Lovers & Liars by Joachim Jean C

Author:Joachim, Jean C. [C., Joachim, Jean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Secret Cravings Publishing
Published: 2013-11-03T18:30:00+00:00

* * * *

With her hair cascading perfectly down her back, her long, slinky, red dress hugging her curves, and a short, white, fake fur jacket, Erica was ready to attend the premiere. Gunther was devastating in his black tuxedo, tailored to his body like a second skin. His face lit up when she joined him.

“Wow! You look fantastic! You’ll outshine the leading lady by a mile. You’re gorgeous.” He planted a light kiss on her lips. “Don’t want to muss that lipstick.”

He offered her his arm, and they strolled out of the hotel together. The doorman flagged down a taxi, and they were on their way to the theater. There was a huge crowd there, plus cameras and reporters. Max Webster stood outside the theater, greeting people like a proud new father. He stepped over, kissed Erica’s hand, and shook Gunther’s.

“Big crowd,” Gunther said.

“Hope to hell they like it,” Max whispered behind his hand.

“Reviewers?”

Max nodded nervously. “New York Times, Wall Street Journal, The New Yorker and New York Magazine. Jesus, I’m stretched out from here to L.A. on this one.” He mopped his brow with his handkerchief.

Gunther squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll be a winner, Max. I feel it.”

“I hope so. Or we may not have a company.”

Sweat broke out on Gunther’s forehead.

Erica hugged Max then they all settled in their seats. Gunther shifted several times before the lights went down. Erica took his hand in hers. It was a little cold and clammy so she rubbed it. He shot her a grin and laced his fingers with hers as the overture began.

The musical completely enchanted Erica. She had always favored dramatic acting, or even comedy, over musical theater. But this show looked like such fun, she was revising her opinion. Am I too old to learn to sing and dance? Dance, maybe, but not sing.

She noticed Gunther’s attention was rapt through the entire first act. At the first intermission, he dictated notes about the play to Erica. She scribbled in her tiny notebook as fast as her fingers would fly. Gunther impressed her. He hadn’t missed a trick—things that needed fixing, or maybe should be eliminated, thoughts about the movie version.

After the show was over, Gunther had more comments for her to take down.

“Do you think it will be a success?” she asked.

He shrugged. “No way to predict.”

“But do you like it?”

“I love it. I’m hoping it makes it big. I’d love to do the movie version.”

“It’s amazing. I don’t see how it can’t be a success,” she said, grinning. He returned her smile, squeezing her hand as they filed slowly out of the theater.

“From your mouth to God’s ears,” he whispered.

Max ushered them into one of several waiting limos. “This’ll take you to the party,” he said.

The after party was a gala affair held in a private loft in SoHo. The giant, open space was divided by planters and screens. It was decorated festively, with streamers and silver and gold helium-filled balloons, as if the show was already a success.

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