Body Heat. Adrianne Byrd
his attention to the stage, drew a deep breath and prepared himself for anything.
Well, almost anything.
A woman waddled out on stage in a dress so tight he swore the entire front row could hear the seams screaming. Hylan didn’t mind so much since the actress had an incredible body. She was stacked like a priceless work of art with full breasts, slim waist and rounded hips. If this play involved nudity it was definitely going to get two thumbs up and a couple of toes from him.
“That’s not Crystal,” Shonda hissed, frowning.
Good. That meant that Hylan could avoid a sticky situation between girlfriends when he slipped this black angel his number after the show. Sure the slick move would make him what women called a dog, but to him and his fellow Kappa Psi Kappa brothers it was what they considered exercising his options. Which for the record, he did on the regular. And why not? He was single, handsome and rich. Why shouldn’t he shop around and play with all the toys his lifestyle afforded him?
Hylan smiled, wondering what her back view had to offer—something lush and squeezable he hoped. He took his time committing every curve of her incredible body to memory. When his gaze finally reached the actress’s face, he sucked in a sudden breath at the sight of what could have only come straight out of his dreams. Her glowing oval face, plump full lips, crescent-shaped cheekbones and large doe-shaped eyes were a lethal combination to his heart…and his libido. Immediately, he started imagining how sexy she’d look draped in diamonds and writhing on a bed of black satin sheets.
Suddenly, his pants felt tight. He shifted in his chair and hoped that Shonda wouldn’t notice.
“Isn’t she going to say something?” Shonda whispered.
Hylan’s brows jumped. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized that while he was ogling the actress, she had been on the stage for at least a full two minutes and hadn’t uttered a single word. In fact, she looked paralyzed—frightened.
Someone coughed in the audience, probably hoping that it would jar her out of her trance. When that didn’t work, he could hear people shifting and grumbling. Still, his frozen angel stood in the center of the stage. A low murmur rippled around him. He watched as the woman’s bottom lip trembled and her eyes watered. Clearly she was just seconds away from a breakdown.
He jumped to his feet.
“Where are you going?” Shonda hissed.
He blinked. Where was he going?
Finally a pencil-thin woman raced out on the stage and started whispering feverishly into the actress’s ear. Whatever was said flicked on a switch and the actress quickly started babbling out dialogue at a clip that was mind-boggling and robotic as she waved a hot comb in the air.
Hylan lowered back into his chair. From Hylan’s side, Shonda snickered. “She’s awful.”
Hylan agreed, but he was still fascinated by the beautiful actress. Who was this woman? How old was she? She looked young. Was she married? Had a man? If she had either of those things, was she happy? Shoot. A brother was just trying to get where he fit in.
The actress made a dramatic turn as other actors started to drift onto the stage, but when she did there was an audible rip. A gasp rose from the crowd as everyone was treated to a beautiful view of a pair of red-lace thong panties.
“Hot damn,” Hylan mumbled under his breath as he gazed upon the most beautifully shaped ass he’d ever seen. Unfortunately, his exuberance was rewarded with a sharp elbow to the ribs and a narrowed glare from Shonda.
He tried to smooth it over with a lopsided smile that said, Hey, I’m a man, but Shonda just folded her arms until he melted back into his chair.
The initial shock gone, the audience roared with laughter.
The actress’ face turned as red as her panties and she raced from the stage with tears streaking down her face.
The other actors stood stock-still for a few minutes and then continued even though the crowd was damn near in stitches and couldn’t possibly hear what was being said on stage.
Hylan stood—ready to bolt backstage to check on the actress, but Shonda also stood and took his hand.
“C’mon,” Shonda said. “This blows. Let’s go back to your hotel…and play.”
Hylan hesitated, an unusual reaction when a woman was offering up sex-on-a-platter. But he really wanted to check on that horrible actress and make sure that she was all right, and, of course, slip her his number—as long as she wasn’t crying. He couldn’t stand it when women cried.
“Hylan.” Shonda tugged on his arm. “Let’s go, baby.”
What could he say? He had to leave with the one he came with. He smiled and then followed Shonda out of the row of seats. But as he, and a few others, shuffled up the aisle to the exit, he kept glancing back over his shoulder, wondering if the weeping actress would brave another appearance.
No such luck.
Chapter Two
To no one’s great surprise, Hot Comb & Hair Grease opened and closed on the same night. For Nikki, reading the reviews was about as much fun as having her skin ripped from her body with a steel cat-o’-nine-tails. Nah. That would’ve been more fun.
Seriously.
For the next seven days, Nikki buried herself in her bed under a mile of sheets and comforters and kept the phone off the hook. She didn’t watch television or listen to the radio. She just wanted silence, but was denied even that when a long line of concerned friends and family paraded up to her door and banged on it endlessly. Some even threatened to break it down, but then slumped away when Nikki called their bluff.
Even worse, in between visitors, Nikki couldn’t shut off her brain. All her woulda, shoulda, couldas just chased each other around her head until she was dizzy enough to pass out. When she woke the whole thing would just start all over again.
In the back of her mind, Nikki knew she was just being stubborn and childish. But she couldn’t help it. Everything she’d dreamed of, worked for and slaved over had just blown up in her face. She was a joke in the theater world. Her name will become a verb. You don’t want to pull a Nikki Jamison on opening night.
Nikki grabbed her favorite pillow and covered her head. “Aaarrrgh!” The scream felt good, but the relief it brought would only last for a couple of seconds. After that there would be more tears. More “what ifs,” and “why me’s”.
And she still hadn’t figured out what she was going to say to her parents. Somehow “sorry” didn’t quite seem like it would be enough or even adequate. She just lost them a good chunk of their retirement money with no way of getting it back.
Her mother would just pretend like it didn’t matter. Her father would demand that she face the truth and grow up—which she was willing to concede at this point and admit that maybe he was right. Maybe it was time for her to face the music—she was washed up. A has-been even before she’d ever been anything. Did that even make sense?
She had no problem imagining her parents’ disappointed faces because it was a look she’d become accustomed to. Her mother would look like her smile was pinned on and her father would look as if he’d spent the last twenty years sucking on lemons.
Ella Joyce Jamison was a soft spoken woman—unless you started messing with her children—then she would turn into a raging lion. She was convinced that Nikki just wasn’t challenged enough in life and tended to have an active imagination. This was all true. But Wilbur Jamison saw his daughter’s inability to finish what she started as a sign of complete laziness and lack of discipline. There was a little bit of truth in that statement as well. At least it was true when it came to her dropping out of ballet, gymnastics, track, the softball team, the basketball team, college, design school and even cosmetology school. Every new hobby or project or school, her parents were right there—one