Tom went back to the lighting booth and dimmed the house lights. He propped his feet on the seat in front of us and told the guys to start reading. Within minutes I began to appreciate the brilliant way Tom had cast the play. He combined the men with their roles perfectly.
The smallish man had been assigned the role of a nervous, mediocre high school principal. The drunk was played by the nice looking guy who very much looked like he had been type-cast and the two overweight dudes were competing lawyers in the small town where the play was set. It wasn't until the 'coach' opened his mouth that I knew why he'd been chosen for his role.
When he was introduced to me, Tristan had spoken in a deep appealing voice that was smooth and sexy--the kind of voice that almost should have had a foreign accent. When he took on the role of the coach, it was like another man was speaking. He applied a gravely texture and a heavy southern drawl that altered his tone completely. That alone was an impressive talent.
By the end of the reading I had almost forgotten that these actors were all men in their late twenties and early thirties and not in fact four middle aged ball players and their old coach. I never really took the time to go and see productions by the Mahkeenac Little Theater and now I had reason to regret that. These guys were good.
At the end of the read through, Tom kicked the house lights on again and we joined the men on stage so that Tom could do his directing and I could take notes. I was astounded at Tom's attention to detail. I sat at Tristan's right hand with my back to the theater. I was just near enough to him to catch the clean scent of his faded aftershave. I had the urge to pull him closer so I could smell him properly.
I noticed that I was right about the hands. He held his script with one perfect set of fingers and grasped a Mont Blanc pen with the other, ready to make notes. The hands looked very much like they could make magic on a girl's body if the situation arose. My pulse kicked up at the image and I had to pull myself back. A literature major has a fertile imagination, almost by definition. Mine was threatening to run away with me. I turned back to listen to what Tom was saying to the players.
"Richard, I need you to ratchet the ego up a little in the first act. It'll make it that much more of an impact when you find out Daniel is fucking your wife. Cole, you're the seediest of all in this seedy bunch. Try to be a little slimier. Ooooze some more." He looked at his notes. "Tristan, I love the voice, but I think you need to take the Southern accent down a notch. I know where you're coming from with that, but the coach has a lot of things going on--we don't want to make him a caricature."
"Sure thing, Tom," Tristan answered in his normal silky bass. "I can rein that in a bit." He looked from Tom to me and caught me staring at him. I started furiously marking my script with…nonsense, really but I needed a distraction.
"Okay, guys. Off book by Friday night's walk through. I'll start blocking tomorrow night."
The smallish man, Brian, groaned at the schedule. "That's an awful lot of lines to master in five days, Tom."
"Oh quit belly aching! You've got nothing to do all week but count your money." They all laughed. "By the way guys…I'm going to need as much advance notice as possible if anyone needs to miss a rehearsal. I know I can't hope for 100% attendance, but an ensemble play like this really requires everyone at every rehearsal."
"Tom," said Tristan, "I warned you when I accepted the role that I'd miss some rehearsals. I nearly didn't make it today."
"Yeah, Tom. The 'star' warned you," said Daniel.
"Gotta work around the 'King', now don't we?"
Tristan held up his right fist next to his face and slowly uncurled his middle finger, flipping them off. "Gentlemen, I hope it won't be too hard to carry on without me. Those of us with successful firms tend to actually work at it."
There were hoots and some good natured "fuck you", "in your dreams", "kiss my ass" comments.
"Raina's here to fill in when Tristan or anyone else can't make it. I can't wait to see her stand in for Daniel…or Tristan." Tom said and gave me a wink. "You'd make a great angry old man."
Laughing at that, we all rose noisily rose from the table, all clattering chairs and chattering men. I watched Tristan sling his jacket and tie over his arm and take the steps down from the stage on his long legs by two's. I wondered where he was hurrying to as he flung a "G'night" back over his shoulder and loped up the aisle to the front exit. I had him undressed down to his underwear before he hit the door. I decided he was a silk boxer kind of guy just as his ass vanished from my sight.
***
Jenn was all but asleep on the couch by the time I got home. I had stopped at the grocery store for a bottle of wine on the way home because I thought I might need a glass or two to help me get to sleep. I recalled from my waitressing stints that it's hard to just get off work and go to sleep. A person needs some time to wind down. But it was more than that this time.
Tristan King had already barged on to the center stage of my brain and refused to give up the limelight. I had spent the short ride back to our duplex speculating about him. There was no ring on his shapely finger, but in this day and age that's pretty meaningless.
Tom had given me a brief rundown on the cast in general: investment hot shots summering in the Berkshires. That's about all I knew about any of them except that one of them had captured my attention in a way that took me by surprise. I couldn't quite sort it out. I didn't know the man at all. I had very little on which to base my feelings. But there was a feeling.
I wasn't kidding myself. A Brooklynite girl with a liberal arts degree from an obscure New England school, mostly untraveled, solidly middle-class roots--someone like me wasn't going to attract a man like Tristan King. In spite of that, fantasies are better with a 'real' human being populating them. My vibrator and I had just about worn out Hugh, Ryan, Johnny and Ben. For the next seven weeks, at least, I'd just found my new 'sexiest man alive'. I thought that would make a much better choice than a 'star'.
I opened the wine and reached for a glass above the sink. "Hey Jenn, glass of wine?" I called into the living room.
"No," she sat up and yawned. "I went out with Isabel and Cally after work. God, it was so nice to have a slow dinner out like normal people."
"I know. I ate a ham sandwich right before rehearsal. Now I'm starving again." I sat down in the ratty recliner next to the couch. "I really think I'm going to enjoy the job, though."