I've Got This Read online

  “It’s only an outline.” Toby shrugs. “It wasn’t a priority, and I was mostly working on it in my own time.”

  “It’s a priority now. Take whatever resources you need to get it done ASAP—we want to see a draft on Wednesday morning.” Toby looks a little overwhelmed but nods. Malcolm sweeps his gaze around the table. “I like Toby’s idea. I like it a lot. It’s probably what we’ll go with. But I’ve got you all here now, and you’ve all cleared your calendars, so let’s brainstorm anyway.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Trav

  DEREK’S BEEN squirrelly all week, but it’s okay. I know it’s okay because he told me. Oh, not in that “I’m fine” way that worried me so much last week. He actually came home from work on Monday night and said to me, “Trav, there’s something new happening at work that’s got me preoccupied. I’m not ready to talk about it yet, but if I seem distracted, that’s why. It’s not bad, don’t worry.” Since he’s been trying really hard to be open about his feelings about everything else, I can only trust that he’ll sort this out in his head and share it when he’s ready.

  It’s been a tough week, although a lot better than I feared. I spent Monday morning working myself into a lather about Derek going to work after our very difficult and emotional weekend. Then I turned on the business news (because I wanted to torture myself by checking for updates on Joy Inc.’s market status) and a panel of “experts” was discussing the situation. It made me want to vomit at first, but it actually wasn’t that bad—not the business side, because they all agreed that profits had dropped—but their analysis of the situation. The only woman on the panel said this was a rough patch that wouldn’t last because all evidence pointed toward JU being “simply collateral damage in the Rutherford murder.” They also had some nice things to say about Derek, although one guy said something that seemed more like a backhanded compliment than anything else: “I don’t believe Derek Bryer was involved in anything like that. He’s too diligent a businessman to not know how it would affect his bottom line.”

  Um. Okay? I guess respect for human life comes after the almighty dollar in his world. Still, it made me feel better overall that people are recognizing what’s actually going on.

  Derek texted after lunch to say he’d be a bit late home. The big bosses were in town, and his time was being taken up meeting with them. Luckily, his text also said that his job was safe; otherwise, I might have died waiting for him to get home and reassure me.

  I’m really glad Joy Inc. is going to sue Kylie Rutherford, because it saves me the trouble and expense. Plus, they can afford much better lawyers than I can—the kind of lawyers that aren’t happy until their opposition is crying tears of blood.

  Derek’s also optimistic about his financial forecast. He says the worst seems to be over, and he’s spent a lot of time this week encouraging staff to make sure things are fabulous for the guests who haven’t abandoned ship. It’s now more important than ever that the JU experience is a wonderful one.

  The other reason the week’s been tough is because Day Dot’s run at the village is winding down. In two more weeks, it’ll close and move on to… I think it’s Orlando, but to be honest, I’m not exactly sure. Since I didn’t plan to stay with the tour after the first six months, I never checked the whole schedule. We’ve been here for over three months, though, and that means we’ve all had time to almost put down roots. We’ve certainly collected a lot of crap, and now everyone’s trying to offload it before they have to pack their bags. I’m going to miss this cast—I’ve been working with many of them for almost a year now, and of course Rick is one of my favorite producers to work with. Plus, once the others leave, I have to face my future. Last Sunday while we were wallowing in feelings, Derek and I revisited my plans for after the show closes. We wondered if maybe I should go straight back to New York and find a part that started soon, since we thought he might be looking for work too—and God knows there are more jobs for him in the city than in Joyville. But then on Monday when he came home and told me Joy Inc. was going to bat for his reputation, we decided to stick to the original plan. I’ll look for work starting next year, and we’ll take the next five or so months to assess our relationship and consider our options.

  That’s the sensible plan, right? It makes it sound like neither of us are rushing into career decisions that would affect the rest of our lives. In reality, we’re both all in; we’re just procrastinating because we know there’s no easy solution.

  So now it’s Friday, and I’ve got the night off. I talked to Rick and John, who of course know what’s been happening, and they agreed to let my understudy perform tonight so Derek and I can have some time together to just chill. I thought about hitting the grocery store after the matinee and making a special dinner, but ordering pizza or something seems like a much better idea. We both deserve some sloth and calories.

  I slouch farther down on the couch. Derek should be home any minute, and while I wait I’m watching… something on Netflix. I can’t actually remember what it’s called, and it doesn’t exactly have me on the edge of my seat, but it’s letting my brain switch off, and I don’t think I need anything else from it.

  The buzz of the garage door opening cuts into my mental fog, and a few minutes later, it buzzes closed. The door into the house opens, and I smile. He’s home. Should I get up and go say hello? Nah, he’ll come looking for me—he knows I have the night off—and I really can’t muster the energy.

  Sure enough, a moment later he appears in the doorway from the kitchen… and I sit up, my lethargy forgotten. Something’s happened, and I think it’s good. He’s got this air of excitement, a silly grin that’s only half repressed….

  “What?” I ask. Whoops. Should I have led with “Hi”?

  “It’s okay to say no,” he blurts, and I blink.

  “Say no to what? Do you have some kinky sex thi—”

  “No!” He pauses. “Well, maybe, but that’s not….” He sighs. “I think we need to start again.” He comes over, drops onto the couch, beside me, and leans over to kiss me. “Hi.”

  I smile. “Hi. You look happy about something.”

  “I am.” He nods. “You know that thing at work I was preoccupied with? I’m ready to talk about it.” He looks so proud of himself that I can’t stop a grin.

  “Okay, tell me. This is good news, I’m guessing?” I lay a hand on his thigh. I love touching him.

  He nods again. “I think it is, and I hope you will too, but it’s okay if you don’t.”

  That’s the second time he’s said something like that, and it’s no clearer than it was before. I wait somewhat impatiently for him to get started.

  “So, I told you that Malcolm and Seth wanted things to be business as usual instead of trying to do damage control, yeah? And that they wanted an idea for expansion.”

  “Yes,” I say, because he seems to expect a response.

  “Right, so we brainstormed a bunch of ideas, and they asked for proposals on the three they liked the most, but one was always a front-runner. The proposal draft was green-lighted on Wednesday, and since then Toby and his team have been refining the details… and this afternoon Malcolm and Seth gave it the go-ahead. The press release will go out Monday morning.”

  I frown. I’m still not sure why he’s so excited. “Isn’t that kind of fast? To go from concept to approval in a week?”

  “It’s very fast,” he agrees. “Ridiculously fast. This whole project will be fast-tracked, though, because part of the reason for it is to serve as a distraction. That it’s a great idea and projected to be highly profitable is just a bonus.”

  Meh. Not my area, and really nothing to do with me. “All right, so what is it, and why are you so worked up about it?”

  “A production company at the village,” he says, and even before I fully take that in, something in my brain must grasp the implications—the possibilities—because every muscle in my body tenses. Derek’s watching me closely.

  “What kind
of production company?” I manage to ask. Oh God, oh God, could it really all just fall into my lap like this? A fabulous man who loves me in a great town where I’ve made friends and have an input in the community, and a job in my chosen field?

  No one’s that lucky, I warn myself, tamping down the excitement.

  But as Derek talks, explaining how the company will work, a little bit of the excitement dies off naturally. I enjoyed the two days working in the park but rotating between that and real theater work is not what I want for my career. Still, this is a better option by far than anything else we’ve come up with, and let’s face it, I’m an experienced performer at the top of my career—it’s unlikely I’ll often be beat out at auditions by the kids working in the parks. Some of them are really good, but they don’t have my background in theater. I force myself to keep smiling and pay attention, because this is good.

  “… and they haven’t worked out yet how it’s going to be managed, whether it’ll be part of the village district or events or entertainment or its own department, so the interview will be with Ken, Malcolm, and Seth. They’re coming back on Monday to do it—I told them that was best because it’s your day off. But if you don’t want to, tell me now and I’ll tell them not to bother.” He finishes on a slightly anxious note. Have you even seen a puppy desperately waiting for you to throw a ball or stick? That’s what the expression on his face reminds me of right now.

  I should have been paying closer attention, because it seems really weird that the CEO and CFO of Joy Incorporated would fly out from LA to interview a performer. Also, what interview?

  He must see the blankness on my face, because he sighs, then pats my hand where it’s resting on his thigh. “Where did I lose you?”

  “Right after auditions and rotating,” I admit, and he laughs.

  “You missed the best bit! The part where I said there would be one performer permanently attached to the production company to help the others ensure continuity—someone with a lot of theater experience, since most of our other performers don’t have that.”

  The hope that I’ve been carefully tamping down explodes out in fireworks. I swallow hard. “And, um, did I hear something about an interview?” Oh my God oh my God oh my God!

  He’s grinning widely now. “Monday at ten. Entertainment usually interview performers, but because this role probably won’t report to entertainment, and also because Toby blurted that he basically came up with the idea because of you and Malcolm and Seth are now curious, you get to interview with the big bosses.” He leans forward and kisses me. “Just between you and me, I think it’s pretty much in the bag. They went to see the show last night and googled you this morning, and then asked me about a million questions.”

  Oh my GOD!

  “So….” I stop and swallow again. “So what you’re saying is that I could have a job here?”

  “If you want it.”

  I study his face. That slight anxiety is back, mingling with his excitement. He’s so handsome and charismatic—I don’t think I’ll ever not notice that—but now when I look at him, I also see his kindness, his bone-deep desire to please, to make people happy.

  “I want it.”

  Epilogue

  Derek

  I SING loudly to myself and anyone who might be listening as I drive to the airport. My musical repertoire has expanded since Trav came into my life, and I’m not ashamed to admit that the song I’m belting right now is a power ballad—“Glory of Love” by Peter Cetera. Trav’s right; there’s something extremely satisfying about putting all your energy into those lyrics.

  In six months, my life has changed, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. If someone had asked me at the beginning of the year if I was happy, my answer would have been a resounding “Hell, yes!” And I was happy. I had everything I wanted—until I met Trav and realized I needed him more than any of it.

  Before Trav went in for that interview a couple months back, he asked me rather anxiously what we’d do if he didn’t get the job. We’d both been putting off making permanent decisions because it was just too damn hard, but right at that moment, looking at his face that I love so much, I knew the only decision that mattered was the one to stay together. So I told him if he didn’t get the job, I’d quit mine and move back to New York.

  And I meant it. After he left, I even went so far as to make a few calls, see what was out there, and not once did I feel uncertain. Because as much as I love JU, I love Trav more, and I could never be happy again without him.

  But in the end, it was a moot point. Seth and Malcolm both thought Trav was—is—perfect for the job. They offered it to him on the spot—I think the interview was a formality. Trav found out later that they’d already reached out to some contacts in New York to ask about him. He accepted the job, of course, and we celebrated all night long, if you know what I mean. That’s right, if you could see me right now, I’d be winking at you.

  Things moved into high gear pretty much straight away, and the plan is for the company to begin performances early next year. The first show has been selected, and auditions will begin as soon as a director is hired, which hopefully will be next week. Trav’s superexcited—he had a huge part in deciding which show to open with, and he’s going to be the lead. He won’t always, but for this first one, he can’t resist. He still has trouble believing everything worked out so well—this is his dream come true, the opportunity to perform pretty much any part he wants without having to deal with the Broadway hype. And he has me. Do I sound smug? I feel smug.

  Right now, like I said, I’m on my way to the airport. Trav went up to New York last week to start packing up his apartment, and I’m going to help him finish up. We’ll also introduce each other to our respective parents and chat to a director Toby is convinced would be perfect for us. Keep your fingers crossed that he is, because we really need someone soon.

  Oh, you probably want to know what’s going on with JU and the whole murder thing, right? Well, profitability still isn’t where we want it, but it’s close. By the end of the year we should be back to normal—and we’re definitely in a better position than the experts projected. That was probably helped when a really well-respected crime journalist did an investigative report. She was extremely thorough, extremely factual, and completely ripped Kylie Rutherford’s claims to shreds. That report was syndicated across the world, and the reporter has made guest appearances on some popular talk shows to discuss it. So that helped spread the word.

  It also helped when Joy Inc. sued. For some reason, people assume that suing means you’re in the right. Both the criminal and civil cases are awaiting trial, but I’ve been assured that given the overwhelming evidence for both, it would take a miracle for her to get away with it. Meanwhile, the word is that she’s afraid to leave her house. Society has snubbed her, and people jeer at her in the streets.

  I’m okay with that.

  I’ve got a pretty great life. A job I love, friends I get to see nearly every day—because yeah, I’m working on building closer friendships—and in a few hours I’m going to be with the man I love.

  We’ve got this.

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