Chapter Five

“Not much of a drinker, are you?” Ryan commented, finishing his cheeseburger and motioning to the waitress to bring him a refill on his beer.

“Not at all. I guess I had my share of drinking when it was still illegal,” she smiled taking a sip of her iced tea. They had eaten at a small bar around the corner from the theater; it’s a small place whose customers are usually the theater and art people dropping in for good bar food at odd hours. They spent the entire meal laughing and casually talking like old friends which, in reality they are: they’ve each seen the other at numerous auditions, through friends, and even managers’ offices.

“So, you’re from Ohio, you’ve been here for ten years, and now you’re about to open a major show directly on Broadway. You’re the American dream, baby!” they share another laugh as Kaylin considers what he has said: she’s been so wrapped up in preproduction red-tape that, with the exception of going out with some friends to celebrate, she hasn’t had time to ruminate on the significance of her goal, her dream, coming to fruition so completely.

“You know, I never thought about it like that. Well, I have, but not lately,” her eyes flickered around the room, avoiding Ryan’s gaze, “I don’t have family, so except for Saturday with Kaitlyn and all, I haven’t really let the impact hit me.” Before Ryan had a chance to take note of the sadness that skimmed across her eyes as she said it, a light voice came from over Ryan’s shoulder.

“Kaylin McSandsen, you uppity bitch,” Ryan snapped his head around to see who was talking and found behind him a petite, blonde man wearing a leather jacket and red scarf. “You haven’t returned my calls, too good for your old friends, now?” there was a slight British accent to the man’s voice, and a broad smile came across his face; he was joking and moving to get around the table to where Kay was seated. Ryan turned back to Kay and she was grinning.

“I’m awful, I know,” she stood up and embraced the man – who appeared to be a bit shorter than she was and she wasn't very tall, “but I haven’t talked to anyone. Tell him!” she motioned to Ryan. “Ryan, this is Spike. Spike, this is Ryan, another friend whose calls I haven’t returned.” Spike extended a delicate hand to Ryan.

“My name is Stephen, but they call me Spike. It’s a Buffy thing,” Spike laughed and turned his attention back to Kay. “Well my dear, you are to come by the bar tomorrow. I will not HEAR of you turning me down” Spike said as he tenderly reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Kaylin’s ear for her. From across the bar, the bartender announced that a to-go order was ready for pick up, and Spike perked up, kissed Kay on the cheek before spun around to dash off to the bar.

“That’s my food. Darling, you had better show up!!” He called over his shoulder. Once he was safely behind Ryan, Spike gave Kaylin a two thumbs-up sign and mouthed, “Hottie!!” and went off to get his food, leaving Kaylin standing, chuckling to herself beside her seat.

“I’m sorry about that,” she giggled, “but it must be nice to know I wasn’t just avoiding you.” Ryan was amused by the entire encounter, and his easy-going personality took it all in stride. Based on what he saw from the patrons of the clubs they visited that Saturday, he had a feeling hanging out with Kay would be like this a lot. She knew a lot of people and didn’t meet anyone she didn’t treat like a friend.

“No problem. But I can’t believe you haven’t been running around the streets of New York this last week shouting about your role!”

“It hasn’t sunk in yet. I was told the PR guy from the theater would be 'in touch' with me, and then I'd have interviews and stuff, but for now I've been too busy to breathe!”

“Well, I was going to ask you to do something on Saturday, but since you’ve already gotten orders,” they laugh and his voice drops an octave, his eyes turning serious, “when I can I see you again?”

Looking over his shoulder to see Spike mouthing HOTTIE again as caught her eye before walking out the door, Kaylin leaned across the table on her elbows. “Tell you what, if you would like, why don’t you come with me on Saturday? Spike deejays a bar that does karaoke on Saturday nights; it’s a little place, not many people, but they’re a part of my entourage. If you wouldn’t feel out of place I’d love for you to come too.”

“Consider it a date then. Should I pick you up?” he leaned back in his seat to reach into his back pocket for his wallet to pay the bill.

“Sure, here’s my address,” she looked around the table for something to write on but, giving up, grabbed a pen from her purse and wrote out a short, street address on one of the dollar bills he was putting down as a tip. “Around 9 ok?” She stood up and began to pull on her coat. Ryan stood up, effectively putting himself directly in front of her by only a few inches.

“You know, that might be considered the third date, if you consider Saturday a date,” he says letting his hand go to her waist, under the jacket before she can zip it up. She puts one hand on the back of his neck and kisses him quickly, but heatedly.

“It might be,” she throws back to him demurely, biting her lip and pulling on her gloves and hat.