Chapter 56
MELODY
Ichecked my reflection in the full-length mirror one more time.
The lavender cocktail dress I’d chosen had a high-low hemline that showed off my legs while still feeling elegant enough for a Broadway show.
The color made my eyes pop, and I’d paired it with strappy silver heels, not my usual sneakers. Tonight called for something special.
Normally, I would wear sneakers because I’m just a normal New Yorker that would have to walk twenty-two miles to get to the show.
But I was with a Bancroft, which meant we would get the red-carpet experience.
I only had to make it out of the car and inside the venue.
And I liked the way the heels made my legs look awesome.
I slicked on my lipstick, adding the glossy finish, and hoped it was enough. I loved dressing up. I loved to look pretty, but I hated the expectations.
“You look incredible,” Austin said from the doorway, and I turned to find him leaning against the doorframe in a perfectly tailored black suit that made him look like he’d stepped out of a magazine.
Damn. He’s mine. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Bancroft.”
He crossed the room in three strides and pulled me close, his hands settling on my hips. “You sure you want to go out? We could stay in.”
I laughed, even as my body responded to his proximity. “Nice try. You promised me a show, and I’m holding you to it.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
I grabbed my matching clutch, and off we went. The waiting town car was sitting at the curb. That was something I was really getting used to. I loved being chaperoned. I loved his car, but I liked that we could sit back, relax and not worry about paying attention to the road.
Austin held my hand in the back seat, his thumb tracing circles on my palm while we talked about nothing and everything. When had this become so natural? When had being with him started to feel like coming home?
“What are you smiling about?” he asked.
“You. Us. This.” I squeezed his hand. “I’m just really happy.”
He flashed me one of those sexy smiles. “Me too, baby girl. Me too.”
The Winter Garden Theatre was everything I hoped it would be. It was grand and beautiful, with ornate details everywhere I looked. Austin had somehow managed to get us orchestra seats, center section, sixth row. The best seats in the house.
“How did you get these?” I asked.
“Bancroft connections,” he said with a wink. “Gotta be good for something.”
“Please tell me you didn’t bump anyone.”
“I didn’t bump anyone,” he insisted. “We’ve been over this.”
As we made our way to our seats, I felt eyes on us.
Whispers followed in our wake, phones appearing to snap quick photos.
A few months ago, this kind of attention would have made me self-conscious.
I would be second-guessing every move. But with Austin’s hand in mine, I found I didn’t care what anyone thought.
We weren’t putting on a show for them. We were just two people enjoying a night out. If they took pictures, whatever. It wasn’t going to change our night.
“They’re staring,” I murmured as we settled into our seats.
“Let them.” He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “I don’t care who’s watching.”
The lights dimmed before I could respond, and the show began.
I had wanted to see Hadestown for months.
It was the story of Orpheus and Eurydice retold with a jazz-infused score that had won every award imaginable.
I didn’t go to many Broadway shows. Only ones that I knew were going to be really good.
With the price of tickets, I wasn’t about to drop that kind of cash for a crappy show.
But from the first notes, I was completely absorbed.
Austin kept my hand in his throughout the first act, occasionally leaning over to whisper something that made me giggle. His breath tickled my ear, and I had to fight to keep my attention on the stage instead of on him.
During intermission, we stretched our legs in the lobby, sipping overpriced champagne.
“What do you think so far?” I asked.
“It’s good.” He paused, searching for words. “I get why you wanted to see this.”
“You’re not just saying that? I know this is not your scene.”
“Baby girl, if I was bored, you would know. I don’t have a poker face.” He grinned. “But seriously, this is great. We should do this more often.”
“Go to shows?”
“Everything. All of it. I want to do everything with you.”
A woman approached us tentatively, her friend hanging back a few steps.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” she said, her cheeks flushed. “But are you Melody Stephens?”
I smiled, recognizing the familiar flutter of nerves in her voice. “I am. Hi.”
“Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s really you.
” She was practically vibrating with excitement.
“I just had to come say thank you. Your content changed my life. I used to hide my body in oversized clothes, thinking I needed to cover up. But watching you embrace your curves, dress in things that made you feel powerful? It gave me permission to do the same. And you look stunning tonight.”
“That means everything to me. Thank you for telling me that.”
Her friend stepped forward. “Same here. I’m a corporate lawyer, and I used to think I had to dress like a man in boring suits to be taken seriously. You showed me I could be feminine and curvy and still command a room. I’ve never felt more confident.”
I took in their outfits. “You both look incredible,” I said genuinely. “Seriously, those outfits are fire.”
Austin had stepped back slightly to give us space, but I reached for his hand, pulling him forward. “This is Austin.”
“We know who he is,” the first woman said with a laugh. “You’re a lucky man.”
“Don’t I know it,” he said, wrapping his arm around my waist. His charm was effortless and genuine as he asked them about themselves, where they were from, what they did.
He made them feel seen and heard, and I fell for him a little more watching him interact with them.
He was so down to earth. Humble. Easy to talk to.
“Could we maybe get a picture?” the lawyer asked. “If that’s okay?”
“Of course!”
We posed together, Austin offering to take the photo so we could all be in it. When he handed the phone back, both women were beaming.
“Thank you so much,” they said, practically in unison.
After they walked away, still giddy, Austin pulled me close and kissed my temple. “Your fans are a lot nicer than mine.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mine usually try to grab my ass like I’m a Chippendale dancer.”
I burst out laughing, earning looks from the people around us. “They do not.”
“They absolutely do.”
“Poor baby,” I teased, patting his chest. “It must be so hard being objectified.”
“It’s a burden I bear.” He was grinning now. “But seriously, that was nice. You’re really good with people.”
“Come on, let’s get back to our seats.”
When the final notes faded and the lights came up, the audience erupted in a standing ovation. I jumped to my feet, clapping until my hands hurt. Austin stood beside me, his arm around my waist.
“That was amazing,” I said, my voice still thick with emotion.
“Come on, let’s get out of here before the crowds.”
We made our way out of the theater and into the waiting car. I was still buzzing with the emotion of the show, humming one of the songs under my breath.
“Hungry?” Austin asked.
“Starving.”
Twenty minutes later, we pulled up in front of Edge. A hostess greeted us at the door, her eyes widening slightly when she saw Austin.
“Mr. Bancroft, welcome. The family table is open. Follow me.”
She led us through the main dining room, packed despite it being late. It was a private corner table with a perfect view of the restaurant. It was intimate without being isolated.
“This is perfect,” I said, settling into my seat.
A server appeared immediately with water and menus, explaining the specials with a flourish. Everything sounded incredible, and I found myself unable to decide.
“Get whatever you want,” Austin said, reading my indecision. “We can share if you can’t choose.”
“That’s dangerous. I might order everything.”
“Do it. I dare you.”
We ended up ordering way too much food—appetizers, entrees, sides to share. The server didn’t even blink, probably used to excessive Bancroft orders.
The food started arriving, and it was every bit as good as Austin had promised. We shared bites across the table, stealing from each other’s plates.
As I savored a particularly delicious risotto, I let myself daydream a little. What would it be like to do this regularly? Not just the fancy dinners, but the normalcy of going out together, being a couple and building a life.
I imagined a little boy sitting between us in a booster seat.
He would have dark hair like Austin’s, those same mischievous eyes and chubby hands reaching for everything on the table.
We probably wouldn’t come somewhere this fancy with a toddler.
It’d be more like family-friendly restaurants with coloring book menus and chicken fingers. But I could picture it so easily.
A little family. Our family.
The image was so vivid that it took my breath away. This was what I wanted. A partner. A child. A home full of love and laughter and chaos. And I wanted it with Austin.
“Hey,” his voice cut through my thoughts. “Where did you go just now?”
I blinked, focusing back on him. He was watching me with those intense eyes, a small smile on his face.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, reaching for his wine glass.
I picked up my glass too and took a slow sip as I decided how much to share. I could tell him about the daydream. But that felt like too much, too fast, even though we already had the conversation about wanting kids eventually.
So instead, I smiled at him. “Everything,” I said simply.
“Everything is on your mind?”
“Everything.”
“That’s a lot to think about.”
“It is.” I squeezed his hand. “But it’s all good thoughts. Really good thoughts.”
We had eaten about as much as we could when our waiter returned once again.
“Can I interest you in something sweet?” he asked.
Austin’s eyes never left mine. “Absolutely.”
We ordered dessert. What was delivered was a chocolate situation that was probably going to be obscenely good.
I took one bite and groaned. It was every bit as good as expected, rich and decadent and meant to be shared.
We took turns feeding each other bites. It should have felt cheesy, but instead it felt intimate. Sweet. Right.