Page 44 of Saved By the Pitcher

James’ face heated with anger and angst. “Don’t interfere with the voting. I don’t want to win like that.”

“You still don’t get it, do you? It doesn’t matter how you win. Nobody will know what happened behind the scenes when you take the stage to accept your statue. If you don’t influence votes, then someone else will. James, you can’t win if they’re all playing the game and you’re sitting in the bleachers watching.”

James dropped his head to his hands. He didn’t want to believe everyone else was as jaded as his father. But one thing had rung true to him. James knew he was powerless, and it made him want to scream in anger. Collecting his emotions, he raised his head and whispered, “I will break up with Mike if you leave Billy alone.”

“Of course,” his father answered. “I’m not the one who’s trying to be unreasonable, James.”

“And please stay out of my business,” James added. “No influencing votes. I’d rather never win than win unfairly.”

Charles gritted his teeth. “Fine. Stay a loser, James. Just like your brother. No wonder you two are so close.”

James sucked in the air, then blinked hard to keep a tear from falling. “Are we done? Can I go now?”

“Go. If you don’t want additional punishment, break up with that degenerate no later than tomorrow,” his father warned. “I’ll expect to hear back from my men that it’s taken care of.”

As James was about to exit, his father said, “Give my regards to William.”

Chapter Fourteen

Nadia had requested time away from work to tend to Billy. Knowing his brother was being cared for was how James managed to plow through his rehearsal, physical therapy and evening performance. Throughout the show, he had to remind himself that some of the audience members were seeing it for the first time, and he had to put his worries aside so he didn’t disappoint. Nevertheless, he messed up his lines twice and almost brought down a co-star with the wrong dance move. James was embarrassed to take a bow at the show’s conclusion, knowing he wasn’t worthy of the standing ovation the crowd still awarded him. After most performances, the cast would mingle backstage and share some laughs. This night, James scurried back to his dressing room, wanting to escape the humiliation, the memory of his father’s lecture and the thought of breaking up with Mike.

“Knock, knock.” James turned to see who had spoken from the hallway outside his dressing room door. He returned a weak smile when it registered that it was his co-star, Emily Hunt. James could see the concern in her eyes, and it reinforced for him that he had been as bad on stage as he had feared.

“Hey.”

“Can we talk for a minute?” Emily was still in the sexy outfit she wore when she portrayed the president’s mistress. James had been pleased when she had been cast in the role. Emily had many stage credits under her belt, was very talented and was prettier than many of the other women with whom he’d worked. She didn’t have a big ego, and she had befriended James from the start, even though many of the other actors kept a polite distance because of his last name. He was thankful that he and Emily shared the same agent and publicist team, as it made it easier for them to bond over common experiences. At one point, James had even contemplated asking her out, but he needed a friend at work and he didn’t want to jeopardize losing the one he had if the relationship went sour.

“I was just heading out,” James apologized. “My brother is staying at my place. He was mugged and assaulted last night, and…” James cursed under his breath, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. “Emily, I’m sorry I wasn’t very good tonight. I let everyone down.”

The actress walked into his room, closing the door behind her to allow James his privacy. She didn’t ask him questions as she pulled him into a hug to let him cry. “Shh. You didn’t let anyone down, James. The audience didn’t even notice the mistakes. I promise. You covered them like a pro.”

Once he regained his composure, he blinked away the last tears and straightened. “Sorry about that. It’s been a rough couple of days.”

“I’m sorry about your brother. Will he be all right?”

James nodded. “Yeah. He’s a tough little fucker.” He let out a melancholy laugh, and she joined with a similarly toned one.

“Did they catch who did it?”

James sank back down on the single chair in his space. “No.”

Emily tried out a small, encouraging smile. “Well, I’m sure he’ll never see them again.”

James dropped his head, wishing that was true, but knowing that depended on his actions going forward. “This constant pressure is unbearable.”

He saw Emily drop to her knees, squeezing herself between his legs. She looked up at him with caring, and it restarted a tear at the corner of his eye. James was embarrassed by his emotion, and it made him recall his father’s accusation that he wasn’t much of a man.

“What’s going on, James? What do you mean? This is more than your brother being attacked, isn’t it?” James remained motionless, regretting his careless comment. “James, everyone here sees how sad you are. The fact that you give such an amazing performance every night, so full of life and confidence, doesn’t jibe with how you are off stage. People want to reach out, but they’re afraid to overstep. Everyone cares about you.”

James was shocked that the reason they kept their distance was because they were trying to be respectful. “I thought they didn’t want to get close to me because of my father, figuring I’m cut from the same cloth.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “Oh, James, no. How could you be like your father and still star in a show with a message like this one has? They admire you, knowing what you’re doing must piss off your father. We can see that you’re nothing like him—or at least nothing like his image. You’re always kind to everyone. I told them how I see you give food to the homeless guy out front every day.” James blushed. He didn’t realize anyone had been watching. It had become a routine for him to bring some of his homemade food to the poor old guy named Hal. The two had even started conversing about which dishes James made better than others. James felt guilty that on Mondays when the theater was dark, Hal could be going without food.

“Thanks,” was all James could murmur in response.

“You’ve almost seemed happy the last couple of weeks,” Emily continued. “I thought maybe you met someone. Then, today, you came in and I could tell right away that the joy was gone. So, I’ll ask again. This isn’t just about what happened to your brother, is it?”

He wanted to share. He wanted a friend who would tell him he would be okay. “I wish I could talk about it, Emily. I’m not trying to shut people out. It’s just, the less people know, the safer they are.”