When a struggling Broadway talent agent reluctantly agrees to represent a male stripper, she finds out there's more to her new client than oiled abs.
Season 1 of Strip in the City
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Today might be the worst day of my life. I just lost my biggest c...
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Holy shit. If Lucas's messages were true, then West hadn't just abandoned our audition. He was sitting in a chapel at the hospital, grieving the loss of his friend.
Everything slowly clicked into place. West left his phone inside his neighbor's house, that's why he couldn't call. And, of course, he didn't have my number memorized.
And, before he'd gone back to say goodbye to his dying friend, West had asked Lucas to reach out to me on social media and let me know he couldn't make the audition.
Maybe I did mean more to him than I thought. Maybe he did respect me.
I think it was Newton who said, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Well, if that was true, my body was experiencing it. The pain and the hurt and the fury I'd felt earlier transformed into this unbearable need to find West.
I grabbed my purse and toed on a pair of sneakers, then rushed to the hospital, not sure what the hell I was doing. Twenty minutes later, I was standing outside the hospital chapel, staring at a sign that said, "Please be respectful of grieving families and keep chatter to a minimum."
My heart was pounding in my chest, and I was sweating a river down my back. Adrenaline had gotten me here, but I wasn't sure what to do now. My brain had finally caught up with my heart, and now that I was here, I was thinking critically about the after-effects.
Brain: If I went inside, I was definitely crossing a professional boundary.
Heart: Fuck the boundary. I wasn't visiting West as his talent agent. In fact, the part of me that was his talent agent was still hurt and angry he hadn't shown up to his audition. I'd be visiting him as Maren. His...friend.
The part of me that had read Lucas's numerous messages and raced unthinkingly to the hospital was the part of me that cared about West as more than a client. And maybe even as more than his friend.
If I went inside this chapel, I knew I'd be crossing a line I could never come back from.
Who was I going to listen to? My brain or my heart?
With one hand on the door and one gripping my purse, I hesitated for a moment before making my decision. Even though my heart had a terrible track record, I was going to listen to it tonight.
I didn't want to leave West alone.
Slowly, I pushed open the chapel door and peered inside. The room was empty save for one person. As soon as I saw West, I knew I made the right decision.
I couldn't see his face, but I knew it was him. My body reacted the same way it always did when we were in the same room.
I closed the door behind me as quietly as I could. I'd never been inside a church before, except on a class field trip, and briefly, I wondered what the protocol was. The lights were down low, and candles flickered from a table at the front.
