If Ever(77)

“This place is adorable,” she says as we take our seats at a corner table. Lacy curtains drape the windows and Christmas lights are strung between knickknacks on a crowded shelf. I order a tower of finger sandwiches, mini scones, and dainty desserts.

“I don’t know what I like more?” She munches on a cucumber sandwich as holiday tunes play in the background.

“The tea?” I tease as she’s only taken a couple of sips and wrinkled her nose each time.

“Sorry, I’m American through and through. Being here must make you excited about going home.”

“It does, but I hate the idea of leaving you behind.”

She shrugs. “You need time with your family. Plus I’ll be busy back home.” She picks up a lemon petit four, promptly ending that discussion. “How was your meeting?”

“Oh, fine.”

She frowns and starts shredding her napkin into tiny pieces.

“What’s the matter?”

She looks serious and almost nervous. “I know you weren’t at a meeting. Ryan told me you call auditions meetings.”

“That’s true.” I help myself to another biscuit.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“It’s no big deal. It’s just what I do,” I assure her.

“Why would you be auditioning when you’ve got a job?”

I push my plate back. “Well, sometimes I audition for guest spots on television to get my name out there.”

“But that’s not what you’ve been doing is it?”

“I’ve been going for new Broadway musicals that are in development and some movies. Next month, I’ll start auditioning for television pilots.”

“But you’re the lead in an amazing show.”

She loves Crossing Lines almost as much as I do. I reach for my tea and drink. It’s gone cold. “I’m leaving the show the end of January.”

She startles, not expecting that, her mouth opens in shock. “Is the show closing?”

Shaking my head, regretfully I say, “No. It’s time.”

“But you’re so great in it. I don’t understand.”

“My contract will be up, so I had to decide if I wanted to stay or not. It’s best for my career to move on. Lead actors rarely stay with a show more than a year. It gets hard to keep your performance fresh. And for me, this show is incredibly taxing. I have a hairline fracture on my arm, I live in a state of pain from all the stunts, and the vocals are taking a toll on my voice. I need a role that’s a little kinder.”

“What will you do?” She’s genuinely concerned.

I smile gently. “That’s what I’m working on.”

Chelsea sits back considering all that I’ve said. “So what was the audition for today?”

The waitress tops off our water, giving me time to consider my words. “Chelsea, the reason I don’t tell people about auditions is because I don’t like to talk about it.” I see the disappointment on her face. “Call it a superstition or whatever. There’s enough pressure on auditions, having more people aware of them, asking about it, speculating. It’s too much for me. I like to keep it all quiet.”

“I wouldn’t tell anyone,” she says softly.

I reach across the table and take her hand. “I know you wouldn’t, but it’s my system. I don’t even tell my parents until I have an offer.”

The waitress appears again. “All finished?”

Chelsea leans back, releasing my hand. “Yes, thank you.” Her eyes meet mine. “So, you’re really not going to tell me?”

I place my credit card with the check. “I’m not.”

“Oh.” She swallows.

The waitress leaves the check and whisks away our dishes.

“I’ve got to use the ladies room.”

When Chelsea returns, I’ve got the receipt. She’s unusually quiet as we ride the subway. I try to make small talk, but she’s giving me short, quiet answers.

“Chelsea, I can tell you’re upset.”

“It’s fine.” She lies with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

I follow her up the subway stairs to the street. “It’s nothing personal,” I say, deciding it’s about auditions. “This is work, and it’s the best way I can handle it and still keep my sanity.”

“You don’t want to talk about your auditions. I get it. And I’d rather not talk about this any more.” Her hands are deep in her coat pockets, and she looks so sad.

Between the secrecy of my auditions and me going home for the holidays, I don’t blame her for being disappointed. The timing of my trip home is terrible, but then an idea strikes me. “You should come home with me!”

Her head pops up. “What?”

“Yes! You’d love London, and you could meet my family.” Her eyes light with excitement. That’s my girl. “They’ll love you.”

Why didn’t I think of this before? I can keep her with me and give her an introduction to my crazy family.

“Could I even get an airline ticket this close to the holidays?” she asks eagerly.

“There’s always a seat somewhere. We’ll look as soon as we get home.”