Center Stage by Bernadette Marie

believe it.” Regan sat back against the couch and tucked her feet up under her. “How was it?”
    “I didn’t come here to discuss details like that.”
    “Really. Usually you would.”
    “This is different.”
    “Different?” She studied her again. “You’re in love with him.”
    Arianna let out a long sigh. “I think I am.”
    “That’s wonderful.”
    “But we already live in the same house. It’s as if we’ve started a relationship at the end. This can’t go well.”
    “Be a little optimistic.”
    Regan was right. It wasn’t as if he’d offered marriage or any enormous commitment. If all else failed, she’d rent out the house again. Regan had lots of room for the favorite aunt.
     
    Zach had met John for lunch, and in true Zach style, he already had figures on the theater.
    The price was much more than John could take on himself, but then again, Arianna wouldn’t hear of that anyway. Zach had known that, too. He’d offered up capital from Benson, Benson, and Hart. It was an investment for them all—if she’d see it that way.
    John stopped by the store on his way home and picked up two steaks, a couple potatoes, and salad. There was no snow on the porch, so there was no reason not to cook her dinner. He couldn’t help himself either as he’d checked out. There was a fresh bouquet of flowers, and he bought them. That might have become too domestic, but the thought that they’d bring her some joy made it worthwhile.
    He’d pulled up in back of the house, which was the norm. The house looked dark, all but the one light from her bedroom window.
    He climbed out of his truck and headed toward the house with his groceries in his hand. The debate of whether to go in through the back door or straight down to his apartment jostled in his mind.
    They were in a committed relationship. They’d agreed on that like school children writing notes that said yes or no on them. So why was he so uncomfortable just walking into the house?
    He pushed open the door to his apartment and set the groceries on his kitchen table. The door which led to her kitchen was open. That alone was invitation enough, wasn’t it?
    Maybe he needed his nightly beer to put things into perspective. His routine was just disrupted. He needed one regular moment to make it all fall into place.
    John opened the door to the refrigerator and was more than surprised to find it stocked with beer.
    Out of sheer curiosity, he opened the freezer and his meals had been replaced, too.
    The thought that he should be happy seemed to be clouded by the thought that maybe she was replacing what she felt she owed him. He’d fed her and supplied the beer. He was really going to be pissed if she bought him a new can of coffee.
    When he opened that cupboard only his can remained.
    It was silly, right? He’d bought her flowers and dinner. Why should he think she didn’t want him after the weekend they’d shared?
    He knew why, because after years of marriage, his own wife hadn’t wanted him. Arianna was thirteen years his junior. At some point, she was going to want a man who wasn’t gray or watching his cholesterol.
    The unmistakable sound of Arianna walking down the stairs filled his ears. Then the sound of her walking through the kitchen had his heart beat ramping up.
    It was time to face the music. Worst case scenario, he’d order a pay-per-view movie and drink his beer.
    John gathered his groceries, two of the beers, and the bouquet of flowers and headed up the stairs. As he reached the top, her cell phone rang. He slowed.
    She answered the call and repeated “Hello” over and over before grunting.
    John turned the corner and Arianna jumped, obviously startled by his presence.
    “You scared the hell out of me. I guess we need a bell for your neck.”
    This was going to be rather interesting, he decided. A new woman—a new bad mood to learn.
    “I’m sorry. I thought I’d cook you dinner.”
    Her shoulders dropped and her eyes softened. “Thank