Hamlet’s Ghost

by Jane Tara

  “I have keys. Annie the real estate agent let me in.” She tried to sound professional. Hard to do when the most stunning man on the planet has just witnessed you falling head over ass.

  “Annie? A real estate agent?” He chuckled, as if that amused him.

  Rhi realized that this moment could make or break it for her. It was a stroke of luck really, running into the owner. “I’d like to lease the theater.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “The town needs a theater.”

  “That’s what I’ve always said.” He watched her for a moment. “What makes you the right person though?”

  “I have the right…qualifications.” God, her head was throbbing and everything that came out her mouth sounded ridiculous.

  “Qualifications? To rent an abandoned theater? What are your qualifications?”

  “I have a theater degree from Columbia and a master’s in failure from the New York school of life,” Rhi said, challenging him.

  He clapped his hands together. “The theater has been waiting for you.”

  Rhi let out a relieved laugh. “I know it sounds weird, but that’s how I feel.”

  “Believe me, not much sounds weird from where I stand.”

  “I could fix her up to her former glory.”

  The man smiled, his incredible face lighting up like a Christmas tree. “She was beautiful.”

  Good lord, so are you, thought Rhi. He wasn’t much older than her, probably early thirties. He had thick black hair, smooth olive skin and flashing gray eyes. He had a three-day shadow that gave him an air of devil-may-care. His lips were full and his nose and jaw strong. At well over six foot, he towered above her. He was wearing dark pants and a loose white shirt that emphasized what seemed to be a truly magnificent chest.

  He was, without a doubt, the most mesmerizing member of the male species she’d ever met. Rhi had to stop herself from staring. And drooling.

  He grinned at her, amused, as though he could read her mind. Not that it would have been a riveting read. There was only one basic thought going through it: Blah der blah—hot man alert—blah.

  He stared at her intently. “What a suprise you ending up here.”

  Rhi wasn’t quite sure what he meant. It was a strange thing to say, and yet he was right. “It certainly is,” she said. For a moment all she could do was lock eyes with him. His stare sucked the air from the space between them and she was left feeling quite dizzy.

  “Are you okay? Perhaps when you bumped your head?”

  Rhi waved away his concerns. “I’m fine. It’s been a big day.”

  “I’ll get out of your way. Take your time to look around.” He turned to go.

  “So you’ll lease the theater to me?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” He pushed the dark waves back off his face. “Don’t mention me being here. We’ll let your application go through the normal channels.”

  “Okay, sure.”

  “Nice to meet you, though.”

  Rhi reached into her purse to get out a business card, but when she looked up, he was gone.

  Chapter 7

  Back in New York, Rhi set about preparing to move. She was surprised to hear that Annie was having problems getting the owner to agree to lease the Majestic; after all, he’d seemed perfectly fine with it when they’d met. But she didn’t mention this to Annie. She didn’t really know why, she just felt she shouldn’t.

  “He’s stubborn,” Annie said. “So we won’t give up just yet.”

  “What’s his name?” asked Rhi.

  “William,” Annie said evasively. She didn’t offer his surname. “I’ll let you know when I hear more.”

  “Thanks, Annie.”

  Rhi got on with making plans. She knew it was a crazy thing to do: to move to a town she’d spent one night in and rent an old theater she’d seen once. Yet it felt right, in every cell, every atom of her being. She tried not to think about what would happen if William decided he didn’t want to lease it to her.

  She also tried to not think about his dark, brooding eyes and full lips. His broad chest had nothing to do with her growing desire to move to Hamlet. Sure, he was sexy, and there had been some undeniable chemistry between them, but that had nothing to do with her feelings for the theater. She was excited about the idea of reopening the theater and of creating work for like-minded people.

  She met an old friend for lunch. John had been working his way through the ranks for years, until he finally cracked it when he was named artistic director of the Carousel Theater, one of the most successful venues Off-Broadway. She needed to pick his brains. She’d trained as an actress and she had her degree and years of experience working in theater, but she was still making her way through foreign territory.

  “I wanted to run some ideas past you. Let me know if you think I’m nuts,” Rhi said.

  John gave his beanie a tug and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Okay, deal.”

  “I’m going to rent a theater in Massachusetts.”

  “You’re nuts.”

  “Okay, now I want you to tell me I can do it.”

  “You’re nuts.”

  “Love the support.”

  “Give me the rundown.”

  “I found an amazing abandoned theater. Great building, wonderful theater space, two rehearsal studios, the whole place has been vacant for thirty years so needs some renovations, but the basics are solid.”

  She had his attention. “Keep going.”

  “I want to form a theater company, and I’ve been looking at traditional non-profit models, but I’m thinking of trying something different.” She sipped her coffee. “I need to create a viable business first. The space is the business. It can generate an income. I can lease that and I’ll open a drama school—”

  “For adults?”

  “Kids. I’ve taught those summer drama camps for the past few years and I love it. I really enjoy teaching children.”

  “Each to their own.” It was clear he’d rather pass kidney stones. “How else can the space generate income?”

  “I’ll lease out the studios, the hall…other companies can perform there.”

  “And your company? The one this theater will house?”

  “I’m working it out.”

  “Community or professional?

  “Professional.”

  “Profit or non-profit?”

  “Profit, for now. I can change to non-profit later. From what I understand there’s so much paperwork, and I wouldn’t be in a position for any grants yet.”

  “You need to make sure the mission statement for any theater company is clear. A lot will depend on that. What type of plays you intend to produce. How collaborative the structure is.” John leaned across the table. He was clearly interested. “How will it pay for itself initially?”

  “I’ll make a personal loan to the theater. I’ll also look into local funding opportunities.”

  “So basically, you start a business?”

  “The theater. Correct.”

  “Then using your own business, you house a professional theater company?”

  “Right, and while I’m not yet sure of the structure, I do know it needs to start small. Two shows in the first twelve months. But everyone gets paid properly.”

  John slapped the table. “I’m jealous.”

  “Get out of here. You’ve got a great job.”

  “I do. But I answer to a lot of people. This is exciting, Rhi—big, but exciting.”

  “Thank you. I really appreciate your support.”

  “Hopefully I can support in other ways too. I’d love to come up and see the place. Perhaps I can do a residency there once you’re up and running? Or the Carousel can bring a show to you. I can certainly send good designers and directors up to work.”

  “That’s wonderful. Thank you.”

  “What are friends for?”

  Rhi paid the check and they said their farewells on the sidewalk.

  “I’m proud
of you, Rhi. I know it hasn’t always been easy for you to get work.”

  “That will change now.” Rhi gave him a cheeky grin. “I’ll cast myself in everything.”

  John gave her a hug. “Why else own a theater, deary!”

  Rhi watched as he walked off. In her heartbreak over Victoria and Chandra she’d forgotten that she actually had some very good friends in New York she could always rely on.

  She turned and headed in the opposite direction, walking the four blocks home to Finn’s along 8th Street, past Tompkins Square Park. It was a cold day, but the sun was shining and the piles of snow still on the ground were melting fast. There were certain things she’d miss about New York. Central Park in summer—well, all year round, but mainly summer. The bagel guy at Union Square. Baxter’s on Ludlow Street where Taran and Finn met her for drinks each month. Her brothers. She would miss her brothers.

  She’d crossed the street and was heading up the stairs of Finn’s brownstone when she heard the voice.

  “Rhiannon.”

  Rhi paused, turning slowly. Victoria stood at the foot of Finn’s stairs. Her normally beautiful brunette hair was unwashed. She was wearing expensive clothes and a Burberry jacket but everything looked slightly disheveled.

  “You haven’t returned my calls.”

  Rhi didn’t say anything, her mouth set in a line that spoke volumes instead.

  Victoria shrugged. “You have to forgive me at some stage.”

  “That stage is not now, Victoria.”

  Victoria started to cry. “Don’t cut me off like this.”

  Rhi braced herself and prayed that Victoria wouldn’t cause a scene. She hated that she felt sorry for her old friend, despite the betrayal. She wanted to give in and erase the past few weeks, but she couldn’t. Doing so would be enabling Victoria’s recent behavior: not only hurting Rhi, but also the drinking and partying and her careless attitude toward everything of any meaning. She needed to take responsibility for herself. Until that moment, Rhi didn’t want to see her. She wanted to forgive her. More than that, she wanted to forget what she’d done. But that was impossible.

  “Vic, you’ve broken my heart. Everything has changed. I don’t know what the future holds—”

  “Of course you do. You’re a witch.”

  “I’m not ready for this.”

  “When will you be?”

  “I don’t know.” Rhi felt her phone buzz. She pulled it from her pocket to read the text: The Majestic is yours. Call me when you can. Annie. xo

  The whole world, in that instant, changed. Rhi looked up.

  Victoria wiped the tears and smudged mascara from under her eyes. “Perhaps we can meet for lunch in a few weeks once things have settled down?”

  Rhi was so elated that she almost threw her arms around Victoria. Victoria seemed to sense the shift, and it surprised her.

  “You’ll meet me for lunch?”

  “I can’t,” Rhi said. “I’m moving.”

  “You’ve found a new apartment?”

  “No. I found a new life.”

  Chapter 8

  Brigid and Lugh Dee sat at each end of the table like the lord and lady they fashioned themselves after. Their children—their most loyal subjects—ate in silence as they listened to their parents relate fantastic tales of who they’d met and what they’d done recently. Autograph hunters, fans and the occasional evangelical regularly interrupted the meal. Brigid and Lugh treated everyone who approached with equal friendliness and respect.

  “Turn away from the devil,” hissed one woman, her hand tightly clasped around her frightened daughter’s arm.

  Brigid sighed. “He’s one of yours. Witches don’t believe in the devil.”

  “You worship Satan.”

  “My wife only worships George Clooney,” Lugh said gently, as if talking to a child.

  “May God save your souls,” the woman muttered as she scurried away.

  “I’m sure she will. Thanks for dropping by,” Brigid called after her and then turning to her husband. “What a formative experience for her daughter.”

  “She’ll smoke dope and study Buddhism later in life,” Lugh assured his wife.

  Rhi pushed her plate away, her appetite ruined. Eating out with her parents was the best way to control her weight.

  Brigid leaned back in her chair and stared at her. “Chandra wasn’t able to join us tonight?”

  “No.”

  “Is he working?”

  “I have no idea. We broke up.”

  Her mother raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows. “I see. Well…he’d become a real asshole, hadn’t he.” It was a statement not a question.

  “I guess so.”

  “But an important pit-stop for you,” offered her father. “What have you learned from it, darling?”

  “That I prefer Pilates.”

  “He’s actually a very good yoga teacher. Just a shitty boyfriend,” Finn said.

  Taran rolled his eyes at his twin. “He’s such a tool, he belongs at Home Depot.”

  Rhi looked at her brothers and, not for the first time, marveled at the sheer sight of them. Finn and Taran were three years older. Their faces, their features, their soulful blue eyes, were the impossible to tell apart, but while Finn was as blond and bright as a sunny day, Taran had jet black hair and moods to match. Finn was like their father and drew people in with kindness and compassion while Taran was like their mother, cynical and wild, a human bug zapper, impossible to resist but watch out if you got too close. Finn saw the good in everyone, even his difficult twin. Taran roared through life like the thunder god he was named after. While Finn was always willing to forgive, Rhi knew that Taran would run Chandra down if he had half a chance.

  Taran leaned back in his chair. “I always thought he was gay.”

  “I can assure you, I caught him in a position that would prove otherwise.”

  Taran’s eye narrowed. “You caught him with someone else?”

  Rhi nodded. “Victoria.”

  “Vicky De Whittaker?” Lugh looked horrified. “She’s your best friend.”

  “Apparently she didn’t get that memo.” Rhi took a sip of Cristal, her parent’s staple drink.

  “She’s got the loyalty of a stray dog.” Taran looked thunderous. “I can’t believe she did that to you.”

  “Imagine hurting someone like that,” Finn said, casually pouring another drink.

  Taran glanced at his brother, a shadow crossing his face before he turned his attention back to Rhi. “You are so much better than both of them.”

  “Well, darling, out with the old, in with the new,” announced Brigid, holding her glass high.

  Lugh lifted his own glass and winked at his wife. “Miss one bus, catch the next.”

  They smiled at each other, silently acknowledging how relieved they were that they would never again have to take public transport.

  Brigid turned her attention back to her daughter. “So what are your plans now?”

  Rhi thought about the contracts she had signed just two days earlier. “You owe me a drink when you move here,” Annie had said when Rhi phoned after receiving her text.

  “I owe you more than one drink. I really appreciate the effort, Annie.”

  “You’ve got me all caught up in this hare-brained idea of yours. Besides, we need some new young blood in town. So the Majestic is yours to rent. Any renovations are yours. He’s agreed on a five-year contract. At the end of the five years, if all goes well, he will consider selling.”

  “But what if I renovate and he sells to someone else?”

  “Won’t happen. You have first option to buy in the contract.”

  Rhi felt breathless. There was no turning back now. “How did you talk him into it? I thought it was impossible.”

  “As you said, nothing is impossible…except that Elvis thing. Anyway, can you come up next week and sign the contracts? I’ll also show you a house then.”

  “How’s Monday?”

  “Perfect. I�
��ll see you when you get here.”

  “Okay. And Annie…thank you.”

  Rhi tossed the rest of her Champagne back for courage and smiled first at her mother, then her father. This wasn’t going to be easy. Her mother hated people making plans without her involvement—her approval. She was the ultimate control freak. Rhi glanced at Finn for support and he gave her a gentle nod.

  “I’ve decided to leave New York for a while.”

  Brigid clapped her bejeweled hands together. “Oh, lovely! Travel always heals the heart, doesn’t it, Lugh? Where will you go, sweetheart? Paris, London? Berlin is always fun.” She tapped a cigarette out of her pack and waited for Lugh to light it.

  “I’m going to Hamlet.”

  Lugh pulled a vintage Cartier lighter out of his pocket and fired up the cigarette, the only thing he disliked about his wife. “Excellent! I didn’t realize it was back on Broadway.”

  “No, Hamlet, Massachusetts.”

  Silence fell over the table as Brigid stared at Rhi. She took a deep drag on her cigarette and then stubbed it out. She never had more than one or two puffs. Then she deftly patted her hair down. She never went into an argument looking anything but immaculate. “Weren’t you up that way for a wedding recently?”

  “Yes. And on the way home I stumbled across a charming little town called Hamlet and have decided to move there,” explained Rhi.

  Finn motioned for another bottle of Cristal, figuring his parents would need it. “I think this calls for a celebration.” He didn’t let on that he’d been privy to his sister’s plans. “It’s wonderful news, Rhi.”

  “Yes, fabulous.” Taran chuckled. He relaxed back with a grin on his face and prepared to watch the show. For once it wasn’t him shaking things up.

  Brigid smiled and spoke to Rhi as one would a child. “You can’t possibly move there.”

  Rhi didn’t take her eyes off her mother’s. She was determined not to back down. “Why not?”