“Oh,” she said, shaking her head with a nervous chuckle. “Oh. That’s good. I mean, sorry. I’m so sorry about your hand! I, uh, then…”
Mr. Durran smiled kindly at her, putting her at ease. “You might need a good lawyer to look over a contract for you in the near future. Perhaps Mr…”
“Winslow,” said Green Eyes, his deep, rich voice vibrating through her trembling body. “Preston Winslow.”
“Perhaps Mr. Winslow could help you out with that.”
Elise flattened her hand over her racing heart, looking back and forth between the two men in confusion before sitting back down on the stool by her dressing table. “A contract? What contract?”
“You know what I do, right, Ms. Klassan?”
She nodded. Everyone on Broadway knew Donny Durran—he was the best of the best. If you were discovered by Donny Durran, you’d made it on the Broadway scene. As long as you worked hard and stayed sharp, you’d have access to the very best parts in New York.
“Well, my partner and I are casting a new show. Part of the Lincoln Center summer series. It’s a revival of Ethan Frome. You know the story?”
Know it? Edith Wharton was Elise’s favorite author all time, bar none.
“I love it,” she croaked, trying not to faint, or hope too hard, or…faint.
“Ah, good. Always nice to find someone familiar with the material,” he said to Mr. Winslow, who hadn’t looked away from Elise since their introduction. As Mr. Durran turned back to her, he explained, “Garrett Hedlund has signed on to play Ethan and Maggie Gyllenhaal is playing Zeena, but the directors specifically wanted a young unknown to play Mattie. You’ll have to audition, of course, but I’m thinking…you.”
“Me?’ she parroted, trying not to hyperventilate. A lead role. In one of her favorite plays. At Lincoln Center? With Hollywood stars?
A small noise of disbelief escaped her throat—a cross between a whimper and a moan—and her heart was beating so fast she was starting to feel dizzy.
Wait, wait, wait, her subconscious intervened, strong-arming its way to the front of her brain. This must be a joke.
“But, He Loves Me Not is the worst play of all time,” she heard herself mumble as she exhaled the breath she was holding.
Horrified by her inadvertent disloyalty, she looked up at Mr. Durran, but was distracted by Green Eyes, who smiled at her—smiled the most sexy, beautiful smile she’d ever seen, and though it didn’t make an ounce of sense, she felt like that smile was suddenly holding her up. She nodded at the hot lawyer gratefully then turned to Mr. Durran, taking a deep breath and composing herself.
“I just mean…it wasn’t my best work.”
Mr. Durran nodded. “The material’s trash. But you weren’t.”
She licked her lips, forcing herself to stay focused on Mr. Durran, though she would have liked to see Green Eyes’ reaction to such praise.
“You were quite good, Ms. Klassan. Quite good. Mr. Winslow and I caught your performance two nights in a row, and not because we found the play the least bit compelling. But, you…well, I’ll be damned if you don’t have something.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “I’ve written the audition time and place on the back. Tuesday afternoon at three. The Claire Tow Theater at Lincoln Center. You know it?”
“I know it,” she whispered.
He nodded. “Well, that’s fine. Don’t let me down, Ms. Klassan.”
“No, sir,” she said, grinning up at him. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“You’re welcome.”
She felt like she should say more, so she added, “You’ve just made my dreams come true.”
“I think you did that all yourself,” said Mr. Durran, “doing the best you could with this lemon.”
Elise’s glance flicked to Green Eyes, who still stared at her, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “And thank you, Mr. Winslow.”
“Mr. Winslow,” said Mr. Durran thoughtfully, darting a quick glance back at his associate. “He had much more to do with this than you know, Ms. Klassan. He was…captivated by your performance.”
Elise watched as his cheeks flushed and his smile faded, but he didn’t drop her eyes. He stared into her, through her, like he was captivated by far more than her performance and though some part of her knew she should find such searing attention unnerving, it wasn’t. It was exciting. It was exhilarating. Unchecked it could prove…addictive.
“Well, I’ll leave you two now. Tuesday, Ms. Klassan. At three.”
“I’ll be there,” she murmured, dragging her eyes from Mr. Winslow to smile at Mr. Durran. “And thank you again.”
Mr. Durran winked at her, then turned, exiting her dressing room and leaving her alone with the beautiful, intense Mr. Winslow.
Chapter 3