The understudy

Kristine Atterbury, Contributor

The room was silent and still as he advanced on her with menace in his eyes. The woman had cringed at first, but now she stood ramrod straight, her eyes defiant. She shrank back almost imperceptibly as he grabbed her narrow shoulders and gave her a little shake. Then, without warning, he yanked her upwards, and crushed his mouth against hers. She squealed, her fists coming up to pound his shoulders helplessly before she sagged against him.

Suddenly she broke away.

"Ew! You were eating onions! Again?!"

The man only grinned at her.

Enraged, she turned and faced the rest of us sitting in the front row.

"Garfield! You expect me to put up with this?"

The stage was suddenly awash with lights as she hissed and stormed off. Garfield, the director, was up and running before she made it down the wooden steps.

"Claudia, don't get so upset."

I watched them as Claudia stomped down the aisle to the doors, her pretty face twisted in distaste. Garfield hurried behind her, speaking in soft, placating tones. When I turned back to the stage, Luke was reading his script, his sculpted features calm and unperturbed. The opening night of Stormy Night was only three days away, a play about the turbulent relationship between a woman called Mrs Edmonds and her secret lover.

Claudia hated the taste of onions, a fact she made clear to everyone in the theatre ad nauseum. Somehow, every time he knew they had a kissing scene to practise, Luke would decide he had a craving for a burger with extra onions and a double order of onion rings.

Luke was a fairly quiet guy, not usually a troublemaker. Nobody knew why he chose to torture Claudia this way. He came to rehearsals, gave it his best every time, and then went home. He didn't socialize much with the rest of the crew. Sometimes I wondered if he considered himself above the rest of us. I knew Claudia definitely did. She was a diva, no doubt. When Luke joined our production, we all thought they would get together, Claudia included. He was tall, with broad shoulders, well-toned arms, and a smile that could bring any woman to her knees. She was petite, with long, wavy hair, hazel eyes and perfect teeth. They were a match made in heaven.

Apparently, Luke didn't think so.

Watching me

I turned to my friend, Jan, for her opinion, and jumped when I saw that she had been watching me watch Luke.

"Take a picture, nuh?" she said impishly. "It will last longer."

I rolled my eyes.

She carried on, enjoying herself. "Go ask him to show you a few things, like that kiss!"

"Stop it."

I nudged her with my shoulder and she nudged back, giving me a wicked grin.

Everyone quieted down when Garfield walked back in, sans Claudia.

"Well, I hope you're proud of yourself," he said to Luke, shooting him an accusatory glance. "She quit!"

A collective gasp rose around the room. Luke simply raised an eyebrow.

"What she said?" I asked.

Garfield crossed his arms, his eyes still shooting death lasers at Luke.

"She said she don't think this play is right for her."

I blinked. What did this mean for the play?

My brain must have been on go-slow but it shifted right back into gear when Garfield fixed his beady black eyes on me.

"Gabrielle, you will play Claudia's part until we can find a replacement."

I gasped. Jan grinned. Luke kept reading.

"Okay everybody," Garfield continued, not noticing my panic. "Let's wrap up for today and come back fresh tomorrow."

Everyone began shuffling toward the door. Jan was practically hopping with glee. I shook my head at her in horror.

"I can't do it."

"Of course you can!"

I really couldn't. How could short, buxom, a-little-too-curvy me take the place of lithe, sultry Claudia?

"Gabrielle." The voice was low and throaty and unmistakably male. I turned around slowly to find Luke standing there.

I could only plaster a smile on my face as I looked up at all six feet five inches of him.

"If you have time tonight I think we should go over some of the scenes a few times."

"Yep," I managed.

"Seven works for you?"

"Mm-hmm."

Luke directed his gaze to Jan, nodding at me. "Chatty, isn't she?"

Jan shook her head, a glint in her eye. "Not really, no. But she does love onions."

Oh sweet Jesus. I closed my eyes and when I dared to open them again, Luke had walked away. I glared at my friend. She smiled.

"Let the show begin!"

"Again," Luke demanded. "Louder this time."

I groaned and rubbed at my throat. "No more, please."

He gave me a look, his strong features set with determination.

"Again."

I slumped my shoulders. He might be cute but he was about as fun as a math teacher. He stood across from me on the empty stage, his handsome features half-hidden in the dark of the theatre. His heavy brows were knitted together and a thin sheen of sweat dappled his brow. His t-shirt was damp against his chest, making it a little hard for me to focus on my lines.

"Gabrielle."

"Arite, arite," I muttered. "Can't we just take a break from the screaming?"

"Sure," he countered. "Let's move on to the kiss then."

My mouth went dry.

"Ahmm, I didn't mean... "

Quick as a flash he was standing in front of me. His face was serious but amusement lay somewhere in the depths of his deep brown eyes.

"Don't be nervous," he said with a lazy smile.

"Why would I be nervous?" I replied casually, terrified he could hear my heart pounding.

He held on to my shoulders, squeezing tight and pulling me closer, the way I had seen him do with Claudia at every rehearsal.

At this proximity, I could count every one of his eyelashes. I tried not to stare at his mouth, full and sculpted, with a sexy quirk at one corner.

"Remember, try to look like you hate this."

As if I could. He stared into my eyes for what seemed like eternity and then dipped his head, his lips hovering before mine for a fraction of a second before he kissed me.

Before I could stop myself, I opened my mouth and kissed him back eagerly, with complete abandon, my hands winding around his neck to drag him closer, my fingers playing along the smooth line of hair at the back of his neck, my body pressing against his in earnest. I felt his body stiffen in surprise and then his hands slipped from my shoulders to my waist, pulling me upward and against him. His mouth was sensual and warm, sharp with the taste of peppermint. No onions.

After a long, long moment, he dragged his lips away from mine, and took one, two steps backward. My mind felt hazy as I tried to figure out what had just happened.

Luke bent and picked up the script he had let fall to the floor. He scratched his head and ran a hand over his jaw. I waited, holding my breath.

"That's it," he said finally. "That's it for tonight."

I didn't need any further encouragement. I nodded, picked up my bag and walked out as fast as I could.

I couldn't blame him for wanting to get rid of me. I had forced myself on him and now he was embarrassed. Right?

A strong hand gripped my arm, stopping me in my tracks, and I turned around, ready to scream.

"Sorry," Luke said, giving me a sheepish smile. "But we forgot to go over one of the scenes."

I stared at him, the cool night wind making my skin rise in goose bumps. "Didn't we do all of them?"

He waved the script at me. "No, we forgot one."

I was utterly confused, "Your script must be different from mine," I said, reaching for the sheaf of papers in his hand. "Let me see... "

"Gabrielle, just come nuh?" he said with a growl, and pulled me into another kiss, this one more forceful and intense than the first. Desire lapped at my senses, and I clutched at him, needing no encouragement.

When he broke away, his eyes practically glowed with intent. He tugged at my hand as he pulled me back toward the empty theatre.

"Come with me, Mrs Edmonds."