“Later, Jude.” I lift my hand in a wave, determined to walk away before he offers to see me to the door. Behind me I hear him mutter something that sounds a lot like, “Sooner than you think, beautiful.”
God, if Jude turns out to be some stalker psycho, I am going to lose my shit. First Iron Maiden, now my lack of work. I can’t take another hit. I stick my key in the door and glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, he’s staring. Only, he doesn’t give off creepy vibes. No, the look in his eyes is one of unapologetic interest. The focus of his gaze is on my lower half. Yeah, he’s checking out my ass.
I’ve still got it.I sway my hips with an extra dose of confidence as I push into the apartment and lock the door. Music assaults my ears, along with the clatter of dishes.
“Hey, Rae!” Jenni pops her head beneath the upper cabinets that separate our small kitchen from the living area. She shimmies her hips and wields a big spoon in the other.
“Hey.”Is that pasta?The aroma of cooked tomatoes and spices fills my nostrils and my stomach grumbles. “You look happy.”
“I got the part!”
“That’s fantastic!” I don’t remember what role, because let’s face it, she goes on dozens of auditions, but I know from my own experience how exciting it is to get selected over others when it’s something you want so badly. “Congrats!”
“Thanks! I can’t wipe this smile off my face. You missed the happy dance and screaming.” She points her spoon at a boiling pot. “You hungry? I made too much.”
“I’d love some. Smells good.”
“Steady work for the next two weeks calls for celebration. It’ll be done in fifteen.” She turns back to the stove.
I pass by on my way to my bedroom, noting the usual absence of bodies. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Working, I think.”
I roll my traveling makeup cart into my corner of the bedroom, then ditch my clothes for cotton shorts and an old T-shirt. My phone is low on battery, so I plug it into my charger before heading back to the kitchen.
Jenni dishes out two plates of pasta and my mouth waters at the sight. She nods to the barstools and I join her after filling my water.
“Oh, my God.” The first bite hits my taste buds with a burst of pleasure. I don’t stop chewing as I turn to Jenni and convey my appreciation. “You made this? It’s so good.”
She twists noodles around her fork with a smile. “Yeah? Not bad, right? My grandma taught me. I can make, like, this and two other things.”
“I would eat this every day.”
She laughs and nods. “Right? If I could get away with the carbs, this is all I’d ever want. But I felt like celebrating.” Jenni is a stick. Her figure is that of actual movie stars, which does not come easy. I’ve seen the extreme diet and exercise most of my roommates abide by. No, thank you. I’ll happily take my curves and carbs.
I swallow another bite, then force myself to slow down to make the meal last longer. “Tell me about the role.”
“It’s a cheesy teen romance mini-series and I’m the mean girl!” Jenni turns her chair and flips her hair over one shoulder with a contagious smile. “I have lines.Plural.It’s being produced by Terrance Underwood.And the best part?They need me on set for an entire month. I’ve never been more excited to be a raging bitch.”
“That’s amazing.”
“And if it gets picked up for another season?” She laughs, shaking her head. “God! I can’t even start to think what that could mean for my career. I’ve literally been waiting for something like this. Some kind of reassurance I’m not wasting my life on a stupid dream, you know?”
I swallow down my last bite of pasta. Yeah. I know exactly what she means. Only, this woman before me is twenty-two with her entire future ahead of her, with years to figure things out. She has time to give. I’m almost thirty without a home, job, or working vehicle. Am I wasting my time? Fooling myself? I mean, this isn’t all I want out of life. Someday, I want a family. A husband and a couple of children. By pursuing my pipe dream of a career, am I giving up on everything I’ll later regret? I shake off the defeatist thoughts. Thinking like that will get me nowhere.
I am happy for my nicest roommate. But damn, I sure could use a sign myself. I stand from the barstool and take my dish to the sink. A few dirty saucepans litter the stove top. “I’ll clean up.”
“Oh, you don’t have to.” Jenni practically skips to my side, setting her plate atop mine in the sink. She moves to my right as I start to scrub and rinse the dishes, holding out her hand with a clean dishtowel in the other. “Here. I’ll dry.”
We work in companionable silence, music from her small speaker filling the space. This is the most time I’ve spent with Jenni, or any of my roommates. It reminds me of living back in Chicago. Dinners with my brother and his husband, or at Mia and Matt’s. Back when my friends were a train stop away. Where there was always an ear to listen, a shoulder to lean on, a girlfriend to grab drinks with. I’ve been so consumed with working in the three months I’ve been here, I never allow myself to realize just how lonely I am. Rinsing the last suds off a final dish, I swallow back the urge to cry.
“Hey, so like, I know you’re probably busy, but maybe would you want to go out and celebrate with me this weekend?” Jenni takes the dish from my hand to dry. If she notices me blinking back tears of homesickness, she doesn’t let on. “I’m getting together with some friends Saturday night. We’re gonna hit up a club. Have a few drinks. Nothing crazy or anything, just a good time.”
I open my mouth to answer, but realize if I try to talk I’ll probably cry. I haven’t been asked to go out with any of my roommates since moving here. Not socially. Once they discovered I did professional makeup I was invited to help them get ready, or hired for a few small gigs. But this, this is just Jenni being kind because she wants to.
She must read my hesitation as disinterest. “I know you work a lot, and like, my friends are way younger so I totally understand if you don’t want to hang with us, or it’s not your—.”
“No,” I interrupt. “I would love to go out. Thank you for asking.”
