My eyebrows scrunch. “What do you mean?”
“If you are to play a performance opposite Samantha once or twice a month as understudy, I wouldn’t want you to accidentally drop her.”
My chest explodes with violence as I stand up and bark, “I would never hurt her! How could you even say something like that to me? How could you say that to anyone?” The gravity sinks in. “Asher dropped Marion on purpose?”
Ms. Galloway picks up her glasses and taps them on the table. “I don’t think you know what you’re getting into, Logan. When they say this business is cutthroat, they are just shy of meaning it literally. And I wouldn’t be surprised if in the good old days when theater actors were the poorest people around, traveling from city to city, that there weren’t a few actual throats cut in order to rise in ranks. I can’t prove that Asher did anything wrong. I looked away just before Marion fell. And I’ll never forget that, nor forgive myself for it. But I know that he didn’t like her very much. And I’ve seen worse.” Holding my stare she says, “I had a bunion removed on my foot where they found tiny bits of glass.”
“Glass? I don’t understand.”
“I’ve been locked in the bathroom so I missed my cue and lost the part. They put glass in my pointe shoes because I was the lead. I had callous upon callous upon callous and couldn’t feel it, but the glass dug under my skin until it became bunions and I needed surgery. They found it in the X-ray.” She sighs and repeats, “I have seen worse.”
“You’re suspecting that, but you’re still sending him with the production?” I demand.
“Stuart wants him in the role. He has a huge following. He put butts in the chairs.”
Disgusted, I go to leave.
Galloway calls after me, voice sober. “Logan Clark!” I pause. “What are you going to do? Stay here your whole life auditioning for roles that have been few? I’ve noticed you’ve stepped it up since we opened. That’s because you’re feeling intensely competitive with him and it’s working. But I have to tell you something. You’re a better dancer than he is. If you stick with this, you can be a bigger star than you ever dreamed possible.” I let go of the handle and turn around. She stands up and approaches me. “Think of every country you’ve ever wanted to go. The trips are paid for. You’re performing in front of people who adore you. You can have any girl you want. Or any guy. People will give you gifts. You have a family in the theater. One like you never experienced in real life. There will be adventures that I can’t describe to you, the kind of excitement that seeps into your bones. There were adventures in my past that just by my thinking about them my adrenaline sparks and I’m there again. I will always have that.”
Heavy from the choice, I glare at her. “Why did you leave it behind if it was so wonderful?”
“It left me behind. The roles went to younger dancers. Time isn’t kind to people like us. We have to take our shot when it’s given.”
“Ms. Galloway,” I begin.
She cuts me off, “Whatever your feelings are for Samantha, don’t let one person distract you from a future so amazing, millions dream of living it. Here it is just waiting for you to say, yes.”
“I’ll think about it.”
My hand is firm as I turn the knob and leave her staring after me.
This is my decision to make.
I have somebody I need to talk to.
Chapter Eighteen
SAMANTHA
L exi wasn’t home, and she’s not answering her phone, so I’ve driven over to talk to Mom and Dad at his studio. Framed platinum records line the path to his second home behind a soundboard. Beside him, cut into the wall, is a glass case, where the old one he worked behind when he first met Mom rests on display. Technology has advanced, but he likes the reminder of where it all started. He has a thing for nostalgia. Dad has always been a huge romantic.
My cousin Gabriel walks out of the sound booth, surprising me with a big hug. “Samantha, how is your play going?”
“Gabriel! I didn’t know you were here. And it’s called a musical.”
He winks at me, “What I do is music.”
My hands crash onto my hips. “Oh, so you’re gonna play it like that, are you?”
“Since you won’t dance at my concerts, you think I’d go easy on you? Have you met me?”
“Hip-hop is not my strong suit. I keep telling you that! How many times do I have to keep telling you that?”
“You’re better than most of the dancers I’ve got on the payroll. Don’t tell them I said it.” He waves to Mom and Dad. “I’ll catch you guys later. Oh, Uncle Jason, I want to ditch the third track for Halo’s Eve.”
“No!”
“We’ll talk later.”
“I’m not budging on this, Gabriel!” Dad shouts.
Mom pats the couch next to her. “Don’t let him get a rise out of you. If he had his way he’d steal you from us and we’d be down another child.”
My smile falters as I sit with her while Gabriel smirks, “For a good cause!”
Dad shouts, “Yeah, yours! Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, ya selfish bastard.”
Gabriel’s laughter disappears as the lock clicks. Everything is soundproofed.
Mom mutters, “Don't call your nephew a bastard, Jason.”
“You always do.”
“But I’m me.”
As they banter, I’m silently wondering how I could have forgotten that this might not be good news. I’ve been so caught up in the glitz, it never occurred to me what happened when we all had dinner with Caden right before he moved to Chicago. It was so painful, especially for Mom and Dad. She
