Nights on Broadway



  Nights on Broadway

  By

  Mindy Haig

  Copyright © 2014 by Mindy Haig

  Cover Art by Mindy and Delaney Haig

  All Rights Reserved

  License Notes

  TABLE OF CONTENTS:

  CHAPTER 1 - JADE:

  CHAPTER 2 - JESSE:

  CHAPTER 3 - JESSE:

  CHAPTER 4 - JESSE:

  CHAPTER 5 - JADE:

  CHAPTER 6 - JESSE:

  CHAPTER 7 - JESSE:

  CHAPTER 8 - JESSE:

  CHAPTER 9 - JADE:

  CHAPTER 10 - JESSE:

  CHAPTER 11 - JADE:

  CHAPTER 12 - JESSE:

  CHAPTER 13 - JADE:

  CHAPTER 14 - JESSE:

  CHAPTER 15 - JESSE:

  CHAPTER 16 - JADE:

  CHAPTER 17 - JESSE:

  CHAPTER 18 - JADE:

  CHAPTER 19 - JESSE:

  CHAPTER 20 - JADE:

  CHAPTER 21 - JESSE:

  AFTERWARD:

  CONNECT WITH ME

  CHAPTER 1 - JADE:

  The sigh that escaped my mouth was so big, so heavy, that it might have been my soul freeing itself from my body. Its release didn't leave me feeling lighter; instead it felt like a lead cape had been thrown across my shoulders.

  I unpinned the cast assignments from the bulletin and walked into Dr. Evan Thorn's office.

  "Are you serious?" I asked quietly as I pushed the paper across his desk. "Did she call you? Was there a donation to the department?"

  He raised his eyebrow at me. "Good morning to you too, Bianca," he grinned.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. "You know I hate when you call me that, right?"

  "I do."

  "So? Why did you do this?" I asked again, pointing at the list.

  "Because you're perfect for Arabella. You have the voice and the look. You are this part, Jade. I did not give you the lead because of your mother. I respect her, but I wouldn't put my reputation on the line for a donation to the department. I promise you."

  "The school would probably want you to do that."

  "Well, the school can bite me. I don't want to be in this office forever, you know."

  I snickered, but just a little.

  "Jade, you were made for this role. This show could launch your career if you would give yourself to it." He said the words with a straight face, soberly.

  I could tell he wasn't lying to me. I'd seen him lie before; he'd never mastered that skill. But I grew up around politicians. I could spot a lie a mile away, even if it was hidden behind an affectionate gesture or a postured smile. Thorn was telling me the truth, at least the truth he believed. I just don't know if I believed it. I didn't have anything else to say, so I nodded and turned away.

  "Jade, the day you start to actually embrace your talent you are going to be a star. You have a fantastic voice, probably the best I've ever taught. The only thing you're missing is confidence."

  "You can't buy confidence," I said reflexively.

  "No, you can't," he agreed.

  Thorn was in his early thirties. He was sandy-haired, had an over developed sarcasm gene, and this innate charm that was magnetic, particularly to female underclassmen. I knew he'd had his eye on me. I knew he liked me beyond my meager talent. I could have been more than a student to him, but my heart was somewhere else.

  He was usually pretty honest with me. Sometimes he was a little too blunt and his words hurt. This time, I believed he thought I was right for the part.

  I just hoped he wasn't wrong.

  It didn't really matter if he was. The review would be gushing and glowing because no newspaper was going to print that the Lieutenant Governor's daughter was a hack.

  And that was why I always got the best parts whether I wanted them or not.

  The problem was didn't always deserve them. In all honesty, I rarely deserved them.

  I turned to leave the office.

  "Hey," Thorn started.

  I spun back to him.

  "Pin it back up on the board, the rest of the cast might want to see it," he said thrusting the paper back into my hand. "I'll see you at rehearsals."

  CHAPTER 2 - JESSE:

  "Mr. Ianescu, Mr. Coleman will see you in his office now," the receptionist started in her soft musical voice as she gently tapped my shoulder with her perfectly manicured nails.

  I startled.

  This was my sixth interview in four weeks. In all honesty, this was the firm and the position I was most interested in, but my expectations were extremely low. It would probably be fair to say I had no chance at all of getting the position, short of some sort of divine intervention or a miracle. All of the other firms I'd interviewed with in the city had sort of looked down on my background. 'Sort of' was an understatement. In fact there were two interviewers who had their noses so far turned up it was probably not even possible for them to see me at all. But that's the way it goes when one has absolutely no helpful connections, and my lowly status had not allowed the luxury of the coveted unpaid internships.

  I really didn't expect this interview to be any different and I was already mentally acknowledging the sad fact that I was most likely going to have to go back home to Ohio where I would be stuck for the rest of my life.

  Another reason I had not let myself really get attached to Jade.

  Jade.

  Just thinking her name made my heart skip and shatter at the same time.

  I gathered my things and slowly rose. I tried to push all my thoughts away, but my broken foot was throbbing inside my stiff leather dress shoes. The physical pain underscored everything that was wrong with my life, and highlighted how little control I had over my own plans.

  The receptionist's smile was fixed in place. Her teeth were unnaturally white. Her suit was most likely custom made to conform to her hourglass figure and her shoes had to have cost more than my rent. Just looking at her stole the last of my hope away. I knew I was going to have to smile and fake it enough to walk through that office door and try to sell myself to a man with the world at his fingertips while wearing a suit off the rack from a men's chain store up in The Bronx.

  I was out of my league. I was certain of that.

  I did my best not to limp as I followed the click of her stiletto heels down the marble hallway.

  Grade point averages and test scores were simply not enough. To get anywhere in the big city, you had to have connections, big important connections. Even the most complimentary letter of recommendation from the department head at Fordham Law was treated like it might have been from a Kindergarten teacher.

  But the monologue in my head was cut short when the heavy wooden door to the big glass walled office we were approaching was abruptly opened.

  The receptionist stopped in her tracks and I stopped beside her.

  The very small, very useless amount of precognition I possessed immediately flooded my mind with numbers as I looked at the smiling man who steeped through the door. He was fifty-four years old, married for twenty-three years and his mind seemed to be saying he had two and three children simultaneously, which was confusing. There was a general happiness about him, he appeared to be very fit for his age and his hair was only just barely streaked with gray. He stepped briskly toward us and extended his hand to me.

  "Ron Coleman," he started. "You must be Jesse Ianescu."

  "Yes, Sir," I answered accepting his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you," I started, but he cut me off immediately.

  "I am sorry to do this, but I have to go greet a client. Do you mind waiting just a few more minutes?"

  "No, Sir, not at all," I replied, though it was probably either relief or su
rprise that he heard because I had been thinking he was about to cancel the interview.

  "I'll show him back to the lobby," the receptionist said through her fixed smile.

  "That's not necessary, Cindy, he can wait in my office, I'm only going to be a few minutes. Bring him some coffee or something, make him at home," he smiled. Then he walked quickly away down the hall.

  Cindy pushed the door open wider and waved me inside. She was forty-three, but told people she was thirty-five. She also told people she could type one hundred and twenty words per minute, which was a gross exaggeration, and I really needed my brain to stop capturing the numbers floating around in hers because I did not need to know that she wished she could lose five pounds.

  "Can I get you some coffee or a bottled water?" she asked.

  "I'm fine, but thank you for offering," I smiled.

  The office was bigger than my apartment. It may have been bigger than my grandparents' house. The window out the back had a panoramic view of Central Park, with the Plaza Hotel off to the far right. Spring was in full bloom and the view was fresh and green after the long cold winter. It was sort of a shame that the desk faced into the room; that anyone could sit there all day with their back to all that beauty.

  The wall to the left was filled with fine bookshelves most were loaded with the standard books of the trade that you'd expect to find in such an office, but the ones nearest the desk had actual books, some classics, Tolkien, Twain and Salinger, but more were modern adventures from the likes of Jordan, Gaiman and Williams.

  In my mind, I was thinking that books were something we had in common, something I could discuss knowledgeably. Not that I owned many books, but having been working in a bookstore for four years, I'd certainly read a lot of books, I knew plenty about books. I was beginning to feel a little hope and then my eyes met the right wall of the office.

  I don't know how they didn't see that first.

  The entire wall was covered in framed photos and articles about the School of American Ballet and the New York Ballet Company. There were at least a hundred photos from performances and fundraisers. There were photos of the dancers and the after parties. And there nestled among them was Anika Rossi smiling as she held my arm so many years ago when she made her New York debut in a Midsummer Night's Dream.

  My miracle.

  My heart cried out. My eyes wanted to look away but they just simply couldn't. At that time in my life, she was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to me. She was beautiful; more than beautiful, she was perfection. Her blue eyes looked at me like I was something special. And when she kissed me, I was alive. But what happened between us was so much more than I could even begin to explain. She had precognition too, and when we met inside our minds we made magic happen. We saw the world, and we made the world exactly what we wanted it to be.

  I fell in love.

  Madly in love.

  Head over heels in love.

  But the magical summer ended and my real life was not a place that I could share with her. There was nothing to share. I didn't have two nickels to rub together. She was a star and I could only hold her back.

  I let her go.

  I broke the magical bond. I walked away from something absolutely wonderful because I had nothing to offer.

  And four years later I still had nothing.

  "I knew your name rang a bell, I just couldn't place it!" Mr. Coleman started enthusiastically.

  I startled.

  "I remember that night. I remember that young lady had a smile that was absolutely electrifying. I remember thinking that it took a very fine young man to stand back and wait on her while all those guests jockeyed for a moment of her time. Come, sit, let's talk," he smiled.

  CHAPTER 3 - JESSE:

  Mr. Coleman closed the office door, waved me to a chair as he slid into his own behind the big desk. I could tell he was torn between asking me about Anika and going right into the interview. Reading people's thoughts was not typically something my precognition let me do, but I could sense that he really wanted to talk about the ballet and that it had something to do with one of his children. While it seemed like we sat in silence for a long time, it was really just a moment before he asked me about her.

  "So, did you know Ms. Rossi well?"

  "Yes. I did. She was the most amazing woman I'd ever met. She was gifted and beautiful, but she was also a genuinely sweet person. I don't think she'd ever had a mean or jealous thought in her life."

  "How did you meet?"

  That was an awkward question. The truth was that I saw her in a dream and then she magically appeared standing in my path on the most desperate day of my life. I could not actually give him that answer, though. That truth would definitely eliminate my possibility of getting the job and probably imply that I was insane. The simple answer would have to suffice. "I met her on the corner outside the theater as I was walking to school one day. It was only about a week before that photo was taken. She was with a couple of other dancers from the company and how I actually got up the nerve to speak to her is still a mystery."

  He chuckled just a bit and nodded.

  "You must be a big supporter of the Ballet, that's quite a collection of pictures," I said with a glance over at the wall.

  "Yes, I am a very big supporter. I have two sons and I had a daughter," he paused. "She was born with a heart defect. She was always very petite for her age because of her condition. Dancing was her dream and even though she was frail, she was determined, tough as nails. She never gave up. She had tremendous grace for such a little girl. My wife and I did all we could to make her dream come true. The School of American Ballet was a very big opportunity for her. She wanted to go so badly, but we simply couldn't risk her living away from home. We moved everything here for her. She got one dance on the big stage. She's there in the center, with the flowers," he said pointing at the wall.

  "I'm so sorry for your loss," I told him sincerely as my mind reconciled his thoughts of two and three children.

  "Her name was Denise. She was such a great blessing. Her star just burned out too quickly. We couldn't leave here when she was gone. This was where her spirit lived. So we started a foundation in her name and we give scholarships to other young girls so they can live that dream. Do you still see Ms. Rossi? I've seen a number of her performances."

  "No, Sir. Ani and I met at a time when she was standing at the doorway of her future and my future was still a long way away. I had nothing to offer her. I was putting myself through school and working two jobs plus work-study to pay off my loans. I couldn't even afford to buy her flowers, and every dancer should have someone who hands her flowers. She deserved so much more than I would ever be able to give her, but letting her go hurt more than sleeping on a warehouse floor, especially because I knew she didn't want it to end. Ani had that same dream your daughter had, and it was about to come true. Staying with me would have held her back."

  He sat looking at me very intensely for a moment. "Were you successful? Did you put yourself through college and law school and pay off all that debt?" he asked, astonished.

  "Yes. In that respect, I was successful."

  "Incredible. In all honesty, Jesse, may I call you Jesse?"

  "Yes, of course."

  "Well Jesse, as I was saying, your resume is a bit thin. Most of the applicants that come in here have had the luxury of parents paying their tuition and affording them the opportunity to take on internships. Most applicants also tend to have connections, typically quite notable connections in this city. I've seen letters of recommendation from names you would not even believe. That being said, I'm not sure I've ever met anyone as self-motivated as you apparently are. I've looked at your transcripts and test scores, and they're impressive in their own right, but to manage all of that while working and maintaining that level of discipline is truly remarkable. Coming out of Fordham and Fordham Law you could
be well over two hundred thousand dollars in debt."

  "I was able to get a good percentage of the cost in financial aid," I admitted.

  "It's still an incredible accomplishment,"

  "Thank you, Sir," I said humbly; knowing inside that my accomplishment cost more than money and time.

  We talked for a good while about the position and why I was interested in contract law. I told him about the research projects I’d worked on and that I was skilled with numbers and with reading people, both of which were helpful in negotiations. He was definitely intrigued though he was quite good at facially concealing his interest. We talked about my family and my history. I told him how I'd made it this far. I probably told him more than I should have, but he was the first person I'd interviewed with who asked me those sorts of questions. He was interested in the man behind the weak resume, and I felt like my only shot at this job was if I could make him see that I was a hard worker who would do whatever it took to be successful. I'd given up a lot, sacrificed a lot in the past seven years since I left my parents' home. I needed to be successful so I could start living again.

  Mr. Coleman responded with information about the firm and the structure, telling me what it would take to find that success. But I wondered if the biggest step had been made nearly four years ago when that picture on his wall had been taken and for the first time in my life things just magically went right. That photo gave me a foot in the door. Mr. Coleman and I shared a bond of losing something truly beautiful that we loved.

  At last he said, "Jesse, I would like for you to come back tomorrow. I would like to have you meet the other senior partners."

  "I would like that very much, Sir."

  He picked up his phone and asked his secretary to check the calendars. They squeezed me into an early afternoon slot. I was guardedly excited. I would have to rearrange my work shift just a little. I would most likely have to disappoint Jade and miss our afternoon coffee.