by Jane Tara
Tye took the meals out and placed them on the table, and then pulled up a chair. Let the struggle begin.
Chapter 30
“Well, what do you think?”
Taran looked down at Rhi’s eager face. “I love it.”
“Really? You really like it?” All of a sudden Rhi desperately needed Taran’s approval—his confirmation that the theater was indeed as amazing as she believed it was.
Taran sat on the edge of the stage. “Would I lie to you?”
Rhi knew she was the one woman on earth he wouldn’t lie to. “It inspired me. One look and I just knew, Taran. It’s like it speaks to me.”
“I know Mom expects you to scamper back to New York, tail between your legs, soon. And while I never envisioned a tail…I must admit I thought she might be right.”
“What! You traitor.”
Taran laughed. “I know, I’m sorry. Believe me, I’d much prefer to never agree with her on anything, but this adventure of yours is quite extreme. I didn’t understand it really. Until now. I get it, Rhi. I see it. I get it. And I really think you’re going to succeed.”
Rhi bit back tears. His support meant everything to her.
“As for this place.” Taran did a full turn and scanned the auditorium. “It’s missing something.”
Rhi watched him closely. He had that look—the look that anyone who’d ever watched him work knew well. He stood and walked to the wall and ran his long fingers along the fresh paint.
“The Greeks, theaters, playwrights, an explosion of imagination and politics and sharing of ideas. Masks. Movement. Theater around the world. The Globe, Elizabethan England, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the forest, Puck’s forest, filled with magic, creatures of the night, of other realms, darkness and light, watching, protecting this space without ever overtaking it.”
Rhi had crept up beside him, listening, riding the wave of his imagination. She slipped her hand into his and together they stared at the wall that was already filled with his images.
“You’d paint here, Taran? You’d really do that?”
“I have to now. Once it exists in my mind it needs to exist on a wall, on a canvas…I have to, Rhi.” He swung his head around and scanned the rest of the space. “I thought you’d gone mad moving here, Rhi. Now I understand. There’s life in this place. It’s inspiring.”
“It’s haunted, you know.”
Taran grinned and slung an arm around Rhi’s shoulders as he led her to the door. “Of course it is, sis. No self-respecting theater is complete without a ghost.”
“I’m serious. It’s really haunted.”
“Like Casper the Ghost haunted, some cute little poltergeist moving shit around? Or seriously haunted, with spinning heads and blood coming down the walls and creepy twins?”
“Haunted as in me!” boomed a voice from behind them.
Taran jumped back. “Christ!”
“No…although I did play him once in a Christmas play.”
Taran blinked a few times, which made Rhi laugh. He’d never been a huge fan of ghosts.
“And this is?”
Taran stepped forward to meet Kip. “Taran Dee. Rhi’s brother.”
Kip’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Same mother?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Curious, that’s all.”
“And your name is?”
“Kip Daniels. I own this place.”
“Actually, Tad owns it.” Rhi turned to Taran. “Tad’s his son. I rented this from him.”
Kip smiled at Rhi, teasing her. “She also has a little bit of a crush on him.”
“Oh, will you shut up.”
“Well, you do.”
“Whatever.” Rhi laughed.
“And he looks just like me—”
“Yes, apart from the dead thing, you can’t tell them apart.”
“You couldn’t.”
“Thanks to your dazzling.”
Taran watched the conversation between Rhi and Kip as if he were watching a tennis match.
“This is weird,” he said.
“I find it refreshing,” Kip said. “So did I hear something about you being an artist?
“Taran’s an amazing artist, Kip, and he’s going to paint a mural on the wall.”
“Oh, here we go. Spray cans? Cheap acrylics?”
Taran raised an eyebrow. “The National Theater in Berlin has one of my murals on the wall, as does the Chicago Opera.”
Kip looked impressed. “That’s a relief. You’re a real artist. I was just checking that Rhi wasn’t giving a sympathy job to an out-of-work sibling.”
Taran looked at Rhi and she shrugged. “I know, I know—the scary Exorcist-type ghost would be easier.”
“Yes, instead you got the ghost who actually gives a damn about art and theater. Now that’s never been done before.”
Taran scraped his hair back off his face. “That was The Ghost and Mrs Muir.”
“He was a sea captain, Taran. Hardly an esthete.” Kip gave Taran the once over again. “I’ll see you around, Taran.” And he was gone.
Taran looked at Rhi. “Did someone spike my coffee?”
Rhi shrugged. “It’s an unusual situation.”
“Is it true about his son?”
Rhi picked up her purse and led Taran toward the door. “I was very confused for a while…made a complete ass of myself in front of Tad, thinking we’d met here in the theater. They’re identical, Taran.”
Taran stood on the theater steps while Rhi locked the doors. “Like those scary twins in The Shining?”
“Yes, that identical. Not quite as terrifying though. Kip’s harmless. He was killed here at the theater and has been stuck ever since.”
“And his son?”
Rhi felt the heat rise on her cheeks. “He thinks I’m crazy.”
Taran gave her a playful punch on the arm. “You are crazy. But delightfully so.”
“No, really crazy. He’s threatened to dissolve my lease.”
“That’s harsh. Any point me painting a mural then?”
Rhi gave her brother a look of steel. “He’ll be taking this place over my dead body. You paint, I’ll deal with this.”
“Yes mam.” Taran gave her a peck on the cheek. “I dig it when you get all tough. It suits you.”
“Thanks. So what do you think of Hamlet?”
“I think it’s a bizarre little place. Ghosts, probable legal battles, and you’ve got some hot friends. I’m more than happy to stick around.”
Chapter 31
Rhi had her first potential rental for the theater. She’d received a phone call from Nathan Parker, the head of drama at Harris Valley High, about twenty miles north. A fire had gutted the school’s auditorium and they were looking for an alternative venue for their school production of Hairspray.
“It runs over four nights, but we’d also book it for a week of rehearsals beforehand, including dress rehearsal,” Nathan explained. “It’s a fabulous show. Wait till you see it.”
“I’ll show you the rehearsal studios first.” Rhi led Nathan into the theater, but just as they hit the base of the steps she saw Kip standing at the top, glaring down at them. Boo, he mouthed at her.
She quickly steered Nathan in the opposite direction. “Second thoughts, let’s check out the theater first.” She guided him over to the theater doors but before she could reach out to open them, they opened themselves.
Nathan jumped twenty feet. “Jesus, Mary, Lucifer.”
“Oh for—I should have warned you, Nathan. There’s an unusual amount of hot air in this theater and sometimes it blows the doors open. Gave me an awful fright the first time too.”
“I’ve heard stories about this place being haunted.”
Rhi threw her head back and laughed, three years of drama training worth every cent. “Haunted! Aren’t people funny—the stories they make up! Believe me, if this place was haunted, I’d know.”
A massive thump from above.
“Squirrels in the roo
f,” Rhi explained. “Whole family of them.”
“I met that actor you know, only once…the one who died here. Lovely man.”
“Word has it he starred in porn films.” Rhi spoke in a stage whisper.
Nathan’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. “Oh my, really? I thought he was a serious actor.”
“Yeah, seriously perverted. Google the Altar Boy series…they might not sell it any more, but it was definitely him.”
Rhi could see Nathan mentally jotting that one down. Then he took one sweeping look at the theater and said, “This looks fine. It’s a school play and we need the space, so let’s book it.”
Rhi noticed Kip standing at the side of the wings. She grabbed Nathan’s arm and led him swiftly from the theater, something she had a feeling poor Nathan was grateful for.
Outside, he confirmed the dates and she promised to invoice the school, and then she waved him off with a huge smile on her face. A smile that disappeared the minute he’d gone.
“Get your dead ass out here,” she bellowed as she stormed back into the theater.
“I’m here.” Kip was sitting in the foyer, reading a magazine.
“I need this theater to be a success. You can’t scare everyone.”
“He’s easily scared.” Kip flicked over a page. “Porn, hey? Nice one.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I thought it was funny.” He thrust a magazine at Rhi and pointed to a photo of Demi Moore. “She used to be my favorite actress. What does she look like today?”
“That is her today.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. She looks exactly the same. This magazine must be twenty years old.” He turned it over to check the date. “It’s this year. How does she do that?”
“You have so much to learn.”
“She’s scarier than me.”
“What am I going to do with you, Kip?”
“The last time a woman asked that I ended up covered in whipped cream.”
“You’re bored.”
“Only for the past twenty-five years. The first couple of years I was dead I was just confused.”
“Perhaps…I could give you a job.”
Kip rolled his eyes. “I’d make a fabulous ghost writer.”
“I’m serious. You’re bored. You need a job.”
Kip looked offended. “What as? Front of house? Perhaps I could show people to their seats?”
“It was just a suggestion.”
“I’m an actor.”
“I get that. But you were more than that too. You did exactly what I’m doing thirty years ago. You left New York and renovated this place with your own blood, sweat and tears. I’m following your path here.”
“You’d better make sure that stage roof is secure then.”
Rhi looked horrified. “That’s not nice. All I’m saying is, perhaps I could learn something from you. You could be my advisor.”
Kip watched her for a moment. “I have no answer for that. Your suggestion makes me want to sob, and yet…it’s oddly appealing.” Kip raised an eyebrow. “What’s the salary?”
“I’ll pay you exactly what I’m paying myself.”
“Fabulous. I’ll be dead and broke. It’s a deal.” He thrust out his hand.
“I’d shake, but I’ve a feeling it would be creepy.”
Kip drew his hand back and they smiled at each other
Rhi put her hands on her hips. “I have work to do.”
Kip copied her. “Me too. Now tell me what it is.”
Rhi thought for a minute and then grabbed her bag and drew out her iPad. She sat down on one of the seats while Kip chose one nearby. “I need to pick your brains.”
“I don’t have any.”
Rhi ignored him and opened her notes. “I heard that you held drama classes here. That’s my plan too. What did you teach the kids?”
“I didn’t teach kids. I don’t like them.”
“You don’t like kids?”
“Not really. Adored my son, quite liked my niece, but other children…meh. I taught adult classes.”
Rhi looked thoughtful. “I should probably offer an adult class too.”
“I had the classes up and running three months before the show. Women came from far and wide for them.”
“What about men?”
“There was one.”
“You only had one male in your class?”
“Teddy Breneger. Does he still own the bakery?”
“Yes. With his boyfriend.” Rhi pulled her hair back and wrapped a band around it. “Were you a real ladies’ man?”
“I had my moments. And then I met my love. Rough start—because of me, not her. But once we got on track, it was grand.”
“Did you have any male friends?”
“A couple. But I was never a sports-and-beer type of guy. I’m fascinated by women.” He moved forward. “I’m quite fascinated by you.”
Rhi held a hand up in front of her face. “You’re not really fishing from a big pond.”
“You’re not the only woman I talk to.”
This surprised Rhi. “Someone else talks to you?”
He retreated to a seat further away from her. “Maybe.”
“Who?”
Kip ran his hand across his lips, as though zipping them.
Rhi pretended she wasn’t interested anyway, and turned her attention back to the iPad. “I notice you’re now acting like a ghost. Drifting around, hovering and all that.”
Suddenly he was hovering above her. “What’s that thing? Is it another phone?”
“It’s an iPad. It does a lot of the same things as my smart phone, but it doesn’t actually phone anyone.”
“So it’s less intelligent.”
Rhi thrust it at him. “It has a lot going for it.”
“And you’re constantly hooked up to these things?”
“They are a big part of our lives now,” Rhi said.
“Scary.”
“You might look my age, but you definitely sound like my father’s generation.”
Kip looked miffed. “So what do you want to know about the classes?”
“Should I ask students to pay annually?”
“They won’t do it. Break it into school semesters. Even for adults.”
“Yeah, good idea.”
“One afternoon a week and Saturday for kids. One evening for the adult classes, but make it the same as the day you teach the monsters. Don’t waste too much time on classes right now, but it can be a solid little money spinner.”
Rhi jotted everything down. “I’m going to put an ad in the Examiner this week. Online editions as well?”
“On what?”
“Do you know nothing of the outside world?”
“The day you walked in was the most exciting thing that has happened to me in nearly thirty years.” He drifted closer to her, not threatening, but simply to be near.
“I know, Kip. I feel for you, I do.”
“I didn’t mean to make a mess of things for you.”
“I know.”
“I’m stuck, Rhiannon.”
“How can I help you?” she asked softly.
“You can’t. No one can. Not even her…not even now she’s back.”
Rhi’s brain started to piece it together. “Your girlfriend visits you?”
He nodded, misery etched across his beautiful features.
She joined the dots quickly. It was impossible to miss. The woman he loved could see him. The woman he loved had looked after his son.
“Crystal.”
Chapter 32
Word had spread that Rhi’s devastatingly handsome brother, a well-known artist in his own right, was painting a mural on the theater wall. Like bees to honey, anyone who was S/F/18–50 took to walking by the theater each day, with freshly baked cookies, or a jug of iced tea. One overeager high school senior started forgetting to put on underwear in the morning, until her father caught wind of her plan—or should that be, the wind caught hold of her
skirt? Taran became the talk of Hamlet and a Mecca for all females.
All apart from one.
Tye had no idea why she was so wary of him. Really, she should be thrilled that the guy from her dreams had finally shown up. But as much as his physical appearance was slightly off, so were her feelings for him. Yes, he was hot. But he wasn’t right. And he was definitely dangerous.
To be fair to Taran, he wasn’t exactly using his sex symbol status to his advantage. He was clearly aware of his affect on the female of the species, and reveled in this magnetism whenever it suited his purposes. But he was more focussed on his work, and the women—even pretty blonds carrying warm, buttery cookies, sexy divorcees or pantless high school prom queens—didn’t seem to interest him. Dressed in baggy shorts and a T-shirt, Taran worked with an intensity more suited to brain surgery. Tye recognized his passion as he painted, the images in his head making an urgent and howling exit onto the wall via his brush. She was the same when she wrote music.
Tye couldn’t escape him completely. She stopped meeting Rhi at the theatre, but she couldn’t stop Taran coming into the shop.
“You should drop by and see my mural.” Taran rubbed a splatter of paint off his hand, leaned back in his chair and stretched his muscular arms.
“I hear you have enough interruptions over there.” Tye placed his coffee on the table.
“You wouldn’t be an interruption.”
“Maybe I’ll drop by some time.”
“I’m going to take you out to dinner.” On anyone else, such arrogance would have sounded ridiculous. On Taran it sat well. He didn’t need to ask a question, just make a statement.
“No. I can’t.”
If he was surprised he didn’t show it. “Why not?”
“I have plans tonight.”
“I didn’t mean tonight.”
“Then I have plans every night.”
“So change them.”
Tye was tempted for a moment, but that moment quickly passed. “What do you want?”
“The coffee’s fine.”
“I mean from me.”
This seemed to throw him for a moment. “Do I need to know?”
“With me, yes. I’m not blind, Taran. You’re an attractive guy. But I’m waiting for someone who knows immediately what I will be to them.”