Chapter 21
THREE MONTHS LATER
I reach the theatre about fifteen minutes before the show is due to start and rush through the back halls to his dressing room. He’s in there already. Full stage make-up.
‘I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,’ he jokes. Standing up, pulling me in. Kissing me like he hasn’t seen me in weeks – when really he saw me this morning before I left for work.
‘It’s your first night,’ I say. ‘What kind of girlfriend would I be if I missed it?’
‘A terrible one,’ he agrees. ‘But right now I need you to leave this room. Because I’m about five seconds away from tearing your clothes off.’
‘Noted,’ I say. ‘You like the red dress, then?’
‘Lara,’ he says, warning in his tone. ‘That’s not even a question.’
I kiss him again one more time. Then I pull back and he looks a little nervous.
‘You’re going to be great,’ I say, squeezing his hand. ‘And I’ll be right there the whole time.’
I leave him with his script and head up the stairs to my seat. In a box, off to the side. One Sienna is already waiting in.
‘You were great today,’ she says – we had a long day shooting, but she wrapped a little earlier than I did.
And I smile and tell her about a girl I met on the subway who asked me to sign a copy of A Murder in London.
Sienna reaches down and roots through her bag, pulling out her own copy – I got it for her birthday a few weeks ago.
‘Started it last week,’ she says. ‘It’s so good – I can’t believe I’ve never read it before.’ And we talk a little about it. Gratitude spilling through as we do. For the friendship we’ve been forming in the last few months.
The lights go down and a rush of pride surges through me as we turn our eyes to the stage.
Pride for Avi – because he found a way to choose himself over the huge pressures placed on him.
And for me too – because I’ve been keeping the promise I made to myself.
The list, that’s currently framed in my trailer.
The life, that encompasses Spencer, Hannah and Alison – all due to descend on the studio apartment I’m renting next week.
That has now expanded to include Avi, and Sienna too.
Within a matter of days of Avi and I arriving in New York, we ended up falling into bed with one another, all sensible plans of being friends falling apart as soon as the distance between us was closed.
If I’ve learned anything over the last few months, it’s that the dream will never be enough. You need everything else too.
And we watch as the curtain pulls up on the stage and he delivers his opening line.
Three weeks later, I walk up another set of stairs. To another audition studio. But this time, I don’t wait to be called into a room. I know where I’m going.
I open the door and find a table of people – some of the same faces I was so terrified of, what feels like a lifetime ago now.
Alessandro. The producers. My eyes scan across them, looking up at me expectantly.
Greeting me warmly. And then the one I’ve been waiting to see: Avi.
He smiles as I enter and shut the door behind me. I take my place next to him.
I pull the script for Amelia 2 – already marked up with my notes – out of my bag.
Notes that aren’t just for me this time, because everyone here wants to hear them too.
Avi finds my hand under the table, his fingers interlacing with mine.
And a thrill runs across my skin at his touch.
Like always. And this time there’s no fear, no worry.
Only joy – to be here, together. His presence a certainty, among other things.
Like my certainty of who I am. What I have to offer.
‘Right, bambini,’ Alessandro says. ‘Shall we begin?’