Free Blitzing Emily by Julie Brannagh

couple of hours or so.”
    She stopped in the doorway of the dressing room and whirled to face them. Suddenly dizzy, she grabbed for the doorjamb, but straightened up to fix them both with what she hoped was an intimidating stare.
    “I am not a child,” she enunciated. “If I am too ill to continue, I will take a cab home.”
    It was like she’d never spoken.
    “I’ll take care of everything, Brandon.” The two men shook hands again. Brandon bent to brush his lips across her cheek. She resisted the impulse to turn into his kiss.
    “Bye, sugar. I’ll be back to pick you up in a little while.”
    Emily walked into her dressing room, dropped her handbag on the table, and fell onto the couch. “When Jason finds out you were flirting with him, your life won’t be worth living. He’ll lock you out of the house.”
    “Do you know who that man is , cherie? Jason would be flirting with him, too.”
    “He’s a football player—”
    “No. He’s an icon .” Tristan let out a sigh. “Do you know how many websites are dedicated to him? You should see his practice photos. He’s beautiful. Imagine how many men would like to lick him dry.”
    “And you’re one of them,” she teased.
    “Absolutely.”
    “Well, then, it’s your lucky day. Have at it.” Emily rummaged through her purse for another ibuprofen. She’d left them at home. Damn.
    “What do you mean?”
    Emily had known Tristan since she walked out onto a stage and auditioned to get into the conservatory. They’d been friends for almost twenty years now, and she hoped they’d be friends for the rest of their lives. Tristan never wanted to sing. He dressed those who did, and his star continued to rise. She knew he should have been dressing opera companies in New York or Europe. She also knew that she could never, ever lie to him.
    “We’re not dating. We’re not engaged.”
    Tristan’s mouth dropped open. “So, what was today’s big announcement?”
    “A mistake. We’ll correct it in a month.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “It works for both of us.” She studied her manicure, or what was left of it. She had to get her nails done. Maybe later.
    “You’re sure about this? After all, he may fall madly in love with me, cherie.”
    “That’s a risk I’ll have to take.” She stood up from the couch. “I need to get out there and see if I can sing right now. God, my head hurts.”
    Tristan laid another armload of costumes over a table. “I want to see how the scene three costume fits one more time before you go.” He pulled it off a rolling rack and advanced on Emily. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”
    “Yeah. Maybe. I have no idea.” It wasn’t just the singing she wasn’t sure of, either.
    “Well, let’s try this on first.”
    E MILY WALKED ONSTAGE a short time later to a smattering of applause. The practice pianist launched into Lohengrin’s Bridal Chorus.
    “That’s enough,” Emily joked.
    “When’s the wedding?” a heavily accented voice called out from the audience. That would be Johann, the baritone playing Count Almaviva. Johann had asked Emily out. Even if she were interested, she would never agree to date anyone she worked with again.
    “We’re still working on that.”
    “Miss Hamilton,” the floor director called out. “How are you feeling?”
    “Not great,” Emily said.
    He approached the lip of the stage. “Let’s try Cinque, dieci, venti, trenta from The Marriage of Figaro.” Johann rose from his seat and joined Emily.
    “A marriage, is it? That was fast,” Johann muttered to her. “Simply because you didn’t want to date me?” She ignored him. The pianist began playing, and Emily tried to sing. What was typically so effortless for her now brought waves of pain. This wasn’t going to work. She stopped, and everyone on stage was silent.
    “I—I don’t think I can do this today. I am so sorry.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and laid a hand on Johann’s arm to brace herself. She