Free Stage Fright (Bit Parts) by Michelle Scott Page B

wanted to talk about the Cipher.”
    “Yes, because I want answers!”
    “You fainted on stage.  That’s your answer.”
    I dropped my eyes.  “I don’t believe it.”
    “Well, what do you thinkhappened?”
    I bit my lower lip.  It hadn’t been rape.  I’d checked myself when I’d gotten home that day and hadn’t discovered any bruising or torn clothing or any other clues that made me think of forced sex.  Still, I knew that I’d been violated.
    Finally, I shrugged helplessly.  “I have no idea.”
    After several seconds, he said, “I wish I could help you.  I know you’re upset.”
    “I’m not upset!”   Then I realized that I’d been wrapping my hair around my finger so tightly that I’d cut off my circulation.  My heart was racing, and I was dangerously close to tears.  Although I wore a short-sleeved t-shirt, the coffee shop felt much too warm.  Forcing air into my lungs, I unwound my hair and gave a shaky laugh.  “It’s just that fainting on stage is a big deal for an actress,” I told him.  “A career-killer if you must know.”  I rubbed my damp palms on my jeans.  “But the worst part is not knowing what happened to me.”
    A burst of cold air filled the room as a couple entered the coffee shop.  I recognized them as a pair of reporters from the Muse.
    Isaiah noticed them as well.  “Looks like Luquin’s show is over.”
    Which meant Elena would be packing up right now.  “I need to get back,” I said.  “But before I go, won’t you please tell me something about the Cipher.  Anything!”
    His amber eyes once again held pity.  “The Cipher is gone now.  Try to put it behind you.”
    “Thanks for the advice.”  I threw my empty coffee cup into the trash, and stormed out the door.
     
    I arrived in the Muse’s lobby just as Elena was pushing the elevator’s down button.  Seeing me, she brightened.  “Oh, good!  You’re still here.  Geoffrey’s practically shoving me out the door.”
    With my help, the two of us were able to take everything in one trip.  Or so we thought until we reached the van. 
    “Where are the tablecloths?” Elena asked after we’d loaded the last box.  “I told you to grab them!”
    Actually, she hadn’t, but I wasn’t going to argue.  Elena was tired and cranky, and she had the same stubborn look in her eye that my mother always got when she became tired and cranky.  Over the years, my dad and I had discovered that – at times like these – it was better to give in to them than make a stand.
    “Don’t worry.  I’ll go get them.”
    She sank onto the tailgate and slipped off a shoe.  “Make it quick.  My feet are killing me.”
    I hurried back into the building and over to the elevator where another woman in a sequined mask and a trench coat jabbed furiously at the UP button.  We boarded the elevator together, and as it climbed, I realized that I knew this person.  The sweep of long blond hair over her shoulders, the mask that had been liberated from the Bleak Street prop closet, and – most incriminating – the butterfly tattoo on her ankle.
    “Tabitha?”
    She lowered her mask and glowered at me.  “What are you doing here?”
    “I was helping my sister cater an art opening.”
    She shrugged as if bored already.
    When the elevator continued to climb, I said, “You’re not going to the Muse, are you?  I thought the event after the opening was private.”
    A secret smile touched her lips.  “It’s by invitation only.”  She pulled a white envelop from the pocket of her coat.  “And I have an invitation.”  She flipped her hair over her shoulder.  “Darryl’s not the only one to catch Hedda’s eye.  She even promised to introduce me to the playwright Victor Stuyvesant.  I’m going to be his date for the evening.”
    Maybe it was Geoffrey’s obvious dread, but something about the afterglow party set off my inner alarm bells.  “Do you have any idea what this occasion is all