Matinees with Miriam

by Vicki Essex

  She just had to convince town council she could.

  “Priorities,” she said out loud. “I just need to focus on what needs to get done first.”

  She made a list of all the things that had to get done before the theater reopened again. Plumbing in the men’s room. Parts for the projector. Clean and fix the broken seats. Fix the fire door locks. Clean the popcorn machine and soda fountain... The list went on and on. The top two to-dos were enough to make her head pound—it was why she hadn’t addressed them in over four years.

  Her cell phone rang. Shane’s name popped up on the call display, and her heart jumped into her throat.

  Play it cool. She clutched the phone and exhaled. “Hi, Shane. What’s up?”

  “I have something for you. I was going to wait, but I can’t. Can I swing by?”

  Another gift? Her first instinct was to say no, to tell him he’d given her too much already in addition to helping her with the roof repairs, but instead she found herself saying, “I’ll leave the back door unlocked.”

  Twenty minutes later, the perimeter alarm alerted her of his arrival. When she greeted him, he was propping the back door open with a concrete block. “Did the roof leak? I caught the tail end of that storm driving in.”

  “Dry as a bone. I think we got it.”

  “Awesome. Way to go, team!” He held up a hand for a high five. Mira stared, eyebrow rising. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

  She rolled her eyes and slapped his hand awkwardly. He gripped it for a moment, shaking it high in the air as if she were the new reigning champion after three rounds with him. The way their fingers entwined made everything inside her squirm pleasantly. She pulled away quickly. “What did you come by for?”

  “I drove back to New York this morning,” he said. “I remembered something my dad had in his shop that he could never sell. Got a great deal off him for a bunch of other gear, too, and booted it back here.” He disappeared through the doorway and wheeled a dolly in. Several large boxes rested on it. Mira’s jaw slackened as she registered what they were.

  “Before you say no, I’m going to tell you that A, this really did come as a fantastic deal and that we’re doing my father a favor by getting it out of his stockroom. B, it’s not top-of-the-line but I think it’ll work way better than your existing projector. And C, if you don’t like it, we can return it.”

  She stared at the enormous digital projector. It wasn’t quite cinema quality, but it would throw a huge picture up on the canvas. “Are you insane?” Tears of exasperation gathered in her eyes. Projectors like this, even if they were older, retailed in the tens of thousands.

  “Hey, you left me hanging with The Maltese Falcon. I need to watch the rest of it, and you’re right. A DVD played on a laptop won’t cut it.”

  “Shane...”

  “I got some better sound equipment, too.” He patted the boxed speakers. “No offense, but the speakers you’ve got won’t do other movies justice, and I’m thinking we should have an Indiana Jones marathon. It’s been years since I’ve seen those films on the big screen and I had a sudden nostalgic craving since I came back to Everville.”

  “Shane...”

  He clasped his hands in front of him. “Don’t refuse this, please. I drove three hours to Brooklyn and three hours back.” He widened his dark eyes in a puppy-dog plea. “We’ve got to at least watch the rest of Maltese Falcon. Please?”

  Mira tapped her fists against her hips restlessly. It would look pretty cool blown up on the screen. “Well... I suppose as long as it can be returned...”

  He grinned. “So can I set this up now? I mean, unless you’re going to bed...”

  She couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up. “All right,” she relented. The chance to see that monster projector in action was too good to pass up.

  Shane wheeled the dolly into the auditorium while she grabbed rolls of stereo wire and extension cords. The setup was fairly simple. They placed the projector on a caddy nearer the back of the auditorium so that the picture filled the entire screen, then hooked up the speakers to the DVD and Blu-ray player Shane had also brought.

  Mira mentally tallied the net worth of A/V equipment. There was no way she could afford any of it, much less the gas money for Shane’s trip to Brooklyn and back. Surely he knew that. So why had he gone through the effort? Giving her an expensive projector wasn’t likely to push her to sell. If anything, it would make her want to keep the place even more. And if in the end the Crown was sold and torn down, the equipment would go back to Brooklyn.

  Maybe that was the whole point. If it was from his father’s shop, he had nothing to lose. He’d return it with zero issues.

  “Mira?” Shane’s voice brought her out of her thoughts.

  She blinked at him. “Sorry, I was woolgathering.”

  “Well, soon as we get the sound system set up, I guarantee you won’t be able to hear yourself think.” His gleeful smile did a lot to erode her cynicism. He looked like a ten-year-old on Christmas day setting up that massive projector and sound system.

  In short order, Shane popped The Maltese Falcon into the DVD player. The marquee scrolled huge against the screen, blurry at first, but they set the auto focus, fidgeted with the color settings and...

  “Oh, my God.” Mira stared up at the screen, rapt. “It’s huge.”

  “That’s what she said.” Shane snickered. “Just one more thing...” He handed her a large paper bag. “Caramel popcorn. Thought it’d be a nice change from the microwave stuff.”

  Mira’s mouth watered. “You’ve doomed me to a night of heartburn, you realize.”

  He gestured at the seats. “Shall we?”

  They sat in the empty auditorium with the bag of popcorn between them, as well as root beers from Mira’s fridge. After The Maltese Falcon, Mira put in Raiders of the Lost Ark, ostensibly to “test the sound system.” They watched it all the way through.

  “We need one more test,” Shane said as they rummaged through her movie collection. He pulled out Casablanca. “For the true silver screen experience.”

  “It’s past midnight. You sure you’re up for it?”

  “I’m hopped up on sugar and all the caffeine I had on the drive from Brooklyn. I’m going to be awake awhile.”

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Bogart’s face so huge on the screen. She knew the gauzy quality of the old film couldn’t be sharpened by the most expensive of projectors, nor could the state-of-the-art sound system hide all the crackles and pops of a weathered soundtrack. Instead, all the flaws of the golden age of cinema were magnified.

  It didn’t matter to Mira. She let herself be carried away by the heartache and unfairness of a world steeped in war, the struggle between two old lovers whose tie was still strong despite their disparate beliefs and the lengths they were willing to go to protect them.

  The movie wound down to the final goodbye on the airstrip, with Rick ushering Ilsa on her way to a new life, the next fight. No matter how many times she saw it, Mira always teared up at this scene. There was something true, not noble, about how Rick let go of Ilsa in the end. The problems of three little people really didn’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Mira felt as if she’d always understood that, but Bogart’s dry delivery hammered the sentiment home.

  “But what about us?” she whispered along with the soundtrack. She felt the tug on her heart as keenly as if she were the one being torn apart by her love for Rick and her love for Victor and his cause.

  “We’ll always have Paris.”

  The words were spoken close to her ear in a deep, meditative baritone. She turned to find Shane watching her with heavy-lidded eyes. Her heart slugged in her chest, in her ears.

  The music swelled as his lips pulled into a wide, sensuous smile.

  “Here’s looking at yo
u, kid.”

  Mira couldn’t name the impulse that swept through her—maybe some mixture of gratitude, romantic sentiment and loneliness—but she let it guide her as she curved one hand around his rough jaw and pressed her lips to his.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SHANE’S LIPS WERE soft and tasted of caramel popcorn and root beer. He inhaled sharply at first, and Mira pulled away a little, afraid she’d shocked him. She’d surprised herself—she’d never initiated intimacy with her ex-boyfriend, Tom. She’d certainly never pictured this was where she and Shane Patel would end up, either. She started to pull away, mortified, but then he tugged her closer, angling his mouth to deepen the kiss.

  Oh. Oh.

  He glided his fingertips along her neck and into her hairline, cupping her chin briefly, and then cradling the back of her head as if he were holding something precious. She breathed deep, wondering if at any moment he’d push her away in disgust, contempt, shock or fear. It didn’t happen. Part of her knew she should stop, but she couldn’t. His lips were soft, drugging, firm, sure. She hated that she was so weak.

  When his tongue tentatively touched hers, heat surged through her blood. Her fingers curled into his soft T-shirt, brushing against the fine hairs along his muscular arms. Goose bumps pebbled his skin.

  Finally, he broke away with a gasp. Mira’s swollen lips buzzed.

  “I think I found my new favorite film.” His chuckle reverberated through her core. He dipped his head and gave her the briefest of pecks on the lips, as if he were reminding himself of how she tasted. “Is it wrong that I’ve wanted to do that since I first met you?”

  She stuttered out a laugh. “Considering I shot you in the nuts, yes.”

  “Maybe I’m a masochist.” He traced her face with light fingertips.

  She sighed, unable to ignore her doubts. “What are we doing, Shane?”

  “I thought that was obvious.”

  “I mean, what are we doing together? I want to believe you’re just trying to seduce me so I’ll sell the Crown. But...” She hesitated, realizing that admitting the truth would be giving up something of value. “I’m not sure I actually believe it.”

  He met her eyes, frowning. “It’s not like that. I mean, at first I thought that was what I’d do.” He scrubbed his jaw. Mira felt a sting to her pride, but didn’t interrupt him. “I’m ashamed to admit that. But... I really do like you. Everything I’ve done up to this point... I wanted to get close to you to understand why you’d hang on to a decrepit old building. But I think I’m starting to get it now. There’s...for lack of a better word, magic here. I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s the same way I feel about this town.”

  She smiled a little sadly. Just because he understood didn’t mean she’d swayed him to her thinking. “Where does that leave us?”

  “I’m not sure.” His eyes slid to the screen as if he might find answers scrolling with the end credits. “This kind of complicates things, doesn’t it?”

  “No kidding.” And yet, all she wanted to do was kiss him again. He traced the lines on her palms, studying the calluses like a map to her soul. The longer he did it, the more lost she felt. “I don’t suppose you can put your condo elsewhere.”

  “It’s not that simple. We already own the buildings on either side of the Crown. And we can’t build around the theater.”

  “So we’re back to square one.” She drew away, but her hands stayed couched in his. “I can’t give up this place, Shane. It’s all I have left of my grandfather.”

  “Your grandfather sounds like he was a great guy. But for what you’d get for the building, I don’t think he would’ve disapproved.” He massaged her palms, smiling. “You could even buy one of the new condo units and still be close to him. I could get you a good deal.”

  Disappointment lanced through her sharply. “Seriously?” She yanked her hands from his. For a moment she’d believed he’d meant what he’d said about the Crown being magic...and then he’d gone straight back to a corporate salesman. She pushed to her feet, disgusted she’d let herself be fooled. “It’s late. You should go.”

  Shane’s jaw worked. “I said the wrong thing, didn’t I?”

  “Gee, ya think?”

  “Mira—”

  “Forget about it. We just got...carried away.” She bit her lip and glanced at the A/V equipment. Taking it all apart and sending it away with Shane would be excruciating.

  “Hang on to that stuff for now,” he said as if he’d read her thoughts. “Give it a proper test. I can pick it up if you decide you don’t want it.”

  Once he’d left, Mira slouched off to bed. Life wasn’t a movie, she reminded herself sternly as she lay wide-awake on the futon. Though she supposed Casablanca was a more apt analogy for her life since Rick and Ilsa had ended up apart in the end. Their love had been unsustainable—they each had their own convictions and priorities, and a relationship would’ve meant giving up everything else.

  Mira could never abandon the Crown. Not even for a chance at happy-ever-after.

  With that thought firmly in place, she focused on preparing for her deputation.

  * * *

  ARTY BURST THROUGH the door of Janice’s flower shop, sweat dripping from his brow, his heart in his throat. Janice had called him that morning saying she had urgent news she had to share with him in person.

  He couldn’t imagine what had her so panicked. Was she sick? Had another one of their friends passed? Ever since Jack had died, it’d felt as if all the people they knew had been disappearing, like grains of sand in an hourglass.

  The thought of Jan not being in his life squeezed the air from his lungs.

  “Jan?” he called out when he didn’t immediately spot her. What if she were ill and couldn’t respond? “Janice?” Fear made his voice rise an octave.

  “I’m right here, Arty, no need to shout.” She bustled in, arms loaded with blooms, a grin on her face. “Sorry I didn’t hear you right away. I was in the cooler.”

  He put his hand to his heart. “You’re going to scare me into an early grave.” He glanced away, feeling foolish for having worried. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Her eyes danced as she held up a slip of paper. “You know I don’t give away client information, right?”

  “Wouldn’t be ethical,” he agreed.

  “Yes, so I’m just going to put this order slip down right here for a second while I get this bouquet together. Got it first thing this morning and it needs to go out by noon.” She placed the receipt on the counter and hummed as she walked away. Arty peered at it and blinked.

  “An order from Shane Patel to Mira,” he said.

  “Read the message.”

  “‘Thank you for a lovely night.’” He looked up in surprise. “You think he spent the night with her?”

  “That’s the part I’m not sure about. Mira came in here after apparently spending the early part of the morning wandering around town.”

  That was odd. Mira rarely left the Crown without a purpose. “Was she all right?”

  “I’m not sure. She kept sighing, smiling and then frowning, as if she couldn’t settle on a mood. I’ve never seen her like this.”

  Arty scratched his chin. “What did you two talk about?”

  “Said she wanted to get some hints on how to give her deputation to the zoning board next week, but she asked some odd questions. Odd for Mira, anyhow. Wanted to know about how Jack would’ve handled Shane. Whether she was doing the right thing by not selling.”

  Arty set his teeth. It definitely wasn’t like Mira to doubt her convictions. He glanced again at the order form. “Any clues about what happened with Shane?”

  “No more than what you see in front of you. But I’m convinced something’s changed between them.” Her grin lit up the room. “If I didn’t k
now better, I’d say she was a little smitten.”

  “Ha! We did it!” He whooped and grabbed Janice. Before he realized it, he was planting a kiss on her lips.

  He snapped back hastily. What was he doing? He let go of her arms and took a big step back. Janice’s cheeks were two hot flags of color. “I—I’m sorry, Jan. I got caught up there...”

  “Arty—”

  “I’d better get back to the store.” He hurried out, cursing his boldness, his impulsiveness, his sheer stupidity.

  * * *

  THE FOLLOWING THURSDAY, Shane slipped into the high school auditorium for the town meeting, aware of the eyes on him. He couldn’t not attend this meeting, no matter how uncomfortable it might make him or the deputants—he had to see who still needed convincing.

  He took a seat near the back. Tonight’s deputations were meant to guide the zoning board’s decision on whether to rezone the block where the Crown stood from commercial to mixed residential. Shane didn’t think there’d be too much resistance, despite the turnout at the meeting. Small towns like Everville needed the investment and growth—even the most stubborn resident understood that. It would’ve helped his cause if everyone knew about the plans for the high-speed rail line. Unfortunately, that information was still classified. If any investors learned of it, there’d be a lot of complications and probably investigations into insider trading. Sagmar’s knowledge of the project didn’t count—the decision to build in Everville had been made without assurances of the real estate values rising. The rail line had simply been a rumor as far as they were concerned.

  He scanned the room for Mira. She’d seemed less than enthusiastic about speaking in public when he mentioned the deputations, but he’d spotted her name on the list of tonight’s speakers. He was kind of sad that she was afraid to talk about her passion. She was such a different person when she opened up. It seemed wrong somehow that the world be denied an opportunity to hear what she had to say.