Broken Juliet(80)

“Well, the other one is off-Broadway.”

“Are you kidding? Jesus, Cassie, that’s great!”

“Yeah, I know…”

“I’m sensing a ‘but.’”

I take a breath. “It’s for Portrait.”

He blinks. “As in, Portrait with…”

“Connor. Yeah. They want both of us.”

He’s really trying to keep his expression happy. “For how long?”

“Eleven weeks to start. Then, if it does well … who knows? A few months. A year if we’re really lucky.”

He nods. “Wow. A year. That’s … wow. Amazing opportunity.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

A knot forms in my stomach. It feeds off the furrow in his brow and the dark energy that swirls around him.

He almost manages to shake it off when he takes my hand in both of his. “Seriously, Cassie, it’s unbelievable. I’m really happy for you.”

“Really?”

He smiles. “Really.”

He’s very convincing. Then again, he’s an excellent actor.



Present Day

New York City, New York

The Apartment of Cassandra Taylor “I can’t look.”

“Me neither.”

“Where the hell is Cody when you need him?”

“I’m hoping he’s asleep. It’s six a.m.”

Ethan and I are sitting cross-legged in the middle of my living room with a stack of newspapers and printouts from various blogs sitting between us.

Reviews.

The verdict on our show.

“Okay, you read the Times,” I say. “I really can’t handle that.”

“Fine. Then you have to read the Post,” says Ethan. “That guy shook my hand for way too long last night. And he stroked it a little.”

“Fine.”

We both pick up a paper and flick to the arts section. I read the Post review. As I do, my face becomes hotter and hotter. When I reach the end, I glance over at Ethan. He’s frowning at the Times and shaking his head.

He puts the paper down and exhales. “Well … that was … unexpected.”

“He liked it?”

“No. He loved it. Loved everything about it, except for the script, but said all the other elements worked so well, it didn’t matter.”

“But he liked us?”

He nods. “Absolutely. And I quote: ‘The two lead actors have the kind of mesmerizing chemistry that will have audiences returning to this show over and over again. Most of the people I spoke to on opening night have already planned their return visit. It’s that kind of magic that will ensure this show has a long and prosperous future. A must-see night of theater.’”

“Wow.”

“Exactly.”

The rest of the reviews are all pretty similar. They all love the show, particularly the chemistry between Ethan and me. By the time we’re finished reading, I’m so embarrassed by all the praise, I feel like I need to splash cold water on my face.

I also feel strangely emotional.

“Hey.” Ethan touches my face. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just … happy, you know?”

“You look like you’re going to cry.”

“Shut up. Talking about it will make it happen.” I blink and will the tears to go away.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize! That’s worse than talking about it. Dammit.” I blink faster, but it’s too late. The tears fall in fat streams down my cheeks. Ethan cups my face and wipes them away. It only makes it worse.

He pulls me into his arms, and I cry. It’s been a long time since I cried happy tears. He presses his lips against my forehead and strokes my hair.

It feels so good … so absolutely and emphatically right, it makes me cry harder.



Three Years Earlier

Westchester, New York

The Grove

He hasn’t touched me for nearly a week. Well, he’s touched me, but not the right way. Not how I need him to.

He’s shutting down and pulling back, and it makes me sick to think I’m just as powerless to stop it now as I was last time.

Still, I have one thing to try. One desperate play in what I’m suspecting is an unwinnable game.

“I’m going to tell Erika I’m passing on Portrait.”

He looks up from his book and frowns at me. “What?”

“I’m passing. I’ll take L.A. instead.”

“Cassie—”

“I mean, it’s still an amazing gig. Plus, it’s not like Broadway’s going anywhere. I’ll get there some other way.”

He lowers his book and sighs. “Don’t be stupid. You can’t turn it down. Especially if you think you’re doing it for me.”

“I think I’m doing it for us. I know how crazy it must make you to think about me doing that show with Connor eight times a week.”

“So what? Making me part of this decision is ridiculous. It’s your career. You need to do it.”

“Not if it means losing you.”

He rubs his eyes. “If you don’t take it, you’ll lose me anyway, because I’ll never forgive myself for f*cking up something so important. Please, Cassie. Take it.”