Page 46 of A Certain Step (Midnights at Pemberley #1)

WILLA

W illa was fortunate to be able to reschedule her regular bi-weekly therapy sessions to once a week to work through the fears and hesitations that kept creeping up after their relationship went public.

It was a process, to be sure, but she was getting there. It helped to continue posting dance videos with Miles, which often led to positive reinforcement about their work as artists. It disconnected her from the noise concerning their personal lives.

It was also reassuring to be made aware of the detail that many people were waiting for Ethan and Willa to get together—still, one step at a time.

But tonight wasn’t about her. It was about all of them—it was a day to commemorate the best of theatre, and it was a time to celebrate the show that’d perpetually leave a mark on each of them.

She got her hair and makeup redone after the matinee show, where their performance of “Midnights at Pemberley” was recorded to air during the awards later in the evening.

Ethan’s suit, courtesy of Armani, was pressed and ready to go.

Willa was set to wear a gorgeous champagne, sequined dress from Donika Loci Peje.

Their ride to the Lincoln Center was scheduled to arrive in two-ish hours. When she strode in, Ethan was sprawled against his couch in his dressing room. He looked up at her, his expression soft and brimming with contentment.

“Did you write your speech?” she asked him.

“Nope. I’m not trying to be humble, Wills, but there’s no way I’m taking it when Henry Niven and Andy Hendricks are also nominated. There’s no point.”

She scoffed at him. “Ethan. Write something. You have a huge chance at winning and you’re going to stumble on your words and hate yourself if you have nothing to go off.”

“Your faith in me is adorable.”

Raising an eyebrow, she then looked around his dressing room for the journal she knew he kept for notes. She spotted it on the edge of his vanity, beelined over to grab it, then set it in front of him. “Write,” she demanded.

He sighed, trying not to smile. “Can I just write about how much I love you?”

Willa ogled him for a beat; the vision of him sitting leisurely in her graphic tee was among one of the hottest things she’d ever seen. She had stayed over the night before, and when they had been getting ready for the day, she noticed him eyeing her Muppets T-shirt folded on the vanity.

He had promptly stopped her when she was about to pack it into her backpack.

“Mind if I borrow this?” Ethan had mused.

Willa had laughed. “Sure,” she’d consented, watching as he pulled the shirt over his exposed chest. The unisex fabric that was purposely oversized on her fit his frame superbly.

“Looks good on you. How long have you been wanting to steal it from me?” she had joked.

He had guffawed. “You know this shirt on you is my kryptonite, but the need just came to me.”

“Well, what’s mine is yours, babe. Honestly, it’s a little surprising we didn’t start swapping tees earlier in our friendship.”

He had then taken her face in his hands and kissed her so tenderly that she thought she’d evaporate.

She let the memory settle at the forefront of her mind again. He’d be suited in a few hours, but this moment was a mark of their closeness that well and truly established he was her person. If to no one else, then to every agonizing thought that had once plagued her.

She bent down and kissed the top of his head before leaving him alone.

“I’m going to walk away now. There better be words on paper at some point.”

The man dared to laugh. Willa was sure he’d win, and she couldn’t wait to experience it—to tell him that she was right.

She went back into her dressing room and sat down on her chair.

Sahar’s sister, Amina, was in town from London, and the two had gone to Amanda’s Coffee to grab drinks.

Taking in the brief moment alone, she reveled in the quiet comfort of how lovely life was turning out to be.

Willa walked over to her dress hung on a rack and snapped a close-up of the sequins and the colors. She posted it to her stories with the sparkling emoji. This was fine. Little things like this seldom made her anxious. Still, she considered it another step in embracing the new normal.

She knew that life wouldn’t always be this bright and exciting.

There was much about the industry that needed to change.

It was a stunning place in more ways than one, but corrupt, too.

Many actors weren’t as fortunate as they were.

Who knew what the next gig would bring? She had the luxury of ignoring those what-ifs for a while—a chance to temporarily b e present in its lovelier corner.

The thrill in the room was already infectious after the amount of wins Midnights at Pemberley was taking home.

Willa was especially ecstatic to be right about almost everything.

She did want to fight someone because Naomi, Sahar, Sam, and Declan all lost in their categories—though she was still proud of them beyond measure for the nominations.

She took Ethan’s hand as the nominations were announced for Best Performance by a Leading Actor in a Musical.

“And the Tony Award goes to,” Noah Gemmell proclaimed, opening the envelope. “Ethan Everett!”

Willa was sure that Ethan was in shock because he didn’t move.

He simply stared. It dawned on him slowly, then all at once, when she squeezed his hand.

The people around them had already begun clapping.

The auditorium roared with their ovation.

He kissed her, rose to his feet, and walked over to the stage.

He thanked Noah and Iris Ariti as he took the plaque presented to him.

She caught him shaking his head lovingly before he reached into his pocket and took out the folded piece of paper. She was aware that fashion critics often looked down on men for wearing all-black suits—it annoyed her, too, at times—but damn, he was too hot in his for her to care.

“Thank you to the Broadway League and American Theatre Wing for this immense honor. My fellow nominees, it was meaningful for me just to be featured alongside each of you.”

Pausing, he smiled and spoke freely. “Mom, Dad, Joana, and Nick, I’m so sorry I told you not to come because I didn’t think there’d be a point, but I wouldn’t be half t he person I am today without the love and support you’ve all shown me.

I once promised my late Grandfather Callum that if I ever won one of these, I’d have to tell the world that he was always right about everything. ”

His voice broke a little. He caught himself with a breath. “He was right.”

“Jeffrey and Greta Henderson, you two brought the world so much joy and light with this production—thank you for choosing me and letting me be your Darcy. It was a big risk to adapt something as beloved as Jane Austen’s work like this, but allowing it to be unapologetically happy has made for an unforgettable experience.

There’s nowhere on this earth that’s more open, inclusive, and beautiful than our stages, and I’m so privileged to have this job.

It’s never something I take for granted.

Betty Reyes, my manager who’s been with me from the start of my career, thank you for constantly rooting for me.

Our entire Midnights cast and crew—this show has fundamentally changed me.

It’s made me a better person and a better performer, and it’s brought more light into my life than I ever thought possible.

You’re some of the greatest people, and I’m constantly in awe of each of you. ”

And then his gaze magnetized with hers, his smile a breathtaking spectacle of its own. “Finally—Willa, my love—thank you for believing in me as fervently as you do. You’re the most extraordinary gift in my life.”

Her tears fell openly as she caught his eyes glistening while he walked backstage. When the world tested them, when life got too cruel, she’d take moments like this with her everywhere.

She shared everything from the show’s official account, taking an additional step in trying by adding “bursting with unparalleled joy and pride. Congrats, my love! ??