Always been You Page 3

  She opened her mouth to protest, but his arched brow and crossed arms made her roll her eyes instead. "You're such a little bitch sometimes," she laughed.

  "This is not news. How do I look? On second thought, I already know I'm fabulous. Come on, let's go get our seats." He hooked his arm through hers and off they went.

  Maggie felt her heart race a little when she spotted the boy she'd had such a crush on a decade ago and felt ridiculous. She was a grown woman now, not some silly sixteen-year-old. Alisha had told her he was still boyishly good-looking, and Maggie had to agree as she politely skirted past other patrons in row twelve to get to her seat that had her right next to James. She was nearly to her seat when Russell gave her a little shove and she went flying right into James Keller's lap. "Oh my God! I'm—I'm so sorry," she sputtered, wanting to kill her friend for humiliating her. She looked up into James's puppy dog eyes and felt her face flame scarlet as the feelings she'd had at sixteen came flooding back.

  "Are you okay?" James asked, his hands at her waist, steadying her.

  "I'm fine," she smiled kindly at him. "My friend here must've tripped," she told him, flashing a quick, murderous glance in Russell's direction. "He's clumsy like that."

  "Sorry," Russell said in a sing-song voice, fluttering his fingers at them.

  Big watched, perplexed, as the scene unfolded before him. That blonde was hot and currently making goo-goo eyes at his best friend, and if he wasn't mistaken, her little gay friend was also.

  "I'm Maggie," she said, offering her hand and getting to her seat. "Maggie Louwer."

  James shook her hand and smiled. "I'm—"

  "James Keller," she finished for him. "I know."

  He studied her, confused for a moment before it dawned on him. "Oh, you're Alisha's friend!"

  "Yes," she smiled again.

  "Who's Alisha?" Annie Keller inquired, leaning forward in her seat.

  "She's this girl that Big rescued the other day from a fire. She got us these tickets."

  "Did she now?" Rosemary Biggerman asked, shooting her son a heated look. "I thought you said you bought these tickets, Jake."

  Big gave James a thanks a fucking lot look and smiled sheepishly at his mother. "You assumed I bought them, I didn't correct you. We're here, Ma, what does it matter?"

  Rosemary opened her mouth to give her son a piece of her mind, but Maggie intervened. "Thank you for pulling our friend to safety. We've been giving her a hard time about it ever since."

  He gave her a grateful smile and shrugged his shoulders. "No big deal," he said, wondering how in the hell this night got so weird so fast. He slanted a look at his mother who was now smiling proudly at him. He fought the urge to roll his eyes at her total one-eighty, knowing that even though he was twenty-eight and they were in a theater full of people, she wouldn't hesitate to slap him upside the head.

  "How do you know James?" Annie asked Maggie.

  Maggie blushed, but smiled politely and told them the abridged version of her crush and how they'd gone to rival schools in New York.

  "And where is this Alisha that you saved, Jake?" Rosemary asked.

  "Oh, she's in the show," Maggie said proudly.

  "Really? My Jake saved a Broadway star?"

  "Ma, stop. She's just in the chorus," he muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

  Maggie snorted and exchanged amused glances with Russell. "Is that what she told you?"

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Big asked, his brows knitting together.

  The house lights dimmed, and the music started. "You'll see," Maggie grinned. She settled back into her seat and her arm brushed against James's. She looked over and he smiled at her. Awkward meeting aside, she was glad for this strange twist of fate.

  Big scowled and folded his arms around his chest. He hoped this show didn't last that long. He wasn't in the mood to listen to show tunes all fucking night.

  The theater was shrouded in darkness as the jazzy intro started. The lights went up on stage and a group of dancers appeared, moving along to the beat. He saw a woman with a short dark bob and a killer pair of legs rise out of the floor dressed in a skimpy black outfit that was akin to tasteful lingerie, replete with fishnet stockings. Really all of the actors on stage were dressed like that, and he thought that maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. She lifted her head and sauntered down the stairs, flanked by the dancers. He cocked his head to the side and stared closely at her. Fucking hell. Was that—Alisha?

  Maggie glanced over and saw the dumbfounded expression on Big's face and nudged Russell. They exchanged another amused glance. "Just wait until he hears her sing," Russell said, smirking.

  C'mon babe

  Why don't we paint the town?

  And all that jazz

  I'm gonna rouge my knees

  And roll my stockings down

  And all that jazz

  Big felt as though someone had whacked him upside the head with damn two-by-four. Her voice was clear, but sultry, and the slow, seductive way she was moving on stage was—sexy as hell.

  Start the car

  I know a whoopee spot

  Where the gin is cold

  But the piano's hot

  It's just a noisy hall

  Where there's a nightly brawl

  And all that jazz!

  The lyrics stopped registering the moment she started crawling backwards on stage, her legs going on for miles. And later when she did the splits in that tiny excuse for a costume without missing a beat, all the blood drained out of his head and swam south. He was pretty sure he was on the verge of drooling as he watched her, completely transfixed.

  The music ramped up, as did the dancing when he saw her take center stage and she belted out the last few bars of the song.

  No, I'm no one's wife

  But, oh, I love my life

  And all

  That

  Jazz!

  That jazz!

  Darkness fell on the stage again, as a roaring applause broke out around him. James nudged him, shaking him from the dirty fantasies in his head involving one Alisha Larrington and some fishnets. He looked around and started clapping with everyone else.

  So much for being a chorus girl. Dammit, he felt like a fucking idiot. He'd insulted her, and she hadn't bothered correcting him. He supposed this was a much better way to prove her point. And fuck if she hadn't proven it, like, a trillion-fold.

  "Looks like that fireman is a little hot under the collar for our girl," Russell whispered to Maggie, who nodded in agreement.

  "We should arrange for them to talk after the show. She needs to get back out there," Maggie whispered back, smiling wickedly.

  "I do love it when you plot, M," Russell grinned, hazarding another glance at the hot fireman down the row—make that hot firemen.

  "Jake, is that the girl you rescued?" Rosemary whispered to her son.

  Jesus. "Yes," he muttered, keeping his eyes on the stage.

  "Oh, my—she's very talented, isn't she? I wonder if she's Jewish." She turned her own eyes back to the stage as the next number began.

  Big wanted to shove a screwdriver into his temple. This night was taking a turn towards The Twilight Zone and he was over it. He just wanted everyone to shut the fuck up, so he could go back to watching the scantily clad girls dancing and not worry about the grand fantasies his mother was surely spinning in her head.

  He didn't see Alisha again for a few numbers, but that Roxie chick was pretty hot, too, so he had very few complaints.

  Alisha appeared again with the five other "merry murderesses" and he really enjoyed watching her dance and sway against those prison bars. Goddamn, musical theater wasn't supposed to be sexy, was it? But she was—even if the song was about these chicks going crazy murdering the men who'd done 'em wrong. Alisha had a killer set of pipes to go with the killer legs—and she looked hot in the wig, too.

  He damn sure didn't want a girlfriend. He didn't do girlfriends. But he thought that maybe he could ta
lk her into tearing up the sheets with him for a night. Sure, she seemed a little crazy from the two interactions he'd had with her, but she was hot. And that trumped crazy. He'd already seen the evidence of her flexibility, and just the thought of all the dirty things they could do to one another kept him entertained until intermission.

  After the show was over, the group stood around in the lobby while James and Maggie chatted and exchanged numbers and Big half-assed listened to the conversation taking place between his mother, Annie and Russell. They were gushing over the show and the fact that he and Maggie had known Alisha forever. His ears perked up when Russell asked, "Do you want an introduction?"

  "Oh—are you sure it's not too much trouble?" Rosemary asked hopefully.

  "Of course not," Russell waved off. "Let me go and grab her."

  "Did you enjoy the show?" Big asked his mother knowingly.

  "Yes! It was fabulous. Thank you so much for bringing us. Though, I cannot believe you kept the fact that you knew the star of the show from me, Jake."

  And this right here? This is why he usually kept his damn mouth shut. "I didn't know she was the star and I don't really know her," he pointed out, though it wasn't enough to placate her.

  "Then why did she give you free tickets?"

  "Because I asked her for them. Jesus." The withering glare made him flinch and look away awkwardly. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to study the poster on the wall as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

  "Knock, knock," Russell called, breezing into the dressing room like he owned the place.

  "Hi," Alisha beamed, zipping up her blue hoodie. "What are you doing back here?"

  Russell eyed her sweatshirt and makeup-free skin with disdain and crinkled his nose. "Is that what you're wearing?"

  Alisha looked down at her sweatshirt and jeans and then lifted her eyes to her friend. "Evidently—as these are the clothes currently on my body," she clipped tartly.

  "Meow! Retract the claws, kitty. There are some fans outside that want to meet you. Namely a hot, hot fireman that you got tickets for. How come you didn't mention how sexy that man is?"

  "Is he?" Alisha asked, feigning ignorance and combing her fingers through her hair trying to tug out the tangles from wearing her wig.

  "You're not on stage anymore, you can quit acting," Russell said. He spotted her purse and snatched it off the counter, rifling through it for the makeup bag he knew she kept in there.

  "Excuse me, rude much?" Alisha said, trying to wrestle it free from his grasp.

  "Look, Maggie's out there chatting up James, and Big's out there with his mother and James's mother and they all want to tell you how fabulous you are. I know you like hearing that." He swept the blush across her cheeks, hissing when she slapped his hand.

  "Russell! What are you doing?"

  "Prettying you up, doll baby! As naturally lovely as you are, I would not be a good friend if I let you go out there without a stitch of makeup."

  Alisha sighed. It wasn't a battle she wanted to fight. "I'm too tired to argue with you."

  "That's my girl," he smiled victoriously, patting her on the shoulder. He pulled out the rest of her makeup and went to work. "He seemed rather floored, you know."

  "Who?"

  Russell rolled his eyes dramatically. "Who? You know good and well, who, Alisha Larrington. That sex-on-a-stick fireman who thought you were just a chorus girl. He seemed rather gob smacked when you came on stage as the star."

  She smiled smugly then. A part of her had wanted to stick it to him and she was happy to learn she'd knocked him down a peg or two. "Good," she giggled.

  Russell worked quickly and a few minutes and one more heated argument about the sweatshirt later, the duo exited the dressing room.

  "I still say you should ditch the sweatshirt. It's not sophisticated," he whined as they approached the group.

  "Shut up about the damn sweatshirt already. Seriously. I wasn't aware I was entertaining the queen after the show. Christ almighty, Russell."

  The lobby was nearly empty, so she quickly spotted the group. Her palms went damp when she spotted Big smiling down at the woman she assumed was his mother. God, he was good looking—even from his profile. Her fingers itched to run along his jaw line and she mentally slapped herself. Guys who looked and acted like he did were nothing but trouble and trouble was the last thing she wanted or needed.

  "Here's our little starlet," Russell said merrily.

  Alisha's cheeks flushed hot and she made a mental note later to slap him. But she smiled as five pairs of eyes all turned her direction. Maggie must have sensed her unease because she walked over and kissed her cheek, wrapping her in a tight hug. "Great show, Lisha!" She flashed a grateful smile at her best friend. "Thanks."

  "You really were terrific," James chimed in, flashing a kind, dimpled grin. He was as cute as a basket full of puppies.

  "Thank you," she politely replied. She felt Big's eyes on her and she turned. The sexy smirk on his face was offset by the mischievous gleam dancing around in those hazel eyes of his. She wasn't sure what that look meant, but it was wholly unnerving. There wasn't time to even give it a second thought though, since the mothers in the group quickly approached, happy grins plastered on their faces. "Hello," she greeted kindly. "I'm Alisha."

  "Oh, sweetie, you were just truly spectacular on stage," Rosemary gushed, while Annie nodded enthusiastically in agreement. "I'm Rosemary Biggerman." She gripped Alisha's hand tightly and shook it vigorously. "And this is Annie Keller. We're the mothers of these two handsome men."

  Alisha smiled genuinely then. It was clear that they both loved their sons deeply and the mental image she got of Rosemary going off on her son in a Jewish rant had her biting back a laugh. "It's very nice to meet the both of you. I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

  "I understand that you grew up in Findlay," Annie said.

  "I did," Alisha nodded. "Small world, isn't it?" She slanted a quick look at Big who looked on, embarrassed at what his mother might say.

  "Absolutely," Rosemary agreed. "I also understand that my Jake helped you in a fire not too long ago."

  My Jake. Rosemary reminded her so much of her grandmother just then. She glanced at him and he was looking back smugly at her. "He did—due to my own stupidity, I'm afraid. I ran in after my neighbor's cat. My Jewish guilt just got the better of me, I guess." There. Take that. His expression soured when his mother's face lit up like the Fourth of July and Alisha wanted to laugh so badly.

  "What is she doing?" Russell whispered to Maggie, who merely shrugged and went back to talking to James.

  "You're Jewish?" Rosemary asked, clasping her hands together.

  "Mmm hmm," Alisha hummed, biting the inside of her lip. She smiled at Big who was shooting daggers at her.

  "We're Jewish, too," Rosemary said proudly.

  "Well, this is a small world. Two New York Jews in New York City." Alisha could practically see the wheels turning in Rosemary Biggerman's head and it was hilarious. She looked over and smiled wickedly at Big.

  Big stared heatedly at her, the muscles in his jaw twitching. Turns out that Alisha Larrington? Is evil incarnate. The score was now Alisha: 2, Big: 0. Damn woman. He was thinking of ways to extract payback when his mother opened her mouth and said:

  "Did you know that my Jake is a musician?"

  Alisha raised her eyebrows in surprise and looked over at him. "No, I had no idea."

  "He's very talented. He and James have a band."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah," James nodded. "We're Fire Extinguishers," he said happily.

  Big sighed and shook his head. He still can't believe he went along with that name. Alisha's face lit up and she laughed, big and bright, just like she had at the station the other day. It was a good laugh.

  "Hilarious," she said, flashing him a toothy grin, her laughter slowly subsiding. "What kind of music do you play?"

  "Covers," Big shrugged. "It's not our livelihood—we just
like to play."

  "You should go see them sometime," Annie suggested.

  "Oh, yes, you must," Rosemary agreed.

  "Maybe we will," Alisha said, casting a quick look at Maggie and Russell, before looking at Big who was curiously studying her.

  "We've taken up enough of your time, Alisha. It was so nice meeting you and seeing you perform tonight. Utterly amazing!" Rosemary Biggerman gushed.

  "Thank you, Rosemary. It was lovely meeting you. You, too, Annie," she smiled.

  "We're going to go back to our hotel," Rosemary informed her son, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. "What a lovely Jewish girl, Jake. You should go out with her," she whispered into his ear. She gave him a pointed look and waited on Annie who was hugging James goodbye.

  After their mothers strolled away, Big folded his arms over his chest and smirked at Alisha. "Well played."

  Alisha arched a brow and smirked back. "Thank you."

  "So, in addition to rushing into burning buildings and having a killer set of pipes, it turns out you're kind of evil."

  She smiled wickedly. "I think your mother is already planning our wedding."

  Big laughed in spite of himself, because he knew that is exactly what his mother was doing. "Already engaged and I haven't even seen you naked. What a shame," he said, leering down at her.

  Alisha rolled her eyes and turned to Maggie and Russell. "I'm leaving. Thanks for coming to the show," she said to her friends and James and waved. Big grabbed her arm and stopped her. "What?" she asked with disinterested sigh, even though her arm was now electrically charged.

  "Thanks for the tickets," he told her.

  "Don't mention it." She tugged her arm free and looked over at Maggie. "See you at home," she called, and turned and walked briskly for the exit.

  What the fuck just happened?

  Chapter 4

  Alisha was tucked into a crowded corner of her favorite deli Wednesday afternoon enjoying her free day and looking forward to devouring the enormous pastrami sandwich as soon as her number was called. She'd had a productive morning so far—her laundry as well as Maggie's (despite her friend's protests that it wasn't necessary) was washed, folded and put away, the apartment shone like a new penny, and she'd had her ass kicked up and down Crunch Gym by her sadistic trainer. Hilda would absolutely not approve of the calories she was about to consume, but that's why she worked out (and why she lied her face off about her diet). If she had to live off of nothing but tree bark and berries, she'd be murderous inside of a week. She flipped open her battered copy of Pride and Prejudice and read while she waited.