Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
“Do you remember your mother, Achilles?”
—“What Do We Fight For?” The Wooden Horse, Act One
Dexter’s heart beat steadily beneath Jonah’s cheek. They lay together in bed, the sun kissing their skin as it gently woke
the residents of Castle Road. Dexter ran his fingers up and down Jonah’s waist, his arm wrapped around him as Jonah rested
his head on his chest. They didn’t know the time, but Jonah guessed it must have been late morning from the way the sunlight
seemed to be positioned in the sky. Yet it was Sunday, and he expected Dexter to flee at first light, like he usually did,
but he stayed, his body a comforting presence, one Jonah didn’t want to ever lose.
Jonah wished he could erase the week he had just endured. His mum’s call on Tuesday night had made him lose his footing, and
he could still feel himself free-falling. He’d missed the signs blaring out at him, the ones telling him his mum needed him,
that she wasn’t coping, that the book clubs and girls’ nights were excuses to have a few glasses of wine, then a few more
and a few more until . . . until she couldn’t take it anymore.
The guilt possessed him. The show Tuesday was the absolute worst he’d ever performed onstage, and that was taking into account
the nativity at school where he walked out dressed as a sheep then cried for five minutes before falling down the stairs in
the wings. Only, this time he was in front of hundreds of people who paid a lot of money to see the show and he fumbled his
lines, forgot his blocking, and accidentally hit Dexter in the face during their fight sequence, which resulted in a bloody
nose and a lot of swearing offstage.
The rest of the week fared no better; his inability to brush himself off and get back on track resulted in him being taken off the Saturday evening show, and he spent the duration of it sobbing in his dressing room until Dexter finished and took him home.
It was past midnight by the time Dexter ran a bath filled with decadent bubbles the scent of honey and lavender, and one part of Jonah just wanted to hide beneath his duvet, but the part of him completely smitten with Dexter appreciated his gesture and went along with it.
“Did you bring bubble bath with you?” Jonah asked as Dexter got into the tub with him.
“Yeah. I noticed you didn’t have any, and baths should not be taken without bubbles.”
Jonah relaxed against his chest as Dexter sat behind him, his legs on either side of Jonah as the hot water caressed their
limbs and the lavender opened Jonah’s chest, allowing him to breathe freely for the first time in days. Dexter kissed the
back of his neck, then the side of his cheek, the action not sexual, but caring, deeply caring, and Jonah could have stayed
there with him forever if the water didn’t eventually get cold and force them to get out. Dexter took him to bed, where he
held him, and they lay together in a beautiful, comfortable silence until they fell asleep.
Jonah dreamed of St. Ives and honeybees dancing through fields of flowers.
And now, as they lay together in the stark light of the morning, Jonah could finally sense the dark cloud obstructing his
mind lifting. He pressed a chaste kiss to Dexter’s collarbone and closed his eyes, basking in the contentment he felt and
the way Dexter made him feel completely and utterly safe.
“Are you leaving soon?” Jonah asked, hoping the answer would be no, but also not expecting any more from him than he’d already
given.
“No.”
“But it’s Sunday.”
“And I want to be here with you.”
Jonah rested his chin on Dexter’s chest to look at him. “Because I’m a mess?”
“Well, yeah,” Dexter said with brutal honesty. “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine. I’m just worried about my mum.”
Dexter pouted slightly and ran a hand through Jonah’s hair as he leaned into Dexter’s touch. “I know. But you’re doing the
best thing right now, talking to her and your aunt every day.”
“I think I’m going to go to Cornwall next weekend, head up Sunday morning and come back Tuesday in time for the show in the
evening.”
“I’m sure she would appreciate that.”
“You can come with me if you want.”
Dexter’s top lip twitched slightly. “Really?”
“She’s been going on about me finding a boyfriend for ages. It might cheer her up if you came along.”
“Boyfriend?”
Jonah groaned and rested his head back on Dexter’s chest. “Don’t start with the cockiness. I don’t have the energy.”
“I just didn’t know that’s what we were calling each other now.”
“What else would we call each other? Non-casual sleeping partners? Man friends? Person I like but isn’t my boyfriend?”
“Okay, okay.” He laughed, his chest moving as he did. “You don’t need to be so salty. I like it. Jonah Penrose is my boyfriend.”
“Aren’t you lucky?”
“The luckiest.” His grip on Jonah’s waist tightened. “I will come to Cornwall with you.”
“Yeah?” Jonah tipped his head to look at him. “Really?”
“Really.” The smile Dexter gave him could melt icebergs. He held the sun, Jonah was sure of it; he could light up any room
with that smile of his. Jonah wanted to know how he did it, how he always looked so golden and beautiful.
“I love you,” Jonah whispered, and he didn’t regret saying it. He didn’t feel the need to hide behind sarcasm or maybes anymore;
he knew how Dexter made butterflies flutter in his chest, and he wanted him to know just what that meant to him.
“I love you too.” Dexter kept his sunshine smile. “But only this much.” He held up his hand and pinched his fingers together, showing only about a centimeter of space between them.
“You’re such a dick,” Jonah said as he batted his hand away.
“But you love me.”
“Yeah, I really do.”
The Forge welcomed its guests with golden chandeliers and white-tiled floors polished to within an inch of their lives. The
light from the crystals cascading from the fixtures above reflected on the flooring, creating a stunning kaleidoscope of colors
Jonah focused on while he tried to stop his palms from sweating. Melanie sat opposite him, her phone in hand as she scrolled
through her never-ending inbox. Jonah picked up the napkin neatly folded on the side plate in front of him and wiped his hands
on it.
Melanie glanced up from her phone and raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
“My hands are so bloody sweaty she’s going to think I’m a tap.”
Melanie gave a laugh, then sipped at the sparkling water she ordered. “Relax. She’s not scary, Jonah.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“Did you . . . did you tell Dexter about meeting Julianna today?” She fished the slice of lemon out of her drink with one
of her nails, then squeezed it into the water before dropping the rind onto her napkin.
“Nope. I stayed hush-hush.”
“That’s good, for now at least. We don’t want his agent getting wind of it.”
“Stephen?”
Melanie nodded. “He’s a savage son of a bitch. He doesn’t care who he throws under the bus. And I’ve heard he’s trying to
get that little boyfriend of his a bigger role than the one he has now.”
Jonah continued to wipe his palms on his napkin. “Boyfriend?”
“Henrik Larsson.”
Henrik Larsson made my life a misery.
Jonah assumed, when Dexter told him about Henrik basically ousting him from his role in West Side Story, it was because of a fling they had. But no, Stephen was involved, Stephen broke his heart, and if Jonah was going to put two and two together, which he definitely was going to do, he guessed the
breakup came from Stephen’s eyes wandering to Henrik.
“He’s not a leading man,” Jonah said.
Melanie snorted and gave a nod. “You said it, not me. Ah.” She nodded and waved to someone coming from behind Jonah, and when
Jonah turned his head he saw Julianna Orwell, in all her fabulous glory, walking toward them.
He’d seen photographs of her, of course, but nothing compared to just how stunning she seemed in real life. He couldn’t peg
her age, not from just looking at her, but if memory served correctly, she was in her early fifties. Her shoulder-length,
spiraled black hair shone beneath the chandeliers, and her cool brown skin showed absolutely no signs of aging. Jonah stood
as she approached, as did Melanie, and he took her hand into his when she extended it with a dazzling smile bright enough
to rival Dexter’s.
“Wow, sweaty palms,” she said with a thick Welsh accent and laughed, and oh God, why didn’t he wipe his hands on the napkin
some more? “Hey, Melanie.” She leaned forward and kissed the other woman’s cheeks before they all took their seats.
“Thank you both for meeting with me,” she said, placing her phone on the table and dumping her handbag on the floor. “Jonah,
I saw you in The Wooden Horse, and, wow.” She placed her hand over her heart. “You were phenomenal. You took my breath away.”
“Thank you,” he said, overwhelmed by her; how on earth was Julianna Orwell giving him a compliment? “That means so much, honestly.”
“It’s a tough role, emotionally charged, and so much choreography. I’m in awe of the entire cast and crew.”
“I think everyone was surprised at how well it’s done here,” Melanie said. “I’ve heard rumors about a Broadway transfer.”
Julianna nodded and took a sip of her water. “Yes, I think it would translate well on Broadway.” She narrowed her eyes at
Jonah and smiled. “If they asked, do you think you would run away to New York to play Achilles?”
“No,” he said with surprising confidence. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Broadway would be incredible. But not right now. My family’s here.”
“Of course. It would be a big move.” Julianna tapped her finger on the menu in front of her. “Which is good news for me, because
that means I don’t have to compete with New York directors wanting you.”
“Are we getting straight into business?” Melanie asked, picking up her own menu to study. “I’ve told Jonah you’re doing the
revival, but not much else.”
“Well, we’ve secured a theatre. It’s slightly bigger than the Persephone, but that’s all I will say for now. I want it to
be more immersive. I want some tables actually on the stage so the audience can be part of the show. But that’s not really
the interesting part, is it?” Julianna laughed. “You are both here to discuss casting with me.”
“When will you be auditioning?” Jonah asked.
“We will put out casting calls soon for the ensemble roles. But for the main parts, we are reaching out to people we’re interested
in to see if it’s something they would like to be involved with. For full transparency, I am meeting with a couple of other
actors for the role of the Emcee. We’ve already cast our Sally, but I’m keeping that a secret from anyone who isn’t signed
to the show.” She mimicked locking her mouth shut and throwing the imaginary key over her shoulder.
“I think I know who it might be,” Melanie said, eyes twinkling.
“And I think you will be wrong.” Julianna waved down a waitress. “Can we get some mixed starters to share, please? Then we
will order the mains soon.” The waitress nodded and scribbled on her notepad before scurrying away. Julianna opened her mouth
to talk again but stopped and waved her hand in the air, her vibrant smile somehow getting even brighter. “Oh, look!” she
said, raising her voice. “Stephen!”
Jonah turned his head in the direction she was waving, only to see Stephen Carrington at a table with Colbie and Dexter.
Dexter’s eyes caught his and the two of them stared, not really knowing the correct protocol for bumping into a partner when they were clearly at meetings they were keeping secret from each other.
Stephen stood from his chair, crisp suit tailored perfectly to his body, and made his way over to their table, where he leaned down to kiss Julianna on the cheek.
He’d slicked his dull gray hair away from his chiseled face, skin clear of stubble, eyes dark, reminiscent of a shark.
“Julianna, darling,” he said, his voice dripping with money. “How truly wonderful to see you!”
“And you,” Julianna said, placing a hand on his arm in a sign of familiarity. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your lunch.”
“It’s just business,” Stephen said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You know what it’s like, signing contracts.” He let
his eyes linger on Jonah, the slight curl on his upper lip giving away his apparent distaste for him, which was rather ironic,
seeing as Jonah thought he resembled a rat dressed as fake royalty.
Melanie cocked her head to the side as she gazed at Colbie and Dexter at the table across the room, then smiled as she turned
her attention to Stephen. “You should probably get back to them. Colbie Paris isn’t a woman who likes to be kept waiting.”
“You’re right,” Stephen said, his words friendly but tone laced with poison. “Important changes happening over at the Persephone.
Though, I’m sure you know about that already.” He offered Jonah a pitying look. “Anyway, Julianna, it was lovely to see you.
Give me a call and we can get dinner.”
“Absolutely,” Julianna agreed. Stephen excused himself and went back to his table, where Dexter looked at Jonah with wide
eyes.
“Anyway, what were we saying,” Julianna said, snapping her fingers together as she tried to recall her train of thought. “Ah,
yes, casting. Jonah.” She placed her hand over his on the table and he stopped caring about his sweaty hands and tore his
eyes from Dexter. “I would love to have you come in and read for the Emcee. It’s totally informal, not an audition, more of
a compatibility exercise so we can see if you can work with my directing style.”
She was practically handing him the Emcee on a plate and, if the paperwork sitting in the middle of the table across the room
was what he thought it might be, then he needed to eat up whatever Julianna served.
“I would be honored to. It’s literally my dream role.”
“This production is going to be very dark, raw, fueled by the threat of war and raging emotions. But I want it to be more sexual than ever before, for it to really skirt the line of the darkest time in our history with carnal desire. I want to show a Cabaret no one’s seen before, and I think, after seeing you perform, we could create something very special. ”
Jonah looked over his shoulder again only to see Colbie leaving the restaurant, Dexter following behind with Stephen’s hand
placed on the small of his back, his thumb moving in small circles.
“When are you hoping to open the show?” Jonah asked, giving Julianna his full attention again.
“Next June, so, not long at all.”
“That would coincide well with Jonah’s current contract,” Melanie said.
“That’s if you’re ready to pass Achilles onto someone else,” Julianna said, her tone playful, and Jonah simply smiled back
at her, knowing it didn’t matter if he was ready; Achilles had just been handed over to Dexter right in front of his eyes.