by Petrova, Em
Mary refused to let go of the light. “I’ve got this. You can’t just come in here and move things around. How are the kids going to know where they need to stand or move? If the spots aren’t right, the actor might be poorly lit during pivotal scenes, like when Mame comes home after her husband passes away. Lighting is critical in that scene.”
With a mighty jerk, Sarah wrestled the light from Mary’s death-grip, making Mary’s eyes widen and mouth pop open to an O. She set it on the floor and faced Mary. The woman’s hair stuck up as though she’d run her fingers through it repeatedly. She resembled Albert Einstein, only unhinged, instead of kindly and intelligent. Sarah had run into this version of Mary in the past. It appeared someone was off her medication.
The bell signaling the end of the school day rang. The student actors would show up soon. Sarah had to do something to get Mary out before they arrived. As much for Mary’s sake as for the kids. They didn’t need to see a teacher, any teacher, mentally distraught.
Sarah eased her tone toward calm and placating. She rested her hand on Mary’s forearm. “You do remember you resigned as director three weeks ago, don’t you?”
Mary’s face blanked, as if someone had simply turned out a light. “I did?” She tapped her fingers together in front of nose, her eyes darting from side to side. “I did, didn’t I? I was angry because of creative differences with Stuart Ashton. Oh, I was very mad at him.”
Okay, good. Not too far gone. “Yes, you were. But I saw you two together in the teachers’ lunchroom yesterday, so you must have mended those fences.”
“Oh, yes! We’re getting along very well now. May I come back as director? Please?”
Wouldn’t that be lovely? It would certainly free up more time for Sarah to spend with Cris. But it would result in upheaval and confusion for the students. That was the last thing she needed. At some point, she’d make her own desires a priority. But not today.
Shaking her head sadly, Sarah tried to explain why. “Mary, I think it would be rough on the kids to switch directors at this point. The show opens next week. Let’s leave things as they are for now, shall we? You can come back for the next production. What do you say?”
Mary bopped her head up and down rapidly. It reminded Sarah of a bird in a nest. “That would be lovely, dear.” She smoothed the fabric of her colorful top over her hips and took a step away. She gestured to the jumbled lights. “I’m sorry about this. I haven’t been myself lately. I...I got confused.”
Sarah decided it was time to talk to Tom Edwards about requiring a mandatory medical exam for the woman. She’d always been short-tempered and combative, but this confusion was new. It could be a symptom of something more serious than a case of bad personality. “It’s okay, Mary. You should get some rest.”
Sarah led Mary to the other side of the curtain and watched the woman lumber down the steps. The door at the top of the auditorium opened as Mary made her way up the aisle. Sarah squinted to see who walked in, but the backlighting made it difficult. She could only tell that two more people had entered. She was never going to get this inventory done.
The two newcomers exchanged greetings with Mary as she made her way past them out the exit. They’d almost reached the stage when Sarah recognized Sam. Kit limped at his side, hop-stepping up the stairs, uneven footsteps echoing in the cavernous space.
Sam jerked his thumb toward Mary’s retreating figure. “What was that about?”
“A little misunderstanding.” Sarah replied. “Hello, Kit. How’s the ankle?”
Kit darted a glance toward Sam before answering. “Better.”
“Good.” Sarah propped her hands on her hips and eased her weight to one side. “So what brings you gentlemen here this afternoon?”
“Kit would like to help with the set. I understand he’s a great artist and might be pretty awesome at painting flats. We finished building them and installing the casters yesterday. They are ready to be transformed to magnificent backdrops. Let’s put him to work.”
The man always championed the underdog and helped his students however he could. As a teacher, he was a favorite among the students. This was just like him, to try to help someone fit in. It was what Sam was best at. The kids liked and confided in him whenever they had troubles. She’d worked with him to help many teenagers out of a jam, but she hadn’t mentioned her recently redecorated fence to anyone.
Kit’s eyes were downcast. Sarah kept her face neutral as she tipped a glance toward Sam. What did he know? Didn’t really matter—she trusted Sam to do what was right for the student. “With opening night less than a week away, we can use all the extra hands we can get. Glad to have the help, Kit.”
A smug, satisfied smile etched dimples into Sam’s cheeks. A bit of humor sparked in his blue-green eyes. “Perfect. I’ll show Kit what he needs to do, but then I’ve got to go to a parent meeting. Do you mind checking on his progress in a while?”
“Sure thing. I need to work on the prop inventory, so I’ll be around.” She glanced at the illuminated clock over the sound booth at the back of the room. “Rehearsal starts in twenty minutes, so I’ll let you get to it. Kit, if you need anything, holler. And thanks for volunteering to help. We’re sure to have professional quality scenes with your skills.”
Even in the dim light, Sarah was able to detect color flooding into Kit’s cheeks. “Do my best,” he mumbled.
Sam led him away to put him to work. Sarah followed them behind the curtain, then stepped to the side. When she pressed a switch on the wall, the curtains swept open, spreading light into the darkened theater. She retrieved the clipboard she’d dropped in her confrontation with Mary. After pulling her cell phone from her pocket, she accessed her music program and selected the 80s station she loved. She turned up the volume, laid the phone on the table, and paused as a U2 song began to play. The band might not have found what they were looking for, but Sarah was pretty sure she had. She laughed softly when she realized she hadn’t even known she was looking for something...someone. But she’d found it in Cris.
She angled her head and listened while watching Sam explain to Kit what to do. Kit’s expression was animated as he paid attention, asking questions and waving his arm at the plain white mobile structures Sam and his crew had manufactured. Sam handed the youth a piece of paper and a paint roller. He pulled a pencil from his pocket and scrawled something across the top of the paper while Kit stood rolling the handle between his fingers. Clapping him on the shoulder, Sam waved at the flat panel, smiled at Kit, then sauntered back in Sarah’s direction.
“He’ll be busy for a while,” Sam said as he approached. “There are six of them to whitewash front and back. We’ll start turning them into scenery tomorrow while no one is around for rehearsal. We won’t be in your way.”
“Sam?” Sarah stopped his departure. “Did Kit ask to get involved, or did you persuade him?”
He shoved his fist into a pocket. “He asked. He mentioned some atoning he needed to do and hoped he could make amends this way.”
“Did he tell you how he sprained his ankle?”
“He did.” He shot a glance toward Kit, who balanced on one leg on a ladder, dragging a paint roller over the panel farthest from where she and Sam stood. “For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing by not calling the authorities. He messed up. It’s good he wants to make it right with you.”
“His dad seemed pretty grateful as well. He came to repaint the fence on Saturday, but I decided to leave it alone. Kit is seriously talented. And he’s a nice kid. So is his dad.” She ended on a soft sigh.
Sam tilted his head and stared at her. “Am I reading something into your tone, Ms. Willis?” His smile said he was teasing, but his voice held a note of concern. He’d been at the fish fry when she’d been branded a whore by her ex.
Damn, she hadn’t meant to spill the beans. But she knew Sam could keep a secret. U2 gave way to Tears For Fears and she clutched the clipboard against her chest. “Maybe. I’m kind of seeing Cri
s.”
“Pippa might have mentioned that to me. Sounds like you and Cris got worked out whatever it was that needed working out.” He grinned at her, his white, even teeth flashing in the dim lighting. “He’s a great guy. Really knows his stuff. He pointed out a way to make the lighting more efficient on stage when he finished his inspection the other day. You could do worse.” He paused. “How are you handling the fact that his kid is a student here?”
“I’m not sure Kit knows anything yet. It’s still early in the relationship. Don’t even know if it will go anywhere.” But she dared to dream.
He nodded. “Ah, a bridge to cross when you come to it. I have to get going. I’ll check back in after my meeting.” He tossed his hand up in a wave as he sprinted across the stage. The steps rattled as he descended. He raced up the aisle.
She walked over to the shelving unit where the props they’d collected had been stored. She compared the notes on the inventory sheet to the materials on the shelf, losing herself in the details as music played in the background and the smell of fresh paint filled the air.
She’d been working quietly for several minutes when music gave way to the ringing of her phone. Tossing her list to the shelf, she hurried to the table. A quick glance at the display revealed it was Cris. Her heart sped up as she swept up the phone, sliding her finger over the answer button.
“Hello.” Her voice came out in a breathless rush.
“I have a proposition for you.” Cris launched right into the conversation. “Oh, and hello, gorgeous.”
She gave a short laugh. “I’m intrigued.” She twisted so her back faced Kit. “Shoot.”
“I have to go to Providence for a meeting tomorrow afternoon. I was thinking...would you like to go with me? We could get a hotel near the harbor, have a nice dinner, and spend the night together.” As he issued the invitation, his baritone voice sent tingles along her spine until they took up residence between her legs.
A night in a hotel with him sounded like heaven. But reason reared its ugly head. “What about Kit?”
“He’s planning to stay overnight with a buddy of his from his science class. They have some project to work on, then they’re going to catch a science fiction movie. He probably won’t even miss me. Say yes, Sarah.”
An entire night wrapped in his arms without any interruptions. A chance for real intimacy instead of settling for stolen moments. “Yes!” It was an easy decision. “But I have to be back by noon on Sunday. We have a full rehearsal starting at three.”
“You’ve made me a very happy man.”
She hid the smile behind her hand, her lips curving happily against her palm.
“Hey, do you know anything about a student named Alex Murray? That’s who Trip is staying with tomorrow.”
“Alex is a good kid. Studious, goal oriented. Good parents.” And that was high praise for a student as far as Sarah was concerned. She lowered her voice. “Did you know Kit is working on the play now? He told Sam he wanted to help with the sets. He’s here right now.” She glanced over her shoulder to find Kit had moved to the backside of the flat he was painting. He didn’t appear to be paying any attention to her.
Cris swore softly. “I’d hope to sway him toward academic clubs to get involved. Sarah, I don’t know that I want him working on anything that draws on his artistic side. It’s just...” He let his comments die.
“Cris, the kind of work he’ll be doing isn’t really artistic. He’ll help build the scenery.” Sarah hoped to reassure Cris that working on the play wouldn’t drive Kit into the deep end. “But did you know that many brilliant people indulge their creative side in order to develop alternative ways when looking for solutions? It’s okay to be creative.”
“I probably worry too much. I’m grateful you’re there to help guide him.”
His words warmed her insides, the glow spreading through her entire frame.
They finalized plans for the coming day. Sarah had just hung up as the actors began trickling in, some carrying book bags, others sacks of fast food. Looked like the inventory would have to wait until after practice.
Pippa came careening up the stage steps, scooting around a group of students with a harried smile. “Sorry, I’m late. I had to drop the kids at Mom’s, and Mason insisted I stay while he told his story about the class hamster for the umpteenth time.” She plopped her messenger bag on the table with a thud. While she unbuckled the straps, she peered at Sarah. “You look...good heavens, you are radiant. You know that, right? Something’s going on in your life. Dare I hope something...sexy? Oh, I live vicariously through you.”
Despite her lowered voice, Sarah shot a quick glance toward Kit. It wouldn’t do for him to catch on to their conversation. The boy continued to roll paint on the plywood form in front of him, grinning at something one of the other students clustered near him had said.
She shot her attention back to Pip. “You could dare to hope. But why live through me? I’ve met your husband. He’s served with a side of sexy.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Pip sighed. Soft, dreamy light filled her eyes. She gave herself a little shake. “So, what’s going on with you and Cris?”
“First days are the best days. But can I tell you later?” Sarah grasped the edge of the table and began dragging it from center stage. “I don’t really want to discuss my personal life in front of students. We need to get practice underway.”
“Sure. Sorry, I didn’t even think.” Pip took hold of the table and helped shove the heavy beast along.
“His son is over there painting. I really don’t want him, uh...in the loop.” Her words were masked by the noise the table legs made as they scraped across the wooden floor.
Pip swiveled her head toward the back of the stage, her short black hair flaring out with the motion. “Oh, man! Sorry. Do you think he heard?”
“I think my secret is still semi-safe.” She stopped dragging the table and crossed her arms over her chest, fixing a mock scowl on Pippa. “At least from him. But your brother asked me about Cris.”
“Sam did? Darn it! I swore the jerk to secrecy.” Color climbed Pip’s cheeks. “Sorry. But he won’t tell. He never does.”
“I guess the only secret that’s safe is the one you keep completely to yourself.” But where was the fun in that? Sarah lowered her voice and leaned toward her friend. “I’m going to Providence with Cris tomorrow for a date and a night in a ‘fantasy suite.’”
A slow grin spread over Pip’s face, “Oh, Sarah. I’m so happy for you.”
Pip’s smile matched the heady anticipation flaring like skyrockets through Sarah. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so...eager.
Chapter Thirteen
The kid knew Cris was planning an overnight trip to Providence and had promised to behave. Funny thing was, he believed Trip would be good. They’d begun talking more lately. It had felt like old times this morning when, over breakfast, they discussed a band Trip really liked. That conversation was far superior to the guttural, monosyllabic answers Cris had grown accustomed to since they’d moved to Granite Pointe. Trip was finally finding his groove...fitting in.
Cris drove Trip to his friend’s house, telling him it was okay to call if he needed anything. Cris stepped into the Murray’s house, introduced himself, and provided a phone number to reach him if needed. Providence was an easy one-hour drive away, so if anything happened, Cris could be home in next to no time.
Given his plans for the evening, he hoped and prayed nothing would happen.
After telling his son to have fun, Cris left to pick up Sarah. He had to concentrate on his speed. The anticipation of spending time with her made him want to press his foot all the way to the floor. Leaves scattered across the pavement in front of the wind as he drove up her street. He pulled into the drive right behind her Camry, braked to a stop, and turned off the ignition. Climbing out of the car, he took a moment to admire Trip’s handiwork on Sarah’s fence. The vibrant art glowed in the mid-morning sunlight.
When Sarah answered the door, he gave up all hope of containing the flames. She looked stunning in pants the color of goldenrod and a black sweater that clung to every curve like it had been licked onto her body. His lungs quit working when he caught sight of her gorgeous smile. He dared to hope she’d never share that grin with any other man. Ever. The need to possess her sexy lips swamped him.
Her brown eyes twinkled. “I’m almost ready. Come on in.” She stood to the side and let him pass.
The instant the door clicked shut behind him, he pivoted. He grabbed her around the waist and backed her against the wall. He settled his lips over hers, hungry for a taste of his version of heaven, the sweet confines of her mouth. Blood surged to his cock as he probed past her lips and slicked his tongue across hers.
She melted against him, draping her arms over his shoulders, spearing her fingers through his hair. Leaning his body hard against hers, he pressed her back and changed the angle of his head for better access to her mouth. He slid his hands from her waist up her ribcage until his fingers touched the underside of her breasts. The sweet mounds filled his palms, and he flexed his fingers on the sides, pressing the orbs together. Damn sweater was getting in the way of his goal to hold and kiss her bare flesh. His cock swelled until it was an iron rod pulsing at the confining fabric of his jeans. He rocked his hips against her pelvis, groaning into her mouth, swallowing her sexy gasp.
Shifting her hands to the side of his face, Sarah nudged him away. In a breathy, sexy voice she asked, “I want you now, Cris. What time do we have to be in Providence?”
Reason crashed over him like a fucking bucket of ice water. Honestly, they should already be on the road. He moved his hands to her waist where his fingers found bare, heated flesh and gusted out a frustrated sigh. He took a pained step away from her luscious body. “Too soon. Not nearly enough time to do everything I want to you. Damn, I should never have kissed you.”