home so she could eat my lunch, apparently.” His gaze sharpened as he glanced between Max and Nicola. “But forgive me. Did we interrupt your tête-à-tête?”
Max bared his teeth at Lachlan in annoyance but kept chewing.
Nicola rolled her eyes at both men. “No. Max was warning me about the bug spray.”
Tierney and Lachlan both grimaced. Further proof, Nicola supposed, that Max wasn’t pulling her leg. “Tell me, then, what else do I have to look forward to with an outdoor theater?”
Tierney squished a grape in her teeth and leaned back, popping her chair onto two legs. “We get yellow jackets if we eat outside, which is why they make y’all pile into the greenroom for lunch.”
“Not for the air-conditioning?” Nicola asked.
Tierney cackled.
Take that as a no.
“We get deer coming off the foothills, eating our scenic bushes. Raccoons on occasion too.” Lachlan offered Nicola the potato chip bag. “Crisp?”
She picked one chip out to be polite and crunched it, the salt prickling on her tongue. “Anything besides wildlife?”
Tierney picked through more of Lachlan’s fruit as she pondered. “When it’s an El Niño year, with all the rain, sometimes the stage’s ‘forest’ floods.”
“The dressing rooms too.” Lachlan beamed as he popped a chip into his mouth.
While holding his sandwich, Max nudged Nicola with his elbow to get her attention. “Planes will fly overhead at the most dramatic moment in a play, killing the mood. The audience has been known to get entirely distracted by a lone butterfly fluttering through the theater. And I once had a bird shit on my head during King Lear .” He finished this recital with a bite of his sandwich, then grinned at her through the mouthful, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.
Nicola fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Now you’re just bragging.”
He choked. Then he laughed.
Lunch passed pleasantly after that. Nicola was even feeling so good she sent a small sideways grin Max’s way, which he returned. She had a paying gig, the work—Judith’s nastiness aside—was fulfilling, Nicola liked her cast-mates, and Max seemed inclined to behave himself. Now.
Maybe taking this part wasn’t such a mistake, after all .
O ne week later …
“All right, my darlings, I want to work on the kiss between Titania and Oberon.”
Nicola blinked in shock as Rita made this announcement. Judith’s antagonism aside, things had gone well Nicola’s first week at rehearsal. She and Max had been able to maintain a cool but amicable distance, falling into a comfortable work routine. Things were mostly in a technical place with rehearsals anyway— enter here, stand here, wait a beat on that line —that sort of stuff. Nicola’s Max-Willpower hadn’t yet been tested like it had with the audition.
Then she walked into rehearsal on the second day of her second week and “Kiss” was the first thing out of Rita’s mouth.
Why does the universe hate me? The day was still young, but the sun was already sharp and bright, the shaded covers over the outdoor stage insufficient against such enthusiastic, chipper new light. Nicola’s skin was warmed but not yet overheated. Only a matter of time . A needlepoint of pain started behind her eyes.
“Uh, what kiss, Rita?” Shakespeare’s actual play had no such stage direction and none of the blocking Nicola had spent the last week learning had indicated kissing Max as a possibility.
Rita flapped her hands, motioning Nicola to silence. “I rethought the scene where Oberon lifts the spell, mija. Gilbert! Ay dios…where is Gil? I need my Bottom!”
Nicola was so wound up, she didn’t even laugh at that ridiculous statement. She flipped her script to the right place and reviewed how Rita had originally blocked the scene. Nicola’s heart was pounding out a sick, punishing beat inside her, but she kept her face expressionless, calm.
Stupid to think she would be able to get through this production without kissing
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