanted to curl around him and beg for more. He held her hand and led her to the couch. They sat and Free stared at their linked hands.

“I love to dress up and act. It's part of who I am. I know that when I get up on a stage, people are going to stare at me. When I started dressing up so Cary would work out, my entire intention was to get people to stare at me so he'd be more comfortable. But it was always about him.”

Sam nodded. “I know. I just wanted other people to know that people like you are out there doing selfless things.”

“What if the story gets bigger, gains traction? People would be all over Cary. And like I said, my dad would hate it.”

“I already deleted it. The post is gone, so I doubt it'll gain traction anywhere. As soon as you left, I deleted it.” She stood and walked to get her glass of wine. She took a gulp without turning around. “I spend so many days surrounded by horrific things. People who have had cruel things done to them. You are a bright spot in my day. I just wanted others to see.”

Suddenly his arms were back around her. “Why do you do it?”

“Because they need help. I feel like I'm making a difference.”

“I'm glad I can be a bright spot for you. You're much more than that for me, and I feel like a total shit for the way I acted. I had a frustrating day and I took it out on you.”

She set her glass down and turned in his arms. “Next time, just say so.”

“I'll try. In case you haven't noticed, words aren't always my friends.”

“I think you do fine.” She ran her hands down his chest and torso. Then lower. “I know an excellent way to ease frustration.”

“You do?” He swallowed hard while she stroked him through his pants.

She nodded. “Go have a seat on the couch. You want a glass of wine?”

“Sure.” He backed away from her, his eyes not leaving hers until she turned to the kitchen to get a glass. She poured the wine and took it to him. After he accepted the glass, she knelt in front of him. Leaning forward, she started to unbutton his shirt, kissing the exposed skin.

When she reached for the button on his pants, he jumped and grabbed his glass with two hands. “What are you doing?”

“Easing your frustration by returning the favor from the other morning.” With a gentle hand on his chest, she pushed him back. “Enjoy your wine, but don't spill it. I like this couch.”