There She Goes

Book 0: The Theatreland Series

by Lynne Shelby

Genres: Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

When aspiring actress Julie Farrell meets actor Zac Diaz, she is instantly attracted to him, but he shows no interest in her. Julie, who has yet to land her first professional acting role, can?t help wishing that her life was more like a musical, and that she could meet a handsome man who?d sweep her into his arms and tap-dance her along the street? After early success on the stage, Zac has spent the last three years in Hollywood, but has failed to forge a film career. Now back in London, he is determined to re-establish himself as a theatre actor. Focused solely on his work, he has no time for distractions, and certainly no intention of getting entangled in a committed relationship? Auditioning for a new West End show, Julie and Zac act out a love scene, but will they ever share more than a stage kiss?

Release date: June 6, 2019

Publisher: Accent Press

Print pages: 263

Sample

CHAPTER 1

On shaking legs, I took one step and then another, until I was standing directly in front of the guy. His mouth lifted in a smile, and he put his arms around me, holding me close against his hard chest. My heart started beating so furiously that I felt sure he must be able to hear it. Telling myself firmly that I could do this, that it wasn’t as if it were the first time, I tilted up my face and looked directly into his eyes. He bent his head and kissed me on the mouth, softly at first, just a brush of his lips, but then more firmly, his hands moving smoothly down my back to settle on my hips.

When we came up for air, he led me to the bed and drew me down beside him. We lay facing each other on the bare mattress, our bodies pressed together, and kissed for a long time. I tried, unsuccessfully, to remember his name.

I thought, there can be few professions apart from the obvious that require you to simulate desire for a stranger on a regular basis.

The director said, ‘Cut.’

The guy stopped kissing me, and we both sat up. While the director conferred with his assistant, who’d videoed our audition, I stole a glance at my fellow actor’s profile. He was a few years older than me, I thought, in his mid-to late-twenties, and extraordinarily good-looking, with his dark hair falling over his forehead and just the right amount of stubble on his tanned face. I wondered if he might be Italian, or maybe Spanish.

‘We’ve got all we need for today,’ the director said. ‘Thank you.’

The guy (what was his name?) got off the bed and said, ‘Thank you. Good to have met you.’

I swung my legs over the side of the mattress and stood up. I tried to think of something, anything, to say that might persuade the director to cast me, but decided that throwing myself at his feet and begging (please, please, please, give me the job. I’m an out of work actress, and my rent’s due next week) would be unprofessional. The dark-haired actor was already heading towards the door of the studio, so I echoed his ‘thank you’, snatched up my bag and coat, and hurried after him.

We’d just stepped out into the corridor when the director’s voice drifted after us quite clearly: ‘Like watching paint dry. Absolutely no sexual chemistry between those two.’ Seriously? At nine a.m. in a cold studio, it hadn’t been easy to act like a girl and boy madly in love – or in lust, as the director had put it – but until that moment, I’d thought the dark-haired guy and I had done pretty well. Apparently, I was mistaken.

The guy shut the door and rolled his eyes. I followed him across the reception area, where a crowd of actors were still waiting to audition, and out into the car park.

‘No chemistry?’ he said. ‘The man’s an idiot. You and I were on fire in there. We nearly set the bed alight.’

I couldn’t help laughing. ‘I’m so glad you said that. I thought we did a good job too.’

‘Directors. What do they know?’ He grinned, a flash of white teeth. I smiled up at him, noticing that his eyes were so dark they were almost black, and that he had a small white scar on the underside of his jaw. In the studio, the only thing on my mind had been to turn in a convincing performance that would get me cast, but now I found myself wondering what it would be like to kiss him again, and not in front of a camera. I became aware of a delectable warmth low in my stomach.

He said, ‘See you around, Julie.’

‘Ye-es,’ I said. ‘See you.’

I watched him as he strode over to a large silver car and drove off, leaving me alone and feeling strangely empty. He’d put his arms around me and kissed me and lain next to me on a bed – and I’d most likely never see him again.

Shivering at a sudden gust of wind, I told myself to get a grip, and started walking towards the tube station. Yes, I’d shared a kiss with an attractive man, something I’d not done in too long a while, but it was a stage kiss and nothing more. I didn’t even know his name.

***

Zac edged the car slowly through the mid-morning traffic, turning the heater to high. That was one thing he’d miss about California – the constant sunshine. He’d forgotten how cold and dismal London could be at this time of year, the trees still bare of leaves, the sky permanently grey. He reminded himself why he’d returned. However hard it was to start again, he was sure he’d made the right decision. Even if it meant he had to grovel in front of idiots like that pretentious fool of a director. Not that this morning’s audition was the worst he’d ever been to. He smiled ruefully – at least no one had asked him to take off his shirt.

Although the lights at the next junction were green, the traffic ground to a halt. Zac drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. His mind wandered back to the audition. It certainly hadn’t been a hardship to improvise a scene with Julie Farrell. Like so many of the young actresses he’d encountered in LA, she was stunning: her body slender and her hair long and dark. It occurred to him that only a few weeks ago he wouldn’t have walked away from her before he’d invited her for a coffee, or they’d at least swapped cell numbers. He congratulated himself on his restraint. He was, he told himself, back in London to focus solely on his work. He couldn’t afford any distractions.

CHAPTER 2

I stood outside the staff entrance to Club Zone, in an alleyway not far from Leicester Square, and willed myself to go inside. I could, I supposed, just walk away and never go back, but there was that matter of my rent, and my need to eat – and pay the fees for the occasional acting workshop or singing lesson or dance class so that I didn’t forget everything I’d learnt at drama school. Squaring my shoulders, I went into the club.

In the staffroom, amongst the waiters and bartenders who’d yet to start their evening shift, I spotted three of my colleagues on the six-strong promotions team, sitting in a circle of armchairs around a low table, on which were six untidy piles of advertising flyers and a number of Styrofoam coffee cups. I went and sat down next to my partner on the team, Laurie Fryer, whose head was bent over a dog-eared paperback copy of Othello. Opposite us, Nadia Pincher, was flicking through a glossy magazine. Her partner, Ben Locke, was lounging next to her, eyes shut, his foot tapping out the beat of whatever music he was listening to on his phone.

‘Hey, Julie.’ Laurie’s amiable face broke into a smile, and he slipped the play into his jacket pocket. Ben opened his eyes, nodded at me, and shut them again. Nadia didn’t bother to acknowledge my arrival.

They all left drama school several years before I did, I thought. They’ve acted professionally in theatre or on TV, but they can’t afford to give up the day job. In two or three years’ time, I still could be here, still working as a promo girl, still waiting for my proverbial big break. With a mental shudder, I pushed the thought away.

Laurie said, ‘How did your audition go today?’

‘You went to an audition?’ Nadia’s head jerked up from her magazine. ‘What was it for?’

‘A TV advert. For toothpaste, I think,’ I said, reliving the moment the dark-haired actor’s eyes had locked on mine, and the way he’d smiled as he’d leaned in to kiss me. Again, I reminded myself that he’d been acting.

Nadia leant forward in her chair. ‘Did you get the job?’

‘No, I didn’t get the job,’ I said. ‘I thought the audition went well. The director disagreed.’

‘Never mind, lovely.’ Laurie’s hand rested briefly on my arm. ‘It’s not like your life’s ambition is to act in TV commercials.’

‘I don’t know why someone who wants to perform in musicals would even bother to go to that sort of casting,’ Nadia said, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder.

‘I’ll take whatever acting work I can get,’ I said. ‘I need to get a professional credit on my CV.’

‘Well, I think it’s very brave of you to put yourself out there,’ Nadia said. ‘It’s not as though you stand much chance of landing an acting role when you’re competing against straight actors like me – or even Laurie. All that singing and dancing you musical theatre people do – it doesn’t really leave you much time to learn how to act, does it?’

Not for the first time in the six weeks I’d been working at Zone, I tried to decide whether Nadia actually meant to be so obnoxious, or if she merely lacked any social skills.

‘It’s called the triple threat, Nadia,’ Laurie said. ‘I’d have thought you’d have known that.’

Nadia ignored him, her attention caught by another girl, very tall and thin, who was standing by the coffee machine. I’d not seen the girl in the staffroom before, but apparently Nadia knew her, as she leapt out of her seat and ran across the room. Drawing the tall girl into a far corner, she began an intense, whispered conversation, accompanied by a great deal of affected laughter.

‘It’s extraordinary.’ Laurie shook his head as though to clear it. ‘I’ve known that woman since drama school, but she still manages to astound me.’

Ben took his earphones out of his ears and looked from me to Laurie and back again. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nadia,’ I said.

‘Ah,’ Ben said.

‘I don’t know how you stand partnering her night after night,’ I said, ‘I really don’t.’ Realising that my hands were clenched into fists, I made myself relax.

Ben shrugged. ‘Oh, I never listen to a word she says. I just let her witter on and grunt occasionally in reply.’

‘Don’t let her get to you, Julie,’ Laurie said. He raised his arm to wave at Cora Woodville and Harry Vincent, the other two members of the promotions team, who’d just entered the staffroom. They joined us, both of them looking at me enquiringly.

‘So how did it go today?’ Harry said. I decided that next time I had an audition, I’d keep it to myself.

‘I didn’t get the job,’ I said.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry, hun,’ Cora said.

‘It was only a toothpaste commercial,’ I said. ‘Although the way the director went on about the characters’ motivation, you’d think it was an audition for Hamlet at the National.’

Cora laughed. ‘I’ve been to auditions like that,’ she said, ‘and then when you see the advert on TV, the actors are just doing their hoovering or cooking fish fingers.’

Harry said, ‘Who’s that gorgeous girl Nadia’s talking to?’

‘Her name’s Esse,’ Laurie said. ‘She’s just started working in the restaurant, but she also does a bit of modelling. Her boyfriend is a casting agent. Obviously that has nothing to do with why Nadia has decided to be her new best friend.’

‘And you know all this how?’ Cora said.

‘If you want to be a successful actor,’ Laurie said. ‘You have to be good at networking.’

At that moment, Austin Fleming, Head of Promotions and Events at Club Zone – at my job interview, he’d informed me of his title in a tone that made it very clear he was extremely proud of it – put his head round the staffroom door. When he saw me and the others relaxing in easy chairs, his pale eyebrows drew together in a frown. He held out a skinny wrist and tapped his watch. Everyone on the promotions team hastily drained their coffee, collected up coats and bunches of flyers, and trooped out into the cold and dark.

While Nadia and Ben stayed in Leicester Square, Harry and Cora headed off to the Covent Garden piazza, and Laurie and I made our way to our favourite hunting ground: Piccadilly Circus. Even on a week night in February, the place was swarming with the tourists and sundry revellers who were our prey, some posing for selfies on the steps that surround the statue of Eros, others watching the street performers who vied for their attention and their spare change against a backdrop of illuminated advertising signs and double-decker buses.

Laurie stepped into the path of two girls, one tall, one petite, both wearing biker jackets, very high platform shoes and very short skirts. They must be so cold dressed like that, I thought. I was freezing, and I was wearing a parka, a hat, gloves – fingerless so I could hold my flyers – two jumpers, jeans and fur-lined boots.

‘Your shoes – I adore them,’ Laurie said. ‘Totally to die for. Here, let me give you a couple of flyers for Club Zone. Hand them in to any of the bar staff and your first drink is free.’

‘Do you get footballers coming in your club?’ the taller girl said.

‘All the time,’ Laurie said.

The girls happily relieved him of two of his flyers, and tottered away.

‘Your turn, Julie,’ Laurie said. ‘I’ll count you in. From the top – five, six, seven eight.’ Fixing a smile on my face, I held out a flyer to a besuited, twenty-something man who looked as though he might be in need of a beer after a hard day in front of a computer screen.

‘Hi, there,’ I said, brightly. ‘Would you like a Club Zone flyer?’

Twenty-something Man leered at me. ‘I’ll take a flyer if you write your phone number on it’

‘Seriously?’ I said. ‘Do you really expect me to give out my phone number to a total stranger?’

‘You can’t blame a guy for trying.’ Twenty-something Man took the flyer anyway, and walked off in the direction of the club.

Laurie roared with laughter. ‘Your face, Julie.’

I shot him a look. ‘Have I ever told you how much I love this job?’

Three years training in acting, singing and dancing, I thought, and I’m earning my living by handing out flyers and being hit on in the street.

CHAPTER 3

I arrived home from work after midnight, cold and tired, and wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed. Then, as I trudged up the stairs that led from the front door to the landing, I heard voices coming from the other end of the flat: the cut-glass accent of my best friend and flatmate, Alexa Hamilton-Jones, and a deeper, male voice. For a moment, I thought Alexa’s ex-boyfriend was back on the scene, but on second thoughts, given the decisive way she’d ended the relationship – ‘It was all getting too much, Julie, he wanted me to meet his parents…’ – this seemed unlikely.

Curiosity overcoming exhaustion, I tossed my bag, coat and one of my jumpers into my bedroom, and went into the living room, where I discovered that Alexa’s mystery guest was Michael McCabe, who’d been in our year at drama school. He was sprawled on the sagging sofa, and she was sitting in an armchair, her long legs drawn up under her. As always, even without make-up, her blonde hair caught up in a messy pony-tail, and wearing an over-sized shirt and skinny jeans, she looked terrific.

‘Hey, Julie,’ Alexa said. ‘Would you like some wine?’ She reached down beside her chair and picked up a dark green bottle. ‘Oh – it’s empty.’

‘I can’t think how that happened,’ I said, noticing a second empty bottle on the dining table. ‘Hello, Michael. Long time no see. Not since the summer.’ I sat down next to him on the sofa. There was a twang as another of the springs broke.

‘How was your audition?’ Alexa said to me.

‘Can we not talk about it?’ I said. ‘Let’s just say that I’m still a resting actor.’

‘The last time I auditioned was for panto,’ Michael said. ‘I was right down to the last two for Aladdin, but the other guy got the part. I spent most of December in a shopping mall, working as one of Santa’s elves. Not even Santa, just a frickin’ elf.’

‘So when do we give up on this awful profession?’ Alexa said.

‘Never!’ Michael said.

‘Never,’ I said, but with less conviction.

Michael glanced at his watch. ‘Do you know it’s nearly one o’clock in the morning? I must get going. I have to be at work by half past eight.’

‘Santa having made his elves redundant after Christmas,’ Alexa said to me, ‘Michael is now building houses for his dad.’ I vaguely remembered that Michael’s father owned a construction company.

‘I’m not physically laying bricks,’ Michael said. ‘I’m in my dad’s head office. Playing the role of the Boss’s Son.’

‘How’s that working out?’ I said.

‘Oh it’s just fantastic.’ Michael got to his feet. ‘Obviously my dad’s employees treat me just like one of the gang. It’s not like they stop talking when I come into the room or anything. Alexa, I think I left my coat in the hall –’

‘Bye, Michael,’ I said.

Alexa followed him out onto the landing. For a few minutes, I heard them talking, although I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Then I heard Michael’s footsteps receding down the stairs, and the front door open and close again. It occurred to me that Alexa’s plans for the evening may not have included his going home.

‘Sorry for barging in on you,’ I said, when she came back into the room. ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt anything – with Michael.’

‘Nothing to interrupt,’ Alexa said. ‘He just called in for a chat.’

‘You and he do have a history…’

‘I hooked up with him once, two years ago,’ Alexa said. ‘Been there, done that, moved on. Besides, he’s still living with Suzanne.’

‘Is he?’ I said. ‘I’d heard they broke up a couple of months ago.’

Alexa shook her head. ‘No, they went through a bad patch, but they’re OK now.’

‘What’s she up to these days?’

‘She was actually doing some acting,’ Alexa said. ‘She had a small part in no less than five episodes of Law of the Land. There was apparently some talk of her being in the next series, but nothing came of it, and now she’s working nights as a waitress. Michael was complaining that they hardly get to spend any time together.’

‘So you two really are just good friends?’ I said.

‘I do have rules, Julie,’ Alexa said, ‘and my most important rule is that I don’t do the dirty with other girls’ boyfriends.’

‘I’m extremely impressed by your moral compass,’ I said.

‘I was tempted to shag him, though,’ Alexa said, ‘just to cheer him up. The Boss’s Son. That has to be fairly ghastly.’

‘I would think so,’ I said. ‘I wonder if he has to wear a suit and a tie to the office.’

‘An office job,’ Alexa said. ‘But that’s a great idea. I’ll apply for a job in the office at Joe Garcia’s production company.’

I stared at her. ‘I’m sorry, did you say you want to work in Joe Garcia’s office?’

‘Think about it, Julie,’ Alexa said. ‘How many times have you sent your CV and headshot to Garcia Productions?’

‘A few,’ I said. ‘Well, more than a few. I’ve lost count. They could probably wallpaper their entire building with the number of CVs and headshots I’ve sent them.’

‘Exactly,’ Alexa said. ‘I’m guessing hundreds of actors send their CVs to the great Joe Garcia every day. He’s never going to see everyone who wants to audition for him. So I get a job in his production office, and burst into song…’

‘… he’s totally overwhelmed by your amazing voice…’

‘… and he gives me the lead in his next West End musical,’ Alexa said. ‘I’ll persuade him to let you into the back row of the chorus.’

‘You are such a good friend to me,’ I said.

‘Of course, if the office staff at Garcia Productions discover that I can’t touch type,’ Alexa said, ‘they may fire me before I get the chance to sing for Joe Garcia.’

‘There is that.’ I sighed theatrically. ‘We’ll just have to keep sending him our CVs.’

‘Seriously,’ Alexa said, ‘can you imagine what it would be like to be in a musical directed by Joe Garcia?’

‘I can,’ I said. ‘I do. Every single day.’

I can imagine it, I thought, but I’m finding it increasingly hard to believe it’s ever going to happen.

CHAPTER 4

I sat on the sofa, my laptop on my knees, and checked through my emails. Over the last couple of weeks, I’d sent my CV and headshot to five casting agencies, two production companies, and an independent film-maker, but I hadn’t been called in to audition by any of them. I sighed. Closing my email, I brought up the recruitment section of the online showbiz newspaper, In the Wings, and found myself looking at an advert for an open audition for a musical.

I leapt off the sofa, almost knocking over the mug of tea I’d put down by my feet, ran into the hall, and rapped loudly on Alexa’s bedroom door.

‘Alexa, wake up!’ I shouted. ‘You have to see this!’ After a minute or so, I knocked again. The door creaked opened. Alexa shuffled past me and into the living room, wrapped in her duvet.

‘Less noise,’ she said, lowering herself carefully onto the sofa. ‘I feel rough.’ She closed her eyes. ‘Need to phone in sick to day job.’

‘Poor you,’ I said.

‘More sympathy required,’ Alexa said.

‘Sending you sympathetic vibes,’ I said.

‘Went clubbing with old school friends,’ Alexa said. ‘Danced all night. Drank all night. Didn’t leave club till five. Didn’t get home till six.’

‘Sympathy officially withdrawn,’ I said. ‘But I do have the perfect medicine for a hangover. An audition. For a musical.’

Alexa’s eyes flew open. ‘Give me your laptop.’ Hangover apparently cured, she snatched my laptop out of my hands. ‘“Pride and Prejudice: The Jane Austen Musical,”’ she read aloud. ‘“A six-month regional tour, with a possible West End transfer.”’

‘We have to get this job,’ I said.

‘I wonder how many girls they’re looking for,’ Alexa said.

‘Well, there are the five Bennett sisters to start with,’ I said. ‘I would so love to play a character like Elizabeth Bennett.’

‘What about the ensemble?’ Alexa said. ‘Isn’t there a ball in Pride and Prejudice?’

‘More than one,’ I said. ‘They’ll need loads of girls.’

Alexa read the rest of the advert: ‘“Strong singing and jazz dance required. Register nine a.m. Be prepared to stay all day.”’

I said, ‘How do you make yourself look like an actress who could play a Jane Austen character when you’re dressed for dancing in a leotard and tights?’

Alexa thought for a moment. ‘I’m going to wear my pink leotard with the puff sleeves. That would suggest those dresses they wore back then.’

‘I’ve got that leotard in pale blue. Do you mind if I wear it as well?’

‘Of course not, seeing as it’s you.’ Alexa smiled. ‘You know, I feel so much better now I’ve an audition to go to.’

‘I thought you would.’ I glanced at my watch. ‘And you’ve still got time to get to your shift at the call centre.’

‘I don’t feel that much better,’ Alexa said.

***

On the day of the Pride and Prejudice audition, we left our flat at seven a.m., which meant that even if every train and bus in London were cancelled, and we had to walk, we would still have time to get to Hoofers – the dance studio where the audition was being held – well before the doors opened at nine. The underground was heaving with commuters, some bleary-eyed and yawning, others absorbed in their newspapers and Kindles, but we didn’t have to wait long for a train. We even managed to find seats next to each other.

‘We’re really early,’ Alexa said, as we came out of the station just after seven-thirty. ‘I doubt many people will arrive for at least another hour. We’ll probably be in the first group to dance.’

‘Or maybe not,’ I said.

In front of us, blocking half the pavement and stretching around the corner, was a queue of girls and guys of around our age. Many of them were clutching sheet music.

‘There must be over a hundred people here already,’ I said. ‘We may not even get seen.’

‘Don’t be defeatist,’ Alexa said. ‘You stay here and keep us a place in the queue. I’ll go and see if there’s anyone we know further along who we can go and join.’

I went and stood at the back of the queue. Soon more people came out of the station and stood behind me.

‘See anyone?’ I asked, when Alexa returned.

‘Only Polly,’ Alexa said. ‘She’s right near the front.’ Neither of us said it aloud, but I knew we were both thinking that Polly – who, when we were students, rarely made it through a dance class without tripping over her feet – was one rival for a part in Pride and Prejudice that we didn’t have to worry about.

‘Why don’t we go and join her?’ I said.

‘In all honesty,’ Alexa said, ‘I think if anyone jumps this queue they’re going to get lynched. Polly said there were people already here when she arrived at half past six.’

The boy directly in front of us in the queue turned around to face us. ‘I’m thinking we’ll have to kneecap the competition,’ he said.

The boy standing next to him said, ‘I’m going with a quick blow to the back of the neck while they’re warming up – they’ll never know what hit them. I’m Jonas, by the way. He’s Toby.’

Toby was tall and in his late twenties, while Jonas was of medium height and maybe a couple of years younger. They both had dark blond hair, and the athletic physique of musical theatre actors who regularly attend dance class.

Alexa gave Jonas a dazzling smile. ‘I’m Alexa, and this is Julie.’

Jonas smiled back at her. ‘So now we all know each other,’ he said. We were still chatting with the guys when the queue, which by now trailed back past the station, began to move.

‘Here we go, here we go, here we go,’ Toby said.

‘At last,’ I said.

Alexa said. ‘Did you feel rain?’ Even as she spoke, I felt . . .