Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Vivian
“How are you feeling about it now?” I ask Mia, fussing over the mermaid costume that has already taken over the majority of my day. I’m pretty fit, with only my large boobs getting in the way, but Mia’s role in the show means she’s in crazy good condition, and the outfit is just enough looser on her that she can remove it without getting stuck like I did.
“I think you fixed it,” she says, wriggling a little. “But am I wrong, or are there still pins in the material?”
“There are,” I admit. “I didn’t want to topstitch anything until you felt safer with the harness.”
Mia adjusts the outfit, wrinkling her nose as she wriggles. The outfit is perfect on her. The silver and aqua material is a bright contrast against her darker skin, and when she moves, the shimmering sleeves make it look like she’s gliding underwater with distant sunlight filtering over her from above.
“I think you’ve got it,” she says at last. “It felt better this time. Thank you.”
I release the breath I’d been holding. “I’m glad. However, if there are any other issues, I hope you’ll tell me right away. I want you to feel safe.”
Mia shuffles in a half circle to face the stage. “At this point, I’m more worried about Jaime.”
This, I understand. Mia gets to be in a harness, but Jaime’s maneuvers don’t have a safety net. The current act is called a banquine. In this version of the stunt, a pair of spotters—including Jaime—lift and toss a third acrobat in the air, while the flyer performs a series of tricks. There are four trios, all of whom are performing the same tricks in sync. At least, theoretically. When it’s done right, they move with the elegant precision of clockwork in a routine that manages to look effortless.
Unfortunately, there’s a lot that can go wrong. Poor timing might throw off the effect of the show, but it can also result in someone getting kicked, dropped, strained, or sprained. While most eyes will be on the flyer, I know that Mia, like me, is watching the intense concentration on our friends’ faces as they run through the routine. Without enough practice, someone could get seriously injured. Too much practice, though, can leave everyone overexerted, with fatigued muscles and delayed reaction times.
“I’m afraid he’s going to overdo it,” Mia whispers.
“Jaime knows his limits,” I reply, even though I’m worried too.
Jaime and the other spotters are dressed mostly in skintight blue, with white headdresses to make them look like waves. The flyers are dressed like various sea creatures: a dolphin, an orca, a seal, and a whale. Because their outfits can’t interfere with their movements, the costume designs are fairly abstract, but I’m pleased with the overall effect.
If only the production was as satisfactory.
Just as Jaime and his fellow spotter are about to toss their flyer into the air, his mouth pinches and his nose wrinkles. The trio hit their cue, but I can tell something’s off when the flyer doesn’t reach the height of the other performers. Worse, when Jaime tries to catch her, his hands slip, and she’s thrown off-balance. I suck in a breath, and Mia gasps, pressing her hands to her mouth in horror.
Fortunately, Jaime’s able to catch her before she falls. The production director calls for everyone to stop, and a variety of ocean-themed performers go scrambling to make sure everyone’s okay.
“Can you check on him?” Mia takes a few shuffling steps in her mermaid tail to demonstrate how long it will take her to get to our friend’s side. I’m familiar with the issue.
I leave her there and rush to Jaime. Up close, I can tell that his arms are trembling, and he’s sweating through his costume.
“I’m fine,” the flyer tells everyone, looking sheepish. “It was my fault, I didn’t have my weight centered…”
The producer looks like she’s about to erupt, so I’m grateful when one of the choreographers clears his throat and says, “It’s time for our lunch break. One of the hotel staff just told me that everything’s set up. Let’s eat, cool off, and be back in half an hour to take it from the top.”
Jaime and the other two members of his banquine trio exchange a few words before he strides over to me. “Hey,” he says, voice clipped. “We eating together? Where’s Mia?”
Our mermaid comes shuffling over. “I’m starving. Do you guys want to get in line, or— oof! ” She lets out a cry of surprise as Jaime scoops her up and carries her toward the lunch line. At least they’re both smiling now.
Say what you will about Dante Giovanetti—and trust me, there’s a lot to say—but he isn’t stingy. The performers have to be careful with what they eat, especially since they’re going to keep doing strenuous exercise all afternoon. The Mona Lisa has provided an elaborate lunch buffet with a variety of light, protein-packed dishes. I’ve worked on productions that settle for offering cold cuts and a fruit plate, but the food on offer looks like it came from the same kitchen as the upscale restaurants inside the Mona Lisa: platters of sushi and sashimi, grilled kabobs served alongside miniature crudites, carpaccio, and a huge assortment of finger foods that leave my mouth watering.
“Is it wrong to eat sushi when I’m dressed as a fish?” Mia asks, craning her neck to get a better view of the spread.
“Cannibal,” Jaime teases. He’s already calming down from the earlier mishap. He sets her down since the line is moving pretty slowly anyway, and her costume isn’t much of an impediment.
The three of us fill our plates from the buffet and find a table where we can chat in private. As soon as Jaime’s settled, I ask about the issue in their performance.
“Carol’s right,” he grunts, hunching his shoulders, “her weight distribution was off, but I don’t think it’s her fault. We’ve been having issues with the timing, and now I’m fixated, and it’s not helping. I’m overthinking everything. Her balance was off because Eli and I weren’t moving in unison.”
“At least you caught her.” Mia pats Jaime’s arm to comfort him. It’s a cute show of friendship, made slightly more surreal by the fact that she looks like a sea nymph and a puffy tulle bonnet mostly obscures his hair. “Nobody got hurt.”
Jaime stabs his carpaccio with his fork. “Yeah, but the show starts in a few days. We should be past this by now.”
“Is there anything—?” Mia begins.
Jaime drops his fork and raises both hands. “Can we just… talk about something else right now? I appreciate the concern, but I need to get my head right before we try again, and this isn’t helping.”
“Right.” Mia looks toward me, and a wicked smile overtakes her fine-boned features. “We can talk about Vivian’s dry spell.”
I moan and cover my face with both hands. Jaime, however, looks delighted.
“Yes!” he exclaims. “That’s perfect. Vivian, sweetheart, did you sign up for that dating app I mentioned?”
“No,” I mumble between my fingers. I should have seen this coming. Jaime and Mia are a few years younger than I am, and I’m pretty sure neither of them has any problem getting laid. In fact, I’d bet money that they’ve slept together on a few occasions, though I’ve never asked outright. My stagnant love life is a constant source of amusement for them.
I always make a big show of complaining, but I don’t honestly mind when it comes up. Romance has never felt like such a big deal to me. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve never met anyone who made me feel all the things people tell me to expect. Fluttering heart? No. Infatuation? Gross. Horny? Hell, yes, but in a general sort of way. I like dick, and I like having guy friends, but those two things don’t seem compatible. How am I supposed to love someone I don’t like spending time with? And how am I supposed to enjoy the company of someone whose best, if not only, redeeming quality is his junk, but only if he knows how to use it?
“Have you picked anyone up, then?” Mia asks.
“I’m getting too old for that,” I complain. “It’s easier to navigate a magic wand than a relationship with some rando. I hate dating.”
“Then you’re not doing it right,” Jaime says. “Dating should be fun .”
“Maybe when it’s all about fucking,” I grumble. “But looking for a long-term partner feels like going on a job interview when I’m not even sure I’m hiring.”
Mia’s brow wrinkles. She pushes a lock of turquoise hair out of her eyes. “I thought you wanted kids, though.”
“There are other ways to have kids,” Jaime informs her. He raises his eyebrows and nods sideways at me, probably trying to be subtle, but it’s hard to be covert when you’re dressed in an aquamarine morphsuit.
“I could adopt or something,” I agree, retuning to my meal. “But I do want a partner. Eventually. I just want to skip all the bullshit and get to the good parts, you know? Instead, I’m wasting my time learning just how much Joe Blow lied on his Tinder profile all while wondering why he’s holding a giant dead fish.”
“Aww.” Jaime looks at me like a puppy who just learned to fetch a ball for the first time. “What’s wrong, snookums? Have you tired of breaking hearts all over the Strip?”
Mia chews her sushi with a thoughtful expression. “What about the grocery store guy?”
I shrug. “He was fun. And then I was done. Couldn’t even get enough energy up to go back for seconds.”
Jaime’s eyes widen. “Just like that?”
“He was visiting from out of town and we met trying to choose the ripest melon,” I clarify. “I’m not doing long-distance with some Silicon Valley tech bro who tried to suffocate me with his tongue.”
“Tech bros,” Jaime and Mia say in unison, complete with matching grimaces.
“How about the guy from The Puck Drop?” Jaime asks.
“Which one?”
He snorts. “The tall one.”
Ah, yes. I shake my head. “He wasn’t as fun… or as good in bed. I have no time for selfish lovers. I swear, he couldn’t find my clit’s area code. And he fucked like he was trying to jackhammer an old sidewalk.”
Jaime titters. “Good call.”
Mia leans to one side, resting her elbow on the table. “I can’t believe there are no new men on the horizon.”
I’m about to agree when my eyes land on the small clasps holding Mia’s tale in place. Beneath the boob tape I’m still wearing, my nipples harden at the memory of cool hands against my skin. “Well…” I begin.
Jaime and Mia both lean across the table toward me.
I should have kept my mouth shut, but it’s too late now. “I mean, there’s Elevator Guy.”
“I have not heard of him,” Jaime says.
Mia rubs her hands together and gives me an impish grin. “Do tell. Did something occur in said elevator?”
“Just happened. Today. While I was stuck in the damn mermaid costume.” I pause for dramatic effect. “He helped me out of it.”
Mia looks down at her costume with a mixture of scandal and delight. “You went cruising in the tail? ”
“No, oh, my God, I was not cruising at eight a.m.” I explain the circumstances of my meeting with the mystery man at the arena this morning. “...and then I left him in the elevator after refusing to give my name,” I conclude.
“Oh.” Jaime gives me a cheerful smile. “So, you’re an idiot.”
“I told him I was single,” I add in my defense.
“That doesn’t help if he doesn’t know who you are,” Jaime shoots back. “How can a man shoot his shot without a ball?”
“What was wrong with him?” Mia asks.
I think back to our little exchange. He was... different. Intense, in a way that felt both magnetic and a little dangerous, like something was simmering beneath the surface, waiting to break free. His piercing blue eyes held mine just a second too long, full of a heat that sent shivers down my spine. Perfectly tousled dark hair, a jawline that could cut glass, and a brooding kind of confidence that made him feel untouchable—yet I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to reach out. He had a ruggedness about him like he’d been through hell and came out stronger on the other side, and something in his gaze hinted at stories untold, regrets left unspoken.
He was awkward at times, sure, but not in a creepy way—more like someone who’s used to carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and doesn’t quite know how to let it go. And yet, the chemistry was there, crackling between us in the quietest of moments. Not that I would’ve acted on it at the time, not that we even had a chance to, but... “Nothing. Not one single thing. Maybe I should have given him my contacts.”
“You could probably track him down,” Mia points out. “Renee would know who he is.”
I nod as I mull it over. Viktor would help if I asked him. He’d be a shit, but he’d do it because deep down, we love each other more than anything.
“So, what’s stopping you?” Jaime presses.
“I don’t know anything about him,” I argue. “For all I know, he was just in town to scout one of the players. And poof, now he’s gone. Besides, isn’t it better to have a fun little story about how some stranger and I crossed paths for ten silly minutes than to ask him out on a date and find out that he’s just some guy my dad’s age who’s a little bit of a perv?”
Mia winces. “Oh, so he’s older.”
“That doesn’t have to be a dealbreaker,” Jaime counters. “How much older?”
“Like… forty-five maybe?” It was hard to gauge, since he was in good shape, but the age gap is enough to give me pause.
“Ah.” Jaime looks crestfallen as if it was his romantic prospect that I just shot down rather than my own. “Fair. Almost half your age is a bit of a gap.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “You could still climb him like a tree, though.”
I snort.
Mia nods her agreement. “If you never see him again, it’s a missed connection… but promise me that if you see him again, you’ll at least ask his name? Thirteen years really isn’t that big of a deal for mature couples.”
“And slip him your number,” Jaime adds.
“So that he can slip you his D,” Mia concludes.
I shake my head in amusement. “I promise, if I see him again, I’ll give him a chance. One chance.” After all, it’s not like I have any better offers right now. And judging by our brief exchange, if nothing else, the sex would be great. I’d settle for a one-night stand, even if there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that it would lead anywhere.
Assuming he’s even interested in me when I’m not dressed like a sexy fish.