Chapter 40
CHAPTER 40
Two months passed by in a blur. Two months of incredible performances. Great reviews. Standing ovations.
Two months of Holden.
Two months of no drama with Holden.
The streak ends tonight.
We finished our bows and as usual, undressed and met at the stage door to walk out to the small crowd of patrons who wanted us to sign their Playbills. At first, I was pretty sure they only asked me because I was there and it was convenient to get mine along with Holden’s. But after several write ups about our show and buzz about Tony’s… not only for Holden and Amy… but for me, too. Well, ticket holders more sincerely seemed to want my autograph, too.
From behind the shut stage door, Holden links his hand into mine and brings my knuckles to his lips for a brief, chaste kiss. “Pizza tonight?” he asks.
I nibble my bottom lip in thought. We’re both always too nervous to eat before any show, so we’ve resorted to 11:30 p.m. dinners, usually sitting on the floor of his apartment or around the kitchen counter of mine with Jill.
“Curry?”
His face screws into a frown. “Then we’re eating at your apartment. It took four days to get the smell out of my couch last week.”
“Deal,” I grin.
“Ready, you two?” Tom, the man who runs our door security asks us.
We give him the nod and he quickly opens the door.
The silence of backstage gives away to the loud hustle and bustle of New York City, even late at night. Maybe especially late at night.
Cool, crisp Mid-April air carries scents of exhaust from the passing cars, mixed with the sweet aroma of street food vendors and the fragrance of blooming flowers from the corner store. It's a distinct mix that feels uniquely New York. And in the midst of it all, the two of us stand, a tiny island in the vast ocean of the city, our hearts beating in rhythm with the chaotic beat of New York in the moonlit spring.
More fans than usual stand around in a horseshoe behind the ropes blocking the stage door, their Playbills high in the air. One by one, Holden and I make our way around until I come to a halt in front of a familiar face. “Nate?”
I blink in shock at seeing my old friend. We haven’t spoken in at least four years. Not since he left school to act in Venus in Fur and never returned. Yes, he had sent me flowers on opening night, but I hadn’t heard a peep from him after that.
Even though McCay held his spot in the program as promised, he had such a good career launch after the reviews for that show came in, he didn’t need the degree to earn his living.
“Hey, Kate,” he said. “You were fantastic.”
“Thank you!” I lean across the ropes and hug him tightly. “I can’t believe you came.”
“Do you remember Christopher Slaine? He was the producer?—”
“For Venus in Fur,” I say, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. “Of course I remember.” How could I forget the man who discovered Missy Howl? The man who almost could have made me the star that he made her? “It’s nice to see you again after all these years.”
“Your performance was stunning tonight,” Christopher says. “I always knew you would become something special.”
I bite my lip, stopping myself from saying something I’d regret. For years after graduating, I tried to audition for Christopher. I called his office and left countless messages trying to get meetings and was always met with generic ‘I’m afraid he’s all booked’ responses. “Thank you,” I opt to say, instead.
“Nate!” Holden comes up beside me and I feel my spine go rigid. Holden and Nate in the same room as college kids was bad enough. Now as grown men? This could be deadly.
I glide my hand around Holden’s waist in a way that I hope is comforting to him. To my surprise, I’m not met with clenched muscles. Instead, Holden turns to me and gives me a relaxed smile, pausing to kiss my temple before leaning over and giving Nate a hug. “I heard you booked The Last Five Years revival. That’s incredible, congrats.”
Nate and Christopher share another look. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly, “Christopher Slaine, this is Holden James,” I introduce them using Holden’s stage name.
“Of course,” Holden says, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” Christopher says. “You’ve come a long way since I first saw you in Romeo and Juliet at the Kennedy Center. In fact…” Christopher pauses. “A new musical crossed my desk a couple months ago. Nate was originally supposed to be the lead in it, but as I’m sure you both understand, a revival of The Last Five Years is hard to pass up. When Nate stepped back from the part, he reminded me of the both of you and when I expressed my hesitancy, he treated me to tickets tonight and I have to admit… he’s absolutely correct. I think the two of you would be sensational as Remy and Julie.”
A cough sputters from my lips. “Remy and Julie? As in Keith’s show? I originally turned him down to do this?—”
“He told me,” Christopher adds. “But now that you’ve opened this show, your contracts must be almost up, right?”
He’s absolutely right. Initially, mine had only been for three months. Which means I had about four weeks left until I either needed to find a new show or resign.
I shake my head. “I thought Missy was up for that part?—”
Christopher snorts. “After working with her in Venus in Fur, I vowed to never again produce a show she’s part of. Besides,” Christopher continues with his producer sales pitch. “I have no doubt this show will live on and you may even have the opportunity to come back to it.”
I turn to find Holden staring at me, brows lifted. “What do you say? I think we could give Remy and Julie a run for their money now that we’re older and wiser.” Holden squeezes my hand.
With a gentle touch, Holden cups my jaw and brings his lips to mine. The warmth of his kiss sends tingles down my spine and I can't help but smile against his mouth. "There's no one else I'd rather play this part with," I whisper between kisses.
This is where we belong—on stage and off—always in each other's arms, bringing characters to life together.
“Send us your best offer,” he tells Christopher as he pulls back from the kiss. “We’ll schedule a lunch meeting next Monday.” Holden looks at me, his brown eyes shining in the soft glow of the moonlight. “But for tonight, Katherine,” he whispers, sinking to one knee. “I have something to ask you…”
I roll my eyes. For the last two months, Holden has been teasing me with fake proposals. Every walk we take, he finds a reason to drop to one knee. Every dinner we go to, he makes a show of giving me some sort of long, loving speech… only to invite me to ice cream. Or breakfast. Or to eat croissants outside of Tiffany’s at sunrise. Or on a weekend trip to Vermont.
It’s become his own little prank that only he finds funny at this point.
Beside me, fans gasp and start bouncing at the display. I roll my eyes and wave them off. “Don’t get excited,” I tell the crowd. “He does this fake out thing all the time.”
Still smirking, Holden reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvet box.
Time slows.
My chest hitches with a sharp breath.
My blood heats in my veins.
Of all the times he’s pranked me, there’s never been a velvet box.
Not once.
I swallow the dry lump blocking the back of my throat.
“These last few months have been the best of my life,” he starts. “We’ve managed to somehow both grow up together and separately and even though I know I’ve screwed up more times than either of us can count, I’m grateful for every one of those moments. Because it brought us here. Together again. Katherine Pearl Harris…”
I close my eyes against the brimming tears. It’s only been a few months… maybe this is too soon? Too fast. I love Holden with all my heart, but I’m not actually sure I’m ready for marriage yet.
“Will you…”
But I can’t say no to him. I can never say no to Holden. I love him.
I swallow the sob threatening to wrench from my throat as he slowly opens the velvet box.
“… move in with me?”
My sob comes out as a relieved laugh and I cover my mouth. Inside the velvet box is a key, presumably to his apartment.
“Yes,” I laugh in relief as he pushes to his feet. “Yes, I will move in with you!”
The sounds of clapping and laughter fill the air as Holden scoops me into his arms, lifting me off the ground and swinging me around. “That other question is still coming. Don’t you worry,” Holden says, slowing down.
Even though he’s lowering my feet back to the ground, I still feel like I’m flying.
“How about pancakes tonight instead of curry?” I offer him.
He presses a soft, sweet kiss to the tip of my nose. “Only if they’re made with M&Ms.”
“Are there any other kind?”