Stage Fright (Bit Parts) (17 page)

But as I snuggled next to Andrew once more, a picture of Darryl flashed on the screen.  The TV remote slipped from my hand.  The anchor said, “In another story, twenty-four-year-old Darryl Pitkin is still missing…”

He wasn’t missing; he’d been torn to bits by rogue vampires.  I touched the burn on my neck, thinking about my attack.  Those monsters had been human once.  I also considered the hidden vampire victims.  Those people who now lived in a beak, empty world because their shine had been stolen.  Perry and Isaiah could fight off the monsters, but they couldn’t stop them from being created.  Not unless someone did something.

Someone like me.

I slipped out of bed and dug my cell phone out of my purse.  Quickly, I texted Isaiah. 
I’ll be ur spy.

Chapter Twelve

The next morning, the aroma of chocolate lured me into the kitchen.  Andrew stood at the stove.  Every surface of the kitchen was covered with freshly-made pies, plates of cookies, and other sweets.

Andrew looked over his shoulder and grinned at me.  “You’re just in time for breakfast!”

I sagged into a chair, shoving aside an apple pie and a container of macaroons.  “You’ve been busy.”

He turned back to the stove.  “Cooking helps me think.”

He must have been awake for hours, but I’d been too deeply asleep to notice.  A surprise, considering that all night I’d been plagued with nightmares of vampires, psycho ex-boyfriends, and actors dangling above a stage like helpless puppets.

Breakfast was banana pancakes with some kind of bittersweet chocolate sauce whose smell alone added ten pounds to my figure.  I ate until I felt sick and even then, my mouth was demanding more.

I put a hand to my bulging stomach.  “You can’t cook like this all the time.”

“Not with what’s in your kitchen, I can’t.  When’s the last time you bought groceries?  I wanted to make paprika chicken for lunch, but you don’t have any chicken.  Or paprika!”  He showed me a picture of stuffed mushroom caps on his iPad.  “What do you think of this as an appetizer for dinner?”

His post-breakup cooking binge was going to boost me six dress sizes.  “Sorry, but I won’t be here for dinner.  I have to work a shift at my uncle’s restaurant.”

He stuck out his lower lip in a pretty pout.  “Fine.  Have it your way.  But can I borrow your car while you’re working?  I want to get to the gym and then run some errands.  Where’s the nearest Whole Foods?”

“Andrew!  You can’t afford to shop there.”  That grocery store chain was nicknamed Whole Paycheck for a reason.

 He shrugged.  “I’m a foodie, what can I say?”

“Yes, but now you’re an
unemployed
foodie.  You should be eating store-brand spaghetti sauce and boxed mac and cheese like the rest of us poor actors.”

He drew back, appalled.  “Never!”  Then, seeing my frown, he said, “Don’t worry, Cassie.  I won’t leech off of you.  I’ll pay my share of rent or whatever.”

“I won’t charge you rent since I don’t have to pay it myself, but there are utilities.  And if you really are going to do all your shopping at Whole Foods, you’ll need to buy your own groceries since I can’t afford to eat like that.”

“I understand.”  He sighed.  “I’m just not used to paying my own bills.  I’ve never even had my own bank account.  When I was still at home, my dad handled all of the money.  Even my mom didn’t get a say.  If I had my own cash, my dad told me what to spend it on.  ”

Poor guy.  It was like he’d never been allowed to grow up.  It also sounded like Caleb and his father were cut from the same cloth.  No wonder Andrew had allowed his ex-boyfriend to run his life.

I mentally tallied Andrew’s expenses, and when I told him how much he’d need every month, he blanched.  “I’ve got to get a job.  And soon.”

“There’s always
16 Voices
.”

“Yeah, about that.”  He avoided my eyes.  “I couldn’t sleep last night because I was thinking.  A lot.”  He took a deep breath.  “I’m giving up acting.”

For a moment, I was too stunned to speak.  Then I said, “You can’t!  Acting is your dream.”

He stared at his empty plate.  “That’s just the thing.  It’s
not
my dream.  I went into acting because Caleb pushed me into it.  I don’t mind it, but I don’t
love
it.  Not like you.”  His finally raised his eyes to meet mine.  “It’s time for me to switch gears.”

“And do what?”

He picked up his iPad and made a few swipes with his finger.  “Look!  Did you know there’s a culinary arts school here in Motown with three master chefs on staff?”  He showed me a webpage of course listings from the college.  “They’ve got scholarships, and they can help me get financial aid.”  He grinned.  “I’m going to apply for the winter semester.”

The sparkle in his eyes said that he was as passionate about cooking as I was about acting.  Although it was disappointing that we wouldn’t be chasing the same dream, I loved how his face glowed.  “You should definitely go for it!”

“Do you really mean that?” he asked shyly.

“Of course I mean it!”  I leaned over and hugged him.  “You’ll be a wonderful chef.”

He hugged me back tightly.  “Thanks, Cassie.  It’s so good to have someone in my corner.”

“When I’m a famous actress, I promise to sign a head shot and let you hang it on the wall of your restaurant.”

“And will you star in a commercial?” he asked.  “Maybe sing a catchy jingle or something?”

“Only if you’ll sing it with me.”

He laughed.  “It’s a deal.”

As I was dressing, Isaiah called.  I eagerly picked up, expecting to hear a voice like warm caramel on the other end of the line.

Unfortunately, his voice was more like
scorched
caramel.  “What do you mean you’ll be our spy?  I thought we agreed that you were staying away from the Bleak Street!”  His outraged baritone could have started an avalanche.

“Well, good morning to you, too,” I said lightly.  “Did someone forget to take his SPD meds today?”

There was a brief pause.  When he spoke again, his tone was slightly softer.  “The Bleak Street isn’t safe.”

“I won’t be at the Bleak Street.  Auditions were moved to Mercury Hall.”

“Which is another of Hedda’s interests.  That place is off limits, too.” 

Actually, since sending that text, I’d been having second thoughts as well.  I wasn’t sure if I was prepared to go back among the vampires.  But whenever I remembered finding Darryl’s severed foot, my resolve returned.  One way or another, I had to stop the rogue vampire plague. 

I stood up and closed the bedroom door, aware that Andrew was probably hanging on every word.  “Listen, Perry said that you needed a spy, right?  So far I don’t see anyone lining up to fill that job.  Didn’t I give you a lot of great information last night?”

He didn’t say anything, but I pictured him glaring.

“No ‘buts’; I’m going to do this.”  I softened my voice.  “Don’t worry; I’ll be careful.”

“You don’t know how to be careful!”

“You said the rogues can’t come out during the day, right?  So I don’t have to worry about them.  And as for, Victor, well…” I suppressed a shudder, remembering how casually he’d fed off Darryl.  “… I’ll wear a giant crucifix.  No, I’ll wear
ten
giant crucifixes, and I’ll spread myself with garlic butter.  I’ll shower in holy water!  I’ll stuff my purse with wooden stakes and carry a mirror like a shield.  How’s that?”

He snorted.  “Not good enough.”

I bit my lip.  If I wasn’t careful, Isaiah was liable to talk me out of spying.  Still, I
had
to do my part to keep the rogues under control.  No one should have to end up like Darryl or endure what I had gone through.  “I’m going,” I said firmly.

Isaiah gave in with a sigh.  “I guess I can’t stop you.  But afterwards, I want you at the store so I can train you how to take out a rogue.”

“Unfortunately, I have to work this afternoon, and my friend is borrowing my car, so I won’t have a ride.”  I hesitated.  “But you could pick me up.  If you wanted to.”

His voice finally softened to the warm caramel sound I’d been longing to hear.  “I’d be happy to pick you up.”

I decided to press my luck a little more.  “Now, before you hang up, I want you to stop being a vampire hunter for a few seconds and tell me something normal.  Something nice.”  Phone conversations always bring out the flirt in me.

“Your ‘showering in holy water’ speech made me smile, and I like having someone to smile with.”

He hung up before I could respond, but when I put the phone into my pocket, I had a large smile of my own.

Andrew sat in the kitchen reading a battered Betty Crocker cookbook that my mother had gotten as a bridal shower gift thirty years before.

“If you’re looking for that moussaka recipe, you’ll never find it in there,” I said.  “My mom took her best recipes with her to Florida.”

“It figures,” he said, closing the book.

I grabbed my coat, and dug in the bottom of my purse for my keys. 

“Where are you going?” he asked.  “I didn’t think you had to work until this afternoon.”

“Work on
16 Voices
starts today.” b

“You’re really going to be Charles’s stage manager again?”  When I sighed and nodded, he said, “Funny how the title ‘stage manager’ starts with S and M.”  He pushed the cookbook aside and stretched.  “How about if I tag along?  I don’t want a part, but I can help you with auditions.  It will be like
American Idol
, acting edition.  We can be Paula and Simon.”

I hesitated.  As much as I wanted Andrew’s company, taking him to vampire central wasn’t an option.

Sensing my reluctance, he said.  “Or I can just stay here and clean up.  No offense, Cassie, but your housekeeping skills are pretty lame.  When’s the last time you mopped the floor?”

Andrew plus boredom might result in a clean house, but a clean house might result in someone making an offer.  And if someone made an offer, then I could find myself evicted. Maybe I should let him tag along.  Then I scolded myself.  I couldn’t lead an unsuspecting lamb into a hungry lion’s den.  If my parents’ house sold because of Andrew, then so be it.  At least he’d be safe.

Before I left, Andrew asked for his cell phone back.  I dug it out of the box of tampons where I’d hidden it.

He made a face.  “Well, that’s not disgusting or anything.”

I patted his back.  “It’s all part of having a female roommate.”

Andrew listened his voice mail.  At his stricken expression, I told him to put the phone on speaker.

Altogether, there were ten messages.  Hearing them back-to-back was like flipping through the pages of a flick book where each individual picture creates a moving image.  Only in this case, instead of seeing a bouncing ball or a rising sun, we saw a portrait of a man who was losing control.

Caleb’s first two messages started out all right.  “Hey, Drew.  I’m sorry, okay?  Where are you?”

That rapidly progressed to the ‘poor me’ stage.  “Where are you?  You know I’ve been having a really shitty week, so why are you acting like this?”

The final two were the worst.  “Where the fuck are you?  You’d better get your ass home.  Don’t be such a little bitch!”

Andrew’s face grew paler with each message.  When they finished playing, he shoved his phone at me.  “Hide this again, will you?”

With a sigh of relief, I put it back into the tampon box.  Then, seeing the strain on Andrew’s face, I knew I couldn’t leave him alone.   He’d either worry himself to death, or – God forbid – break down and call Caleb.  Although, Vampire Victor might not be a better trade for a crazy, jilted lover, I hoped that the playwright wouldn’t steal a human’s shine without his permission.

“Do you want to be Paula or Simon?” I asked.

Andrew smiled, relieved.  “Paula.  Everyone loves her.”

“Okay, but if I’m going to be Simon, I’ll need to practice my snarky British accent.”

He grinned.  “How about you do that while I’m in the shower?  It will only take me fifteen minutes.”

When he headed into the bathroom, I took off my coat and poured another cup of coffee.  As I stood at the counter and drank it, I felt warm fingers massage the back of my neck.

Surprised, I turned around.  No one was there, but a pleasant pulse of energy caressed my cheek.  Soothing whispers filled my ears.  Tiny rainbows danced around the kitchen.

What the hell?

The crystal from the Bleak Street’s chandelier hung in the window above the sink, refracting the bright, morning sunlight.  That explained the little rainbows, but where were the warm fingers and soft voices coming from?  Drawn to the prism, I closed my fingers around it.  The crystal was much warmer than it should have been, and it vibrated slightly.

I tightened my grip.  Energy from the crystal flowed into me, drawing fiery trails along my nerves.  My thoughts whirled faster and faster, my neurons firing like pistons in a racecar.  Every line from
16 Voices
etched itself into my brain; I could have recited each part word for word.  The random musings I’d had about editing suddenly gelled, and I knew exactly how to make the play work. 

The soothing whispers grew louder and louder, until they became the roar of applause.  It was as if every person who had ever clapped their hands in the Bleak Street was now applauding me.  It was the same kind of energy I’d channeled from the prop closet the day before, only much more powerful.  The applause continued to intensify until everything came together in one, beautiful epiphany that resonated within me like a standing ovation to the hundredth power.

“Cassie?”

Andrew’s voice brought me back to the kitchen.  I gasped and let go of the prism which had grown cold in my fingers.

“You okay?”

I smiled so brightly that he blinked.  “I’m terrific!”

He tilted his head.  “Are you sure?  You look flushed.”

I grinned and wiped my sweating face.  “I’m a thousand percent sure.  Let’s go!”

I nearly skipped out the front door, but on the porch, Andrew stopped dead in his tracks and stared.  “Oh my God!”