Inner Diva Read Free

floor and felt a little
warmth in her cheeks. “Now, why would you think …?”
    “I saw you studying the script last night.
And I heard you running through the lines.” He stood and joined
her, placing his hand on her elbow. “You wanted a part, didn’t
you?”
    Monica shrugged.
    “Why didn’t you try out?”
    She squeezed her lips together in a
close-mouthed smile. “I’m needed back here.”
    He lowered an eyebrow at her. “Uh huh.”
    She always broke into a giggle when he did
that. “What? I am.”
    “Sure. Or is it that we’re a little too
fearful to put ourselves out there and try something new?”
    She studied him. “Okay, that too.” She hated
that he could read her so well.
    He tugged on her arm. “What do you say we
grab something to eat? I’m starved.”
    She nodded and headed to the back where she’d
left her coat.
    “And make me a promise, would you?”
    She shrugged on her jacket. “What?”
    “Next show -- whatever it is -- go for it,
Mon. Get up the nerve to audition. You’d be great out there.”
    Monica shuddered. Practicing lines in her
bathroom was one thing, but up on a stage in front of an auditorium
full of people was another. Even at the theater located on the
outskirts of St. Louis, which had become her home over the last few
years. She loved running the box office, designing the advertising,
helping select the plays, making sure the seats were filled. It was
a great job, and she was pretty good at it.
    But acting was another thing entirely. The
theater had an unending supply of talent knocking down its doors.
The director wouldn’t consider her for a role.
    Or would he?
    Then again, it was her dream. Literally.
Often she’d awaken after dreaming of being onstage, soaking in the
applause and adoration of the crowd. Lately, her dreams invaded her
waking hours as well. Out of nowhere, a vivid daydream of
performing as an actress interrupted her work and completely
distracted her. Like when she almost got hit in the head by an
errant stagelight.
    She had an inner diva. A sleeping one, at the
moment, but still, there. And she needed a nudge to emerge into the
spotlight.
    Maybe making the move from backstage -- her
comfort zone – to front stage was the answer. The question was, did
she have the courage to do it?
    “Maybe.”
    “That’s all I’m getting from you? A maybe?”
Steve zipped his own jacket and headed toward the backstage
door.
    “I’ll think about it.” Monica followed, and
almost got run over by Trina, the female lead of the show. “Excuse
–“ she started, but didn’t finish because the self-proclaimed star
of the show whooshed past, her male co-star trotting along behind
her. They were in the middle of a discussion (aka, argument).
    “No, it doesn’t work if you do it that way,
Brad. When you cross stage left it hides me completely from that
side of the auditorium. My reaction to your revelation is vital.
It’s the turning point of the scene.” She stalked downstage with
Brad following.
    Monica glanced at Steve and they shared a
laugh. “You see what you’d be saving us from if you were the female
lead?”
    Forty minutes later they were seated at
Burger Barn, finishing up cheeseburgers, fries and milkshakes. A
haze of fifties-nostalgia hung on the walls and a jukebox sat in
the corner, loaded with Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis and Johnny Cash. The
waitress wore a poodle skirt, sneakers and pony tail and Monica
wondered if the middle-aged woman’s foul mood could be explained by
her understandable disenchantment with the uniform.
    Monica’s cell phone rang. She gave Steve a
surprised look and fumbled in her purse before answering it.
    “Monica? I got off two hours early and can
talk now.”
    Although the caller hadn’t identified
herself, Monica recognized the voice and the accent – Senora
Garcia.
    “Thank you so much for your call back.”
    “If you want, you come over now and we talk.
You meet Luisa.”
    Monica’s heart jumped. She was hoping