Naughty Little Secrets. Mary Wilbon

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naughty little secrets

      naughty little secrets

      mary wilbon

      KENSINGTON BOOKS

       www.kensingtonbooks.com

      For Doug, my angel on the second floor

      acknowledgments

      Thanks to my editor at Kensington Books, John Scognamiglio, for taking a chance on a first-time writer. Without his guidance, you would not be reading this.

      Thanks to Doug Mendini for believing in me, even when I doubted myself.

      Many thanks to all my theater and nontheater friends and family for their time, kindness, and encouragement, Lynea Adams, Samuel Billings, Willa Coleman (Mom2), Clinton Scott, Cathy Green, Lorraine Hernandez, Sophie Majchrzak, Raymond Martoccia, Kathy Mattingly, Gil Moreno, Rob Pape, Robert Marcela, Joseph Petrecca, and Catherine F. Sutherland.

      My most profound thanks to Rich Aront, Rick Brown, Cathy Grega, Patricia Lea Remlinger, Paula Ruffin, Elka Bendit Butterley, Roberta Steve, and Cynthia S. Ross.

      To know you all is my light and my joy.

      The story you are about to read is a work of fiction. The incidents are not real. The characters are not real.

      Names have been made up and real names are used fictitiously.

      However, there really is a company named Garwood Paper Board, and an amusement park named Bowcraft.

      There really was a cat named Staccato, and she is missed.

      There really is a Yorkshire terrier named Garbo, but I’m the only one who thinks she’s a Wonder Dog.

      Contents

      prologue

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

naughty little secrets

      The Broad Street Players

      present

      “sorry i missed your

       birthday!”

      An Original Musical

      Starring

      Rock Scherer as Michael Ashton

      Beautee Holsom as Elizabeth Ashton

      Randall Garret as Phillip Sinclair

      Rachel Brougham as Darcey Montgomery

      Alicia Beavers as The Maid

      Book by Karson Parker Taylor

      Score & Musical Direction by Sindee Van Sant

      Choreography by Dale Mabrey

      Costumes by Cheri Boone-Blume

      Production Stage Manager Blair Borden

      Assistant Stage Manager David Castrato

      Production Directed by Addison Taylor

      prologue

      Too much Ecstasy and Viagra, too many drinks, not enough men. It was almost the perfect ending to a less than perfect day.

      Eugene looked at his watch. The numbers were scrambled at first, making no sense at all. Eugene continued to stare at them until they gradually aligned themselves correctly.

      Three in the morning.

      He had called for a ride over twenty minutes ago. He was too inebriated to try to drive himself home. Eugene was still glowing and tingling from the effects of the drugs and alcohol and sex. He was pleasantly stoned and exhausted.

      He looked around the parking area. Except for his, all the other cars were gone.

      Eugene was very often the last to leave. This place was great for men who wanted anonymous sex. With his good looks, Eugene always got every man he wanted. But he always left wanting more. He frequented this rest stop off the Garden State Parkway at least three times a week. He couldn’t get his fill.

      Normally he would have stayed even longer, but the winter weather and the holidays had kept a lot of men away.

      Eugene knew he spent too much time here. He had made a New Year’s resolution to cut back. But it was already days into January and he still hadn’t altered his behavior in the least.

      Oh, well. So much for resolve.

      Maybe next year.

      He pulled his coat collar up and over the scarf underneath. He had to protect his throat from the cold night air. No matter how cavalier Eugene may have been with his sex life, he was always very protective of his singing voice. He was in a show now, and he had to be at rehearsal later. Even though it was only community theater, Eugene took his responsibility very seriously.

      He figured he could kill some time waiting for his ride by going over his script. It would probably help him sober up, too.

      Eugene closed his eyes and forced himself to concentrate. Then he started saying his lines and singing softly.

      Sotto voce.

      He had a wonderful voice. He had some formal training, but that had been done merely to enhance his resume and impress everyone who read it. Singing beautifully just came effortlessly to Eugene.

      He walked around the dark, quiet, empty lot, acting and singing to himself, getting into his character as if he were on the stage. The only other sound breaking the late night stillness was the sound of the thin layer of snow crisply crunching beneath his footsteps. He strode up and down, reciting his lines theatrically, even measuring out his blocking and attempting a few of the dance numbers.

      A car approached the parking lot very quietly, the driver looking around, careful not to be observed. The driver parked in a remote spot then turned off the engine. Then watched Eugene. Watched and waited. Biding time. Calculating.

      Eugene tripped once or twice during the dance routine due to intoxication, but damn, he was good. Why couldn’t he be this good in front of an audience? Eugene knew he wasn’t a great actor, but he was adequate. And like most actors, he told himself that at times he was wonderful, and at this specific point in time, all alone with no one around to appreciate his gift, he was truly inspired. He was under the influence of drugs and alcohol, of course, so maybe his judgement was somewhat impaired, but he felt this was unquestionably the best he had ever been.

      After several repetitions, Eugene was confident that he had mastered all his songs, and that he knew most of his dialogue, but he was not so comfortable with the dance routines. The ability to move fluidly on the stage was not one of his natural talents, but