“I get it, Stone.” Understanding was written all over her face.
She walked him to the corner of the park and out to Columbus Circle. After giving him detailed walking directions, she sent him on his way.
Probably for the best that he wasn’t going to visit her family. If her mother’s steak was any good, he’d likely do something stupid, like propose marriage on the spot. And if today had shown him anything, it was that Gina would never be happy with the kind of life he dreamed of having.
Eleven
The premiere snuck up on Stone. One day they were rehearsing, and the next they were hours away from the live broadcast. People kept asking if he was nervous, and then he felt weird fornotbeing nervous.
He wandered around backstage while Gina was in wardrobe for a last-minute costume adjustment. That wasn’t something he needed to be present for, not unless he wanted to watch Gina being sewn into the slinky purple sequined dress. The one that dipped down low between her breasts and hugged all her curves.
Nope, he didn’t need to be around for that.
He found Jackson backstage in the area where the cast gathered during the show. They called it the “Sparkle Parlor.” It looked like a drunk unicorn had projectile-vomited glitter all over the walls, but it was just so indicative of the show’s aesthetic, he couldn’t be mad at it.
Jackson paced in front of a large flatscreen TV withThe Dance Off’s logo floating around on it like a screensaver. He worked his mouth and jaw, stretching his lips wide and uttering strange humming sounds.
Stone approached slowly. “You all right there?” After growing up with Wolf, weird behavior didn’t faze him.
Jackson spun around, then hunched his shoulders when he saw Stone. “You caught me. I’m doing vocal exercises.”
“Planning to sing instead of dance?”
Jackson barked out a laugh. “You wish.” He rubbed his neck. “I do these before I go on stage, even if I’m not singing. They calm me down.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it.”
Stone headed back into the hallway, passing countless crew members dashing around with walkie-talkies and other random electronics.
Smelling smoke, he followed another corridor out to a loading dock, where he found Twyla Rhodes smoking a cigarette behind a giant metal dumpster. She already wore her costume for the night, a glittery black off-the-shoulder gown.
Twyla spared him a glance. “Oh, hey there, hot stuff. You want one?” She offered him the pack.
“No, thanks.”
“Good choice. It’s a nasty habit.” She took a long drag, let it out in a thin stream. “You’re the one who lives in the forest, right?”
He bit back a sigh. “That’s me.”
“Don’t suppose you know who I am?”
“Oh, I know. Even in the forest, we had a VCR and all the Elf Chronicles movies on VHS tape.” They hadn’t actually lived in Alaska then, but he left that part out.
Twyla paused with the cigarette an inch from her lips and sent him a big smile. “Always nice to meet a fan, even after all these years. That part never gets old.”
“I hear they’re making another sequel.”
“You hear a lot in that forest.”
“I hear a lot surrounded by a production crew full of nerds,” he returned smoothly.
“I would imagine so.” She chuckled. “And… maybe there will be a sequel. But you didn’t hear that from me.” She winked.
Another Elf Chronicles movie all but confirmed by Twyla Rhodes herself? His brothers and sisters were going to flip.
Twyla finished her cigarette and used it to light another one.
“Don’t judge me,” she said in a level tone. “It’s the only vice I have left, and there was a time when I did everything, and I do meaneverything.”
