Exit Stage Left

Chapter 7: Heritage

I'm crossing the street, eyes locked on my destination so narrowly, I bump into someone.

"Nice to see you're back," Miller says as he catches me, holds me gently but firmly in his hands.

I blush immediately on the crowded street, tucking close to him to avoid being jostled by passing pedestrians. He guides me aside, close to the corner building, body curved around mine to protect me. It's sweet, but I don't need to be protected.

So why haven't I stepped away yet? Or shrugged off his one hand still resting on my waist?

At least there's no sign of my guilt about standing here with him so close. My imagined Ian is nowhere in sight.

I smile with calm I don't feel. "I had so much fun last time," I say, trying for some sparkle in my voice, mentally wincing and dialing it down when all I hear from my own mouth is fake yuck. "You were right about the class." That feels better, more normal, less hysterically trying to come across as real. "It was great."

Miller lets his hand drop, but his smile remains, warmth in his blue eyes, in the soft frown of his brow as he leans close, intimate but not overpowering, just a private moment in a not-so-private setting. I'm acutely aware of him, how he smells like coffee and sugar, and, peripherally, of the street around us, horns honking, people striding past.

They fade, the whole world does, when Miller speaks.

"Piper said you were brilliant," he says. "And what I saw really impressed me. Who was your mother?"

I gulp down a breath. "My mother?" Oh, yes. Hadn't I told him my mother was an actress? "Marie James," I say. "But she worked under Marie St. Claire." Her maiden name. I think it bothers Dad to this day. Not that I care.

Miller's eyes widen. "No wonder you look familiar," he says. "I adored your mother's work."

He knows Mom? I almost latch onto him in excitement, forgetting my nerves, my shyness, the discomfort of my body's soft yearning for him. The little girl in me is desperate for a connection to my mother beyond the hazy memories I still carry. "You watched her movies?" Mom was a "B" actress at best, at least according to her.

But Miller shakes his head. "No, not at first," he says. "I saw her on stage when I was twelve. She was incredible." It's his turn to blush. "I had a huge crush on your mother."

Maybe that should be creepy, but it isn't.

"I went to every show of hers I could," he says, now leaning against the brick with one shoulder, hands in his pockets, smile easy and open. "And when I found out she made movies, I watched those, too." He laughs. "You must think I'm crazy."

Miller doesn't know crazy.

"I never got to see her on stage." Admitting it makes me want to cry, the old pain surfacing as it hasn't in a very long time. "But I rewatch her movies at least once a year."

Miller straightens and bows to me. "You may not know it," he says, "but your mother is a bit of a legend in the theater community. Using her name could open some doors for you."

Now it's my turn to shake my head. "No thanks," I say. "Besides, Mom died a long time ago."

Miller shrugs, offers me his arm. "Your secret is safe with me," he says. "But don't expect it to remain one for long. Especially once you're cast in a show or two."

Good to know. I realize then, beyond seeing her films, I know so little of Mom's life as a performer. Time to do something about that.

Miller pauses at the bottom of the stairs to class. His face creases in concern, voice low. "I forgot to mention," he says, "if you have any trouble with Roger tonight, just let me know."

Trouble with-

I sigh. Roger, right. And smile at Miller.

"I'll be fine," I say, marching up the steps. "But thanks."

It used to bother me when Ian acted protective, I think because he was so weak and didn't have the energy to waste standing up for me. But I don't seem to have a problem with Miller doing it.

I'm mulling that over when I walk through the door, Miller behind me, to a huge hug from Aleah. She pushes me back, her dark eyes narrowed, huge hoop earrings tossing as she glares.

"You're coming out with us tonight," she says.

I grin. "I am," I say. "Thanks for the order, captain." And salute her.

Aleah laughs, swats my arm. Bats her lashes at Miller.

Who winks back.

I smell a conspiracy, but don't complain as I hand over my ten dollars and follow Miller to the center of the room, still not sure if I want to pay Roger his full fee or not. I feel more at home tonight, less like the new girl. When I spot the gorgeous blonde woman staring at me again, I stare back until she looks away.

Piper lunges from the crowd, hugs me around the neck so tight I choke.

"Riley," he says. "Where have you been all my life?"

I kiss his cheek, totally outside my comfort zone, but I adore him completely. "Right here, waiting for you."

He gasps, touches the place my lips were, flutters his thick lashes much as Aleah had just done. "Didn't I tell you how incredible you were?"

Ruben snorts, tosses his head at me. Then smiles. "Don't make me jealous, hon."

I hug him, too and he hugs me back. "As if." I look down at his boots. "You need to take me shopping." Yes, I love mine, wearing them right now actually, but his are gorgeous. Chocolate leather with soft black etching and chrome tips.

Ruben slips his arm around my waist. "We'll talk," he says. Eyes my figure. "I can make you look so good."

Piper grabs my arm, pulls me free. "She's already hawtness," he says. "Leave a girl be."

I see Miller watching, laughing, and I have to laugh, too. Even while my cheeks flame with embarrassment. Not from the guys and their banter. But because of the way Miller looks at me.

Or the way I imagine he's looking at me. I shake off my assumptions. For all I know, he's just being nice. Even though the soft heat in his blue eyes stirs things in me I forgot were alive and well despite Ian's loss and I find myself wondering what Miller looks like in the dark.

With his clothes off.

I gasp when I realize where my imagination is taking me.

Roger appears, saving me from my overactive fantasy life and near-death from acute embarrassment just for thinking like that.

Another lecture, this one about as interesting as the last. I'm not paying attention, running through the weekend I spent working on my acting and researching techniques, especially improvisational techniques. Roger barely looks at me, doesn't ask me a question this time. Aleah comes to my side, takes my hand when he finally breaks us into groups.

I'm supposed to go off with Ruben's this time, but Aleah has other ideas. She pushes Piper toward his boyfriend and drags me with her. It's not until I'm in the circle I realize Aleah and Miller are both beside me.

Knowing he's here, that I'm going to have to perform in front of him, makes me feel queasy, frozen. I'm certain I'll fall flat on my face, ruin everything even as the first person steps out. Aleah. And she's still holding my hand.

The stunning blonde is across from me. I turn my back on her only to have Miller in my direct vision. Ian stands behind him, smiling, urging me on.

Aleah doesn't give me time to think, dives into a scene.

She's so expressive, her face so full of emotion, I forget everything around me and react. Fly free of myself and give her everything I have.

I'm aware when she trades out, feel the shift when a handsome guy takes her place. He's more dominant than Aleah, I feel his need to control the scene and ebb around him, allowing him to do so while I support him. And then he's gone and another young woman is there, perky and hilarious. Everything twists into funny and I'm happy to oblige her.

I feel like I've been there, switching personas, forever, when the gorgeous blonde appears before me. I can feel her aggression, but she doesn't engage despite the fact I'm ready to continue. Turns away from me and points at Miller.

"I think she's had enough," she says. "Who's up?"

It's shocking to step back, to glance at my watch and see I've been in the circle for almost a half hour. Aleah scowls at the blonde, Miller, too. He doesn't step out, one of my former partners going instead. I watch and absorb the blonde's performance. She's talented, really talented, and I wish I had the courage to enter the circle again, to challenge her and see what the two of us could do together.

Too late, she turns and leaves our circle. Miller finally takes the center and, on impulse, I join him.

His face crumples, hands lifting to me, shaking as tears moisten his eyes. "I loved you," he says. "And you broke my heart."

I feel his hurt like a living thing, reach for him on impulse. Step away. I'm not acting. I'm living it. And even as I do, I know this, this is where I'm supposed to be. Not just out of myself, but coming back in as a new me. Present as the girl who broke his heart.

"I had to go." Quiet, murmured, my body trembling. "I didn't want you to watch me die."

His eyes widen, hands falling slowly. "But you're alive, here, with me."

"For now," I say. "For a little while."

Miller closes the distance between us, hand cupping the back of my head, fingers wound in my hair, his other pressed to the small of my back. His lips hover over mine as I feel myself go limp in his arms, breathing in small, sad pants.

"For as long as we have," he whispers. Then kisses me.

I die in his arms.

Applause breaks us apart, Aleah wiping her eyes between claps. I stand, breathless as Miller bows to me.

I shiver at Ian's sad smile before he fades away.

"Like mother, like daughter," he says before backing away to the edge of the circle.

I retreat, too, taking deep breaths, knowing I've finally found exactly what I was looking for. This was what Mom talked about. Being someone else inside yourself. I'd been close before, but with Miller, I found it.

And I love it.

I almost cry when the two hours is over and it's time to go. Roger's, "And that's class," breaks my attention and the spell this whole experience has held over me. I spin in a circle, hugging myself, wanting to laugh and weep and squeeze every one of the other actors. I do hug most of them, at least the ones in my circle, thank them for a wicked time. They all seem happy, bouncy and excited, raving about my performances, how much fun they had with me. Their comments are all the same, run together into one big bundle of glowing joy.

I look for Aleah to hug her, too, and see her once again in conversation with the beautiful blonde. But this time they both look angry. Whatever their argument is about, the blonde leaves in a huff, Aleah scowling after her.

And then Miller is beside me, his familiar smile as good as a hug. "You said you were coming with us this time?"

I nod, my nerves jangling, but not wanting this night to ever end. I think of Ian, grateful he hasn't appeared again to shatter my wonderful good humor, and promise myself Miller is just a friend. For now. Maybe, at some point, I'll be willing for it to go further. But I tuck Ian into my heart even as I smile back at Miller.

"Wouldn't miss it," I say.

I'm partway down the stairs when I realize I've forgotten my purse. "Damn," I say to Piper as Miller and Aleah talk, walking down ahead of us, heads close together. "I'll be right with you."

Piper waves, Ruben too, and thud down the stairs, voices loud. I spin back, squeeze with a smile of apology between two people and hurry down the hall back to the room.

It's mostly dark, only a single exit light casting illumination. I spot my purse on a chair by the far wall and go to retrieve it, shaking my head at my own silliness.

Bend to pick it up, mind racing over tonight, the most amazing night I've ever had.

And scream as someone grabs me from behind.

***