Dissonance Read online

  “From the top!” he shouts, not looking to see if everyone is here. Not even bothering to check if anyone is waiting at the piano. “We’ve got some timing issues after the intermission. We’re going to solve them immediately. Anna!”

  She steps forward timidly, her eyes darting to Cam.

  He smiles at her reassuringly.

  “Yes, Mr. Willis?” she asks faintly.

  “I don’t want to do a full dress today, but watch your wardrobe change between acts three and four.” John sits down hard, looking her over blandly. “While I don’t mind catching sight of your nipples, some members of our audience might. Take the stage fully dressed or don’t take it at all. Got it?”

  “Yes,” she agrees eagerly, her face flushing red with either anger or embarrassment. Probably both.

  John stares at them all expectantly. “Did I not say from the top?! Move!”

  The entire company springs into action, taking their places frantically. The piano kicks into the start of the first number.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Jace

  “Welcome to New York, Mr. Ryker,” the stewardess coos coyly. She extends her hand to me, shaking it lightly.

  I smile crookedly at her. “Thank you. For everything.”

  “You’re welcome. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

  “I always do.”

  She holds onto my hand a second longer than normal. The sharp press of paper crinkles between our skin. “Let us know if you need anything to make it more enjoyable. We’re always available.”

  I take back my hand, carefully palming the note she’s left inside it. I nod once before stepping down out of the jet. A shining black car waits for me on the tarmac under the moonlight. I stroll to it slowly, handing off my duffle to the driver waiting by the trunk.

  “Mr. Ryker,” he greets me with a bow of his head.

  “Hi. How are you?”

  “I’m well, sir. Thank you.”

  I slide into the open door in the back. Grant jumps in on the other side, a stack of papers clutched tightly in his hand. “Did you sleep at all on the flight?”

  I chuckle quietly. “I know you did.”

  “Was I snoring?”

  “No. You asked if I slept. If you were awake, you’d know the answer to that.”

  Grant shakes his head. “Just answer the question, Ryker.”

  I smooth my pants over my thighs, avoiding his gaze. “I slept the whole time,” I lie.

  “You’ll be up all night.”

  “Good thing I’m in the city that never sleeps.”

  “You were made for each other.”

  He flips through the papers, searching for something as the driver slips into the front. It’s a matter of seconds before we’re cruising down the runway and out of the fencing. Under a minute and we’re on the road heading into the city.

  “I have a lot of calls to make to line up these auditions,” Grant tells me. “So you’re on your own tonight. Can you be trusted to stay out of trouble?”

  I touch the edge of the paper in my hand. “I’m sure I can find someone to hang out with.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “It’s all the promise I’m gonna make.”

  “Do me a favor and keep your nose clean, alright?” he asks tiredly.

  “If that’s a cocaine reference, it’s not funny.” I glance at the sheets Grant is shuffling rapidly. “Did you get the tickets I wanted?”

  He nods. “Every last one of them. That’s a hell of a lot of theater. You’re going to get hemorrhoids sitting for this long.”

  “I’m not going to watch every one of them all the way through. I just need an idea of the talent in them.”

  “Meaning you’re going to try to poach performers.”

  “It’s not poaching. I need them for two nights. Tops.”

  “Plus rehearsals.”

  “There won’t be many. There’s not that much material to learn.”

  Grant glances at me sideways, his eyebrow raised. “Anything new?”

  “Now you’re talking crazy.” I hold out my hand for one of the papers. “What’s first?”

  He hands over the top sheet. ”Incidental Intersection. It’s on an open-ended run. Story of five lives interweaving together.”

  I nod, holding out my hand for the next. “What else?”

  Grant hands me three more, all originals. “These were harder to get. Surrendered was sold out the entire time you’re here so I had to call in a favor on that one. The Opportunist was sold out too, but they gave up a reserved seat when I dropped your name. You’ll have to go shake hands with the director and cast after the show, so you need to sit through that one.”

  “Or show up after intermission.”

  “Don’t be a shit. They’re being hospitable.”

  “What about this third one? Rendezvous.” I hold up the info sheet for Grant to see. “I’d never heard of this one until a week ago. This was sold out?”

  “No, not sold out. It’s shutting down.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s losing money and the producers have given up hope of it turning around. It was hot a year ago but then it started to struggle and they lost their female lead to Surrendered. They couldn’t find the right replacement for her and it’s all been downhill since then. Just one of those things. No show lasts forever.”

  “If it’s tanking, why are we bothering with it?”

  “Because Danny has seen it and he loves it. He says there’s some real talent still involved, which is why I bought us tickets. It could be a good option for us. Strong, seasoned dancers in the chorus, and they’re all about to be out of work. That’s exactly what you need.”

  I nod thoughtfully, scanning the info on the show. If Danny is into it, I’ll give it a shot. He’s been my choreographer for the last four years and when I told him about the direction I was taking this show, he was instantly onboard. He’s excited to try something new and I’m counting on him and Grant to help me scout the talent we need to make it happen.

  My eyes drift from the show roster to the note in my other hand. From my work to my want. The lights of the city rush over them both, flashing the ten digits in and out of sight in a steady rhythm that feels like the beat of a bass pulsing and pounding. I can almost hear it as it sweeps through the cab of the car, as we rush toward the center of the city full of possibilities and promise. I listen to it and I wonder if this is my sound. I wonder if this is my song.

  The car rolls up to the glittering front of the hotel. It sparkles in the light of flashbulbs popping behind at least twenty black lenses. It didn’t take long for the media to figure out where I’m staying. Probably another leak in my already sinking ship.

  I slouch lower in my seat.

  Grant immediately notices. “You coming?” he asks cautiously.

  I shake my head, not turning to face him. “No. I think I’ll go grab a drink somewhere.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yeah.”

  “All night?”

  “Don’t be a babysitter,” I warn him. “I’ll be fine. I’m a big boy.”

  Grant stares back at me impassively, unfazed by my attitude. He’s been my agent for over eight years. He’s used to it.

  “I’m worried about you drinking alone, man,” he says gently. “You’re in a tricky place right now. You don’t need any more bad press. It’d be better to lay low until we get this concert under your belt.”

  He’s right and I know it, but as I look up at the building and the walls and the silence and the loneliness, I can’t do it. I know exactly what will happen if I try. I’ll end up pacing the room until the sun comes up, bouncing off the walls that confine me and constrain me, wondering where I’d rather be than where I am. I’ve asked myself that question a thousand times, but I’ve never found an answer because no matter where I try to lay my head, I always find myself in the same position. Pacing.

  “I need a couple drinks to come down,” I tell Grant, feeling like I’m
pleading with him. “I won’t be able to go to sleep right now.”

  “I have your Ambien prescription with me.”

  “I don’t need pills to sleep.”

  “Then you don’t need booze either.”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “No, it’s worse. At least what I have for you is prescribed by a doctor. What you’re doing is self-medicating.”

  “It’s just alcohol.”

  “Is it?”

  I scowl, getting irritated. “Seriously? Even you think I’m doing drugs? You’re sitting here trying to shove pills down my throat!”

  “Not those kinds of pills.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I found ‘em, Ryker,” Grant says heavily. “I found the pills in your bedroom last week.”

  I shake my head, completely confused. “What pills in my room?”

  “The little white ones in the baggy. No markings, no bottle, no script. What are they?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Be real with me, man. I’m trying to help you.”

  “I’m being real with you, Grant! I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Grant frowns. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”

  “As a heart attack. I don’t use. I never have.”

  “Then where did they come from?”

  I cock my head impatiently. “Where do you think?”

  His face falls, his shoulders relaxing. “Lexy.”

  “She was staying over a lot toward the end, and we both know she used.”

  Grant sighs, sounding both relieved and annoyed. “We’ll have to sweep the whole place and see if she stashed anything anywhere else in there. I don’t want Siobhan to find anything when she’s cleaning the place.”

  “Yeah, me either. She’ll kick my ass.”

  “Alright, well I’m going inside. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He looks at me hard, his eyes willing me to listen to reason. Only I can’t hear him. “Come inside. I’ll get a drink at the hotel bar with you and then you’ll go to your room. Don’t go out. Not tonight. Not alone. Nothing good can come of it.”

  I smile slightly, glancing at the clock on the car’s dash. Twelve-twenty-three. “My mom used to say nothing good happens after midnight.”

  “She was a smart woman.”

  “Will you get all up in my shit if I take one of those pills with a beer?”

  “If you pass out in this hotel instead of on a park bench, I’ll give your shit a rest for the night.”

  “For the week.”

  “The weekend.”

  “Deal.”

  Two hours later, I’m in my hotel room with a beer and an Ambien in my stomach and a discreet knock on my door. I walk to it purposefully, not bothering to put a shirt on. My jeans hang low on my waist as I open the door because I know who it is. Because I’m trying to figure out what I need.

  I know it the second I see her that she’s not it.

  I nod numbly to the brunette in the hall.

  She smiles brightly in return, her cheeks quivering slightly with nervousness. “I’m so glad you called,” the stewardess tells me.

  I step aside for her to come in, noting the uniform she hasn’t changed out of. When I texted her, she told me that they were just finishing up the cleanup from our flight and she could be here in an hour if she went home and changed. Sooner if she wore her uniform. I told her to get here ASAP, not bothering to mention she was racing the chemicals in my body. As it is, I’m feeling tired and woozy. A little off balance and a whole lot faded. I don’t have a lot of time.

  Once the door is closed, I’m on her. My mouth is over hers, swallowing her surprised gasp, but to her credit she doesn’t hesitate. She wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her body to mine as I push her back into the penthouse living room. She kicks off her high heels, falling an easy two inches in height. I have to hunch over to reach her mouth. It’s irritating.

  I pick her up quickly, bringing her legs around my waist. I don’t bother with the bed. I don’t even bother with the couch. Instead, I press her up against the window and reach up inside her skirt to push her underwear aside. She gasps excitedly, her pussy dry, but that’s okay. I know how to fix that. I thrust a finger between her folds, swirling it over the tender flesh of her clit. She bucks and moans, sucking my tongue into her mouth as I bring her higher and higher, closing in on the cliff but not letting her stop to enjoy the view. Under a minute of foreplay and she’s wet and ready, exactly how I need her.

  As she kisses her way down my neck, I undo my pants, yanking them out of the way roughly. I back away only long enough to slip on a condom.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she whispers breathlessly. Her hands slide over my shoulders, her eyes taking me in. Memorizing me. “I’m having sex with Jace Ryker.”

  “Yeah,” I grunt, hardly listening.

  “You’re a legend.”

  “Men aren’t legends until they die.”

  Her hands pause on my skin, unsure. I don’t give her time to think about it too long. I lift her up again, thrusting inside her in one abrupt motion that makes her shout at the suddenness. She gets over it quickly, her voice pleading in my ear.

  “Oh my God, yesssss” she hisses. “You can put your cock anywhere, Jace Ryker. Fuck me anywhere you want. My mouth. My pussy. You can have my ass if you want it.”

  I don’t. I kiss her to shut her up. Under my tongue and my thrusts, her worthless words disappear into mewls and whines that plead for more as I work her slowly. She’s pulling on me, pushing down on me, and the fire starts to burn in my gut. I move faster, chasing the flames, begging them to burn me out. To singe my flesh and leave me aching and destroyed.

  “I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come,” she mumbles against my lips, her breath coming short and fast.

  Lucky for her, because I’m on my way to it too and I’m not about to wait for her. I rub her out between us until she’s a quaking mass above me, finally silent. Then I take for myself. I fuck with abandon, bouncing her against the glass as she moans loudly, careening over the edge again until I come with her and fill the space between us with warmth and emptiness.

  I send her home immediately afterward.

  I never learn her name.

  I’m asleep before she reaches the lobby.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Greer

  The house is almost empty tonight. It’s hard to perform when you realize no one cares, but I try to remind myself of the people in the audience who do care. The ones who bought tickets. They deserve a good show, even if it’s one of our very last.

  By the time I clear out of the dressing room wearing my street clothes and far less makeup than before, most of the cast is already gone. They’ve headed out for drinks, trying to come down after the show. I’ll meet up with them in a minute, but right now I feel drawn to the stage. To the theater that’s been my home, even if it is evicting me soon.

  The curtain is down, so I step in front of the thick fabric to stand face to face with the empty seats. They stare back at me blankly, expectantly, and I feel a tightening in my chest. A roll in my gut that pushes me forward to the edge of the stage. I’ve never had a solo before. I’ve never held the spotlight and sang to the rafters the way Eve did. The way Anna tries to. Cam says I can do it, but I don’t agree. He says I’m a leading lady waiting to happen, but I don’t believe him because I don’t believe in myself.

  “Old McDonald had a farm,” I sing softly. My voice quietly dances off every surface. The roll in my stomach slows, easing happily as I listen to myself. As I give myself a small chance. “E-I-E-I-O.”

  The echo of my voice dies out quickly. Nothing magical happens. I don’t feel any more accomplished. If anything, I feel stupid, and I laugh at myself for being so ridiculous.

  Doing a sharp about-face, I turn to leave.

  “And on that farm he had a hen,” a ma
n’s voice suddenly sings back.

  I spin around, scanning the darkness and coming up empty.

  “E-I-E-I-O,” the voice continues.

  Whoever is singing is good. His voice is low and rough, rugged in a way that’s both intentional and learned. It’s also familiar in a surreal sort of way. The way you’d recognize Santa Claus if you found him in your living room one Christmas morning. He has no business being real, but there he is.

  “With a cluck-cluck here,” I sing back, squinting into the dark. A shadow is forming in the aisle. “And a cluck-cluck there.”

  “Here a cluck. There a cluck,” he sings, stepping closer to the stage, into the meager light sneaking and snaking past the curtain from the back. “Everywhere a cluck-cluck.”

  “Old McDonald had a farm.”

  “E-I-E-I-O,” we finish together, our voices falling into a perfect harmony as he comes to a halt at the edge of the stage. Inside the light.

  “Holy shit,” I breathe.

  Jace Ryker. Jace Mother-friggin’ Ryker sang Old McDonald with me.

  “Holy shit,” I repeat breathlessly. “What are you doing here?”

  “I caught the show.” He moves slowly along the front of the stage. He’s heading for the stairs. He’s coming up on the stage with me.

  “Holy shit.”

  He chuckles, glancing up at me from under his brow. His hair is ink black in the shadows, the angles of his face cut deeply. He’s a tall guy, taller than I expected. Muscular but lean. Like a basketball player. Or a golfer. Or a god. His eyes are dark and strangely demanding, like he’s daring me to look away.

  He looks so sexy I feel physical pain in my uterus.

  “You keep saying that,” he tells me.

  “I—Yeah. Yep.”

  “It was good. The show. I’m glad I got a chance to see it.”

  I blink, stirring myself out of my stupor as much as I can. Reminding myself I know more words than ‘holy’ and ‘shit’. “Not many chances left.”