Chapter 10 #2
He leans forward, all warmth and easy swagger. “You know, I’ve got my first set soon at Vice nightclub. You should come. I’ll put you on the guest list.”
Jennie claps her hands. “Cool. I’m in if it’s VIP?”
“Of course,” he says, eyes on me. “And you, Ivy? Be nice to get the old crowd back together.”
“Yeah, sure,” I mutter, because saying no to Brody has never been my strong suit.
We’re just about ready to leave when my phone vibrates against the table with an unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Ivy Vale?” a bright voice says. “This is casting for 42nd Street Reimagined. The creative team was impressed today. We’d like to offer you the role of Lorraine.”
For a second, I honestly think I misheard her. “Wait—Lorraine? As in... a featured role, Lorraine?”
“That’s right,” she says, laughing. “You brought great energy to both the dance and vocal rounds. Rehearsals start Wednesday. We’ll send over the details this afternoon.”
My mouth drops open. It’s a featured role. Not lead, but way above ensemble. “Oh my God, thank you! That’s amazing.”
I hang up in stunned silence. Jennie blinks at me. “Well?”
“I got it,” I whisper. Then louder, “Jennie, I freaking got it!”
She screams and hugs me across the table, almost knocking over her latte.
Brody smiles softly, bumping my shoulder. “I knew you’d kill it. Look at us both with new jobs. We definitely need to have a night out to celebrate.”
“Yeah, evenings are free during rehearsals. Once the show starts, forget it,” I say, unable to wipe the stupid grin from my face, until I glance at the wall clock, realizing how late it is.
“Shoot, I should get going; I need to pick up Elsie.”
“Go, I’ll catch you later,” Brody says, flashing the crooked grin that used to make my knees weak. “Just don’t disappear to London without letting me know next time.”
I paste on a smile, biting back the retort that rises to my tongue. You’re one to talk.
“Yeah. I’ll try,” I say, shouldering my bag.
I rush outside to the nearest subway, my phone still warm in my hand from the call. I should be floating. It should feel like everything I’ve been working towards, and it does, for a second. But then, the memory of him resurfaces. Dane. His voice. His touch.
I shove the thought down, reminding myself it’s done. A mistake. A single, stupid, impossible moment.
By the time I get home, the school bus is already rounding the corner. Elsie’s bus pulls up, and the second she spots me, she comes flying down the steps. “Auntie Ivy!” she squeals, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“Hey, superstar.” I smooth her hair. “How’s my favorite person?”
“We did painting.”
“Oh, yeah, let me see.”
She digs into her backpack and proudly holds up a sheet of paper, corners already curled from excitement.
“Wow,” I say, crouching so she can scramble onto my back. “Is this you, me, and Mommy?”
“Mmmhmm.” Her tiny arms lock around my shoulders as we start toward the apartment, her sneakers bumping softly against my thighs.
“Is that me on the floor?” I squint at the drawing, biting back a grin.
“D’uh, you’re doing the splits—like we do in dance class.”
“Ah, of course. Silly me.”
She giggles against my ear. “Auntie Ivy, can we watch Encanto when we get home?”
“Again? You’ve seen it a zillion times.”
“Please,” she says, voice muffled as she rests her cheek on my shoulder.
“Okay,” I sigh in mock defeat. “But only if you take your medicine first. Deal?”
“Deal.”
We grab a few groceries on the way back. As soon as we’re home, Elsie dives on the couch and curls under a blanket, humming along as Encanto plays for—yep—the zillionth time. I chop vegetables to the rhythm of the music, smiling as I prep dinner.
When the credits roll, I tense at the sound of a key turning in the lock.
Sloane steps inside, hair windswept, exhaustion written all over her face. She drops her heels by the door and sets her laptop bag on the counter with a thud.
“Hey,” I say, turning from the stove. “How’s things?”
Before she can answer, Elsie darts into the kitchen and waves her drawing in front of her. Sloane scoops her up with a tired laugh.
“I’m not drunk, I’m doing the splits—before you ask,” I tease, nodding toward the picture as Sloane pins it to the corkboard.
She chuckles lightly. “I didn’t say a word.”
“How was work?” I ask, trying to sound casual, while my stomach knots.
“God, today was brutal. Dane’s been at that conference all day—thank God, honestly. One less person breathing down my neck. Apparently, he’s staying one more day.”
My pulse stutters. “He won’t be there tomorrow?”
She shakes her head. “Mm-mm. I don’t think so.”
“Right.” I take a breath. “That’s... good.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. How was your audition?”
My lips curl into an involuntary grin. “I got it.”
Her eyes widen. “You’re kidding.”
“Featured role. Lorraine.”
Sloane’s face lights up, all fatigue melting away. “Ivy, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you. We’ll have a night out to celebrate.”
Her excitement is pure and unfiltered, and guilt punches straight through me. I force a smile as she hugs me.
“Now I’ve got a role though,” I add. “Elsie will have to stay at the after-school club. I won’t be back in time for the school bus.”
“Don’t worry. I can pick her up on the way home from work. We’ll manage.”
“Yeah,” I say, leaning in for a hug. “We always do.”
Later, when she disappears down the hall to shower, I pull the blanket tighter around Elsie, who’s half-asleep against me. My chest tightens. Dane won’t be there tomorrow, so I have one more night, I tell myself.
Tomorrow, I’ll tell her everything.
I promise.