I took a single tentative step forward, he smiled again, shook his head just slightly. “Sleep well.” And then he turned back to his own door, working his own three locks with ease.
Safely inside my apartment, I slid to the floor like a melted ice sculpture of the goddess Embarrassment. What had Teel done? How had she placed me in an apartment across the hall from a potential business colleague, from someone who had practically begged me to give him a break in the brutal world of the theater? What had Teel been thinking?
I caught a whiff of the delicate soaps that were balanced in the crook of my arm. What high horse was I sitting on? What right did I have to chastise my genie, when I was clearly not above having some outside communication with playwrights? At least when it benefited me, personally.
Shaking my head, I clambered to my feet. Crossing to the kitchen, I deposited my treasures on the granite counter. I opened the cabinet to the right of the sink, discovering a dazzling array of glasses. Leaning against the counter, I ran the tap for a minute before filling a tumbler with water, drinking it down, filling it again.
As for aspirin, that would have to wait. Unless Teel had filled my medicine chest as well. I shuffled back to the bedroom to find out.
CHAPTER 6
IN THE MIDDLE of the night, I bolted upright in bed.
I didn’t know what had awakened me—one moment, I’d been sound asleep, the next, I was absolutely, completely, one hundred percent awake. I caught my breath, listening for strange noises coming from the front of the apartment.
Nothing.
I winced as I remembered the Godmothers I had consumed. Swallowing hard, I expected to be rewarded with the parched nausea of an incipient hangover. Somehow, though, I’d lucked out. Or else Ryan’s recommended water and aspirin (Teel had, in fact, provided for me) had served me well.
Ryan.
Flushing with sudden embarrassment, I tossed off my duvet. I squeezed my eyes shut in the darkness, but the image of Ryan’s face remained before me—his earnest eyes, his goofy grin. His quiet, firm, decision to send me off to bed, alone.
No. I couldn’t think about that. I didn’t even know the guy. Why had I considered inviting him into my home? Um, into my bed.
Sure, Dean had abandoned me, left me high and dry, but there were better ways to declare my emotional independence than throwing myself at the first thing in pants that crossed my drunken path. Moaning about my alcohol-inspired stupidity, I rolled over onto my stomach, covering my head with my pillow.
Not that smothering myself helped much. I could still see Ryan, picture him as he’d stood in the Mercer’s Bullpen, gawky and uncomfortable. I could envision the script that he’d handed to me, the sleek envelope that Teel had obviously used to manipulate her magic.
That envelope glinted in my mind, sparkling as if it were lit from within. Yesterday had been so crazy that I hadn’t even opened the thing. Hadn’t even glanced at the manuscript inside. Hadn’t even considered it.
Despite the fact that we were desperate to replace Crystal Dreams.
What had I been thinking? I needed to read Ryan’s play. Now.
Consumed with a sudden compulsion, I leaped out of my warm bed. I washed my face and brushed my teeth, not worrying when I flung water around my marble-finished bathroom. I tugged on the same clothes that I’d worn the day before, grabbing for my coat with an overwhelming sense of urgency.
So what if it was dark outside? So what if it had started to rain, one of those freezing early March downpours that would have been snow a few weeks before? So what if I was the only person in the entire Mercer Project complex, as I unlocked the glass door to the lobby, as I walked down the dark hallway to my office?
There! The envelope rested on top of my to-be-read stack, as perfect and pristine as I’d remembered. I didn’t bother looking for a letter opener; I just tore the thing open, like a starving
Safely inside my apartment, I slid to the floor like a melted ice sculpture of the goddess Embarrassment. What had Teel done? How had she placed me in an apartment across the hall from a potential business colleague, from someone who had practically begged me to give him a break in the brutal world of the theater? What had Teel been thinking?
I caught a whiff of the delicate soaps that were balanced in the crook of my arm. What high horse was I sitting on? What right did I have to chastise my genie, when I was clearly not above having some outside communication with playwrights? At least when it benefited me, personally.
Shaking my head, I clambered to my feet. Crossing to the kitchen, I deposited my treasures on the granite counter. I opened the cabinet to the right of the sink, discovering a dazzling array of glasses. Leaning against the counter, I ran the tap for a minute before filling a tumbler with water, drinking it down, filling it again.
As for aspirin, that would have to wait. Unless Teel had filled my medicine chest as well. I shuffled back to the bedroom to find out.
CHAPTER 6
IN THE MIDDLE of the night, I bolted upright in bed.
I didn’t know what had awakened me—one moment, I’d been sound asleep, the next, I was absolutely, completely, one hundred percent awake. I caught my breath, listening for strange noises coming from the front of the apartment.
Nothing.
I winced as I remembered the Godmothers I had consumed. Swallowing hard, I expected to be rewarded with the parched nausea of an incipient hangover. Somehow, though, I’d lucked out. Or else Ryan’s recommended water and aspirin (Teel had, in fact, provided for me) had served me well.
Ryan.
Flushing with sudden embarrassment, I tossed off my duvet. I squeezed my eyes shut in the darkness, but the image of Ryan’s face remained before me—his earnest eyes, his goofy grin. His quiet, firm, decision to send me off to bed, alone.
No. I couldn’t think about that. I didn’t even know the guy. Why had I considered inviting him into my home? Um, into my bed.
Sure, Dean had abandoned me, left me high and dry, but there were better ways to declare my emotional independence than throwing myself at the first thing in pants that crossed my drunken path. Moaning about my alcohol-inspired stupidity, I rolled over onto my stomach, covering my head with my pillow.
Not that smothering myself helped much. I could still see Ryan, picture him as he’d stood in the Mercer’s Bullpen, gawky and uncomfortable. I could envision the script that he’d handed to me, the sleek envelope that Teel had obviously used to manipulate her magic.
That envelope glinted in my mind, sparkling as if it were lit from within. Yesterday had been so crazy that I hadn’t even opened the thing. Hadn’t even glanced at the manuscript inside. Hadn’t even considered it.
Despite the fact that we were desperate to replace Crystal Dreams.
What had I been thinking? I needed to read Ryan’s play. Now.
Consumed with a sudden compulsion, I leaped out of my warm bed. I washed my face and brushed my teeth, not worrying when I flung water around my marble-finished bathroom. I tugged on the same clothes that I’d worn the day before, grabbing for my coat with an overwhelming sense of urgency.
So what if it was dark outside? So what if it had started to rain, one of those freezing early March downpours that would have been snow a few weeks before? So what if I was the only person in the entire Mercer Project complex, as I unlocked the glass door to the lobby, as I walked down the dark hallway to my office?
There! The envelope rested on top of my to-be-read stack, as perfect and pristine as I’d remembered. I didn’t bother looking for a letter opener; I just tore the thing open, like a starving
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