The Redhead Revealed
by
Alice Clayton
Copyright © 2010 by Alice Clayton
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976,
no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted
in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system,
without prior written permission of the publisher.
Omnific Publishing
P.O. Box 793871, Dallas, TX 75379
www.omnificpublishing.com
First Omnific eBook edition, September 2010
The characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead,
is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover and Interior Book Design by Coreen Montagna
Dedication
For my sister, who never recommended that I “tone it down” or “cool my jets” or “settle.” I thank you tremendously for this.
Chapter 1
I pulled my orange scarf a little more snugly around my neck and knotted it again so it tucked right under my chin. The air was cool this morning, and the first leaves of autumn fell gently around me, blown about by a blustery breeze. Fortunately, I was sheltered from most of the wind, and I took the opportunity to gaze once again at the scene before me.
Brownstones. Concrete. Yellow cabs. A deli advertising both pastrami and falafel.
I sipped my coffee regular and marveled at my life, where it had taken me. I loved New York.
The last few weeks had been amazing—and difficult. It was now late September and fall was officially on its way to Manhattan. The air was growing crisp, the early birds had pumpkins on stoops, and I was having the time of my life. Literally. I was insanely happy.
Except, I was really missing my Brit.
Let’s go back a bit.
When I first got to New York, I immediately went into rehearsals for a show in a small West Side studio space. After meeting the cast, I realized just how unique and special this show was, and I realized again how grateful I was to be a part of it. The music was magical, and the character Michael had created in Mabel (enter Grace) was exhilarating to explore. She was in her thirties, an aging beauty queen, and having an early midlife crisis as she struggled to define herself after a failed marriage. The show was witty, irreverent, and brilliant. We’d been workshopping for only a few weeks, but the investors and producers were already discussing the possibility of mounting a full production.
I was maybe about to be in my very first off-Broadway show! This was an ensemble piece, with a cast of fewer than ten, and we had grown exceedingly close. When a brand new show is put together, everyone inhabits characters who have never been given life before. This lends itself to a lot of introspection and analysis.
Learning, working, growing…I was eating this shit up.
I spent my days in rehearsal and my nights exploring the streets of Manhattan. I was utterly enchanted with this city. Having spent time here on business throughout the years, I thought I knew it fairly well. No, ma’am. That’s nothing like when you can call New York your home. And though I didn’t know how long I’d be here, I was determined to get the most out of my time. As soon as I arrived, I’d begun using my daily runs as self-guided tours. I ran through the Village (East and West), Noho, Soho, the Bowery, and made myself quite at home in Central Park. I now felt freshly and more deeply acquainted with my new town, and I was keeping my butt in top form for the show.
I went to museums, to shops, to parks, and I went to see a show at least twice a week. I still had the same feelings when I went to see live theater that I had when my friends back home took me to see Rent all those months ago: I was emotional to the point of tears, my heart raced, and my palms got sweaty. But this time, when I saw the actors onstage and heard the music and applause, I was filled with pride. I’d made it back into the community I had never—in my true heart of hearts—really left.
Also, Michael O’Connell (the show’s writer and creator and the friend who’d broken my heart in college) and I were spending a lot of time together. After not speaking for so many years—the result of an ill-timed one-night stand and the subsequent I-can’t-be-friends-with-someone-I-slept-with game he played wholeheartedly—we were slowly but surely beginning to know each other again. He was still delightfully funny, and he made my transition to New York a seamless one. When the rest of the cast found out we’d gone to college together, they were fascinated. We all spent evenings at least once or twice a week having cocktails at different bars around the theater district and telling stories about our wilder days. Michael and I never acknowledged our night together. Speaking about it in a group setting was obviously unthinkable, but we never spoke of it privately either—we just didn’t go there. That was fine by me. I simply relished having my good friend back, and he was one hell of a tour guide. In addition to my self-guided tours, I had his suggestions, and I was experiencing the city as an insider. It was enthralling. Spending time with Michael made it easier to deal with being away from home, and he definitely helped me focus on the show and my part in it.
And Jack? Well, this was a bit of a pickle…
We spoke on the phone at least once a day, usually more. We sent buckets of texts back and forth, usually laced with enough smut to make us blush if we read them in the company of others.
He tried several times to come for a visit, but between MTV appearances, countless interviews, and meetings, we just couldn’t get it worked out. I tried to get back to L.A. a few times as well, but my rehearsal schedule was so intense, there was no way for me to leave. We both understood the demands our careers were making, but that didn’t make it any easier.
Long-distance relationships typically work best (if at all) when the couple has been together a lot longer than we had. We went from a vacuum of sweet and sex and love, to zero face-to-face contact—and it was proving more difficult than either of us had thought it would be.
But we kept things spicy as best we could. The phone sex, the online sex, the pictures sent on the iPhone: hot. If anyone ever stole my phone…oh, man. His fans would implode.
Nighttime was the hardest. I really missed having my Sweet Nuts in bed next to me, warming my skin with his sweet breath as he kissed on me, his hands around my breasts as we snuggled in for sleep. I missed that the most, and I was having trouble sleeping, even though I was usually exhausted after a day of rehearsal.
I had made some new friends, and I bonded instantly with Leslie, who played my nemesis in the show. Her character was everything I used to be: young, pretty, young, talented, young, and a bitch. She was also hilarious in real life, and when we realized we were both entertainment-gossip junkies, we had something else to bond over. It killed me to not tell her who “Jack” was, but I knew it was still best that he and I keep our relationship under wraps. As far as the cast knew, I was seeing an actor who lived in L.A. Only Michael knew the exact truth. And he was strangely silent about the whole thing.
But something was up with my Brit.
He was going out—a lot. Which was fine because frankly, at twenty-four, that’s what you do. He was playing a few open mic nights out and about, and I was sick over not getting to hear him. I really missed listening to him play, especially the action soundtrack he’d compose each morning as I got ready. With the three-hour time difference, I usually talked to him at night, before I went to bed and before he went out. I was also in occasional contact with Rebecca, his co-star in the soon-to-be-released movie Time, which was guaranteed to make them both household names. We texted from time to time, and she informed me that while she remained on full Skank Patrol, the masses were definitely starting to covet the Hamilton with a frenzy I could feel even from the other coast.