Obsessed Read Free

she saw was the bright moonlight glinting off a heavy tire iron as it arced down toward her head.

    Two
    J udy Lampert put her eye to the screen and peeked out through the mesh at the audience. It was a full house to night, but that wasn’t surprising. Covers had been very popular since it had opened last year. She’d really lucked out when she’d landed this job.
    There was a mirror on the back side of the screen, and Judy checked her reflection. She looked good tonight. Her wavy blonde hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and she was wearing her usual stage manager’s outfit, a black turtleneck sweater, black jeans, and black sneakers. She was responsible for adjusting the microphones, prepping the stage between numbers, and handling the props. They didn’t have a curtain, so they cut the lights between acts, and no one really noticed her up on the stage as long as she wore black.
    “Ready, kid?” Michael Warden walked up behind her and slipped a friendly arm around her shoulders. Judy felt such a rush of pure pleasure, she knew she would have purred if she’d been a cat. But Michael was only being friendly. She’d lived next door to him for enough years to know that he wasn’t interested in her, except as a sort of kid sister. He hadn’t paid attention when her hair had grown long and wavy. He hadn’t commented when her braces had come off and her smile had turned out picture perfect. He hadn’t even noticed when she’d lost her awkward baby fat, and started wearing the clothes that would show off her new svelte fig ure. Sometimes Judy felt like the invisible woman. Michael never seemed to really see her. It was frustrating to be in love with a guy who didn’t seem to know that she existed.
    Judy glanced at her watch. Michael was right. It was time to start. She gave him a quick hug. He didn’t seem to mind that, and then she walked to the old-fashioned light box on the wall. During the year she’d been working at Covers, Judy had learned a lot. The first time she’d brought up the lights, they’d clicked and blown a fuse. Now she knew the right way to handle the finicky old equipment. She brought the stage lights up slowly, gradually illuminating the painted flat that formed the backdrop—dark green with a pink Cov ers logo. Several students from the Burbank high school art class had completed it last summer.
    When the lights were up all the way, Judy cued Michael. He gave her a thumbs up gesture, and walked quickly to the black stool that sat on the apron. Michael was tall, and he didn’t have to climb up on the stool. He just slid on with one fluid motion, crossed his long legs, and grabbed the hand microphone while the audience applauded. All the regulars knew Michael. He was the closest thing to a star they had, and there were rumors about possible singing and acting contracts coming his way.
    For a moment Judy felt almost jealous of Michael’s suc cess. But that was ridiculous. She knew she had no per forming skills. She couldn’t sing, act, do stand-up comedy or play a musical instrument. She didn’t know how to jug gle, and she couldn’t do magic tricks. But she was good at her job, and that was all that counted. Mr. Calloway had told her that she was the best stage manager he’d ever had.
    “I’m Michael Warden. Welcome to Friday night at Cov ers.” Michael grinned and went into his opening speech, the one he gave every night except Sundays during the sum mer. When school reopened in the fall, Covers would only be open on Saturday nights. But it was summer now, and they were in full swing.
    “I see some regulars out there,” Michael said as he waved at a group of people he knew. “I’m glad you’re back, Bill. Hi, Mary. Nice sweater.”
    Judy tuned out for a minute. Michael always greeted the regulars by name. It made them feel important. But she started listening again when he went back to the script.
    “It’s always good to see new faces in the crowd, and that’s why