Eric froze.
Casey stopped a few feet down the sidewalk and looked back at him.
His mouth was a tight line. “How do you know about Holly?”
Casey shrugged. “That was the detour I talked about. Why you beat me to Home Sweet Home.” She explained the churchyard conversation.
He put his hands on his hips and looked at the sidewalk. “No wonder.”
“No wonder what?”
“You’re curious about Thomas and me.”
“Yeah, well, I was curious before that. Last night’s rehearsal wasn’t exactly drama-free.”
He gave a quick smile. “I guess not.” He began walking again, and she kept pace with the bike.
“So are you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“Why Thomas hates you? And why you can tell him what to do? Which might be exactly why he hates you?”
“We don’t have time to go into it all right now. Let’s just say his family and mine go a long way back.”
“And it reaches into today.”
He barked a laugh. “More than that. It reaches in, grabs, and strangles until we can hardly gasp another breath.”
Casey blinked. “Wow. Sounds…”
“Awful? Yes, it is.”
“And theatrical.”
“Well…” He held out his hands. “How can I help it?”
“Yes.” She glanced at him sideways. “That was another thing I wanted to ask you about. Your acting skills are—”
“Don’t say it. Please. I hear it enough from Thomas.”
“But you’re so good!”
He winced. “I asked you not to say it.”
“But… I thought Thomas would only tell you you were bad.”
He looked away, then back to her. “Do you really think he could?”
Casey had to smile at his discomfort. “I know he certainly shouldn’t, but from the little I’ve seen of him, he’s not the kind to give out compliments.”
The theater came into view and Eric stopped, putting a hand on the bike’s handlebars. “It’s not that he gives out compliments. Believe me. It’s more like he uses it as a weapon. ‘Look, Eric.’” His voice was gruff as he thumped Casey’s shoulder with a pointed finger. “‘You have to carry this show. If it bombs it’s because you didn’t do what you could.’” He shrugged. “You know. Stuff like that.”
Casey sighed. “The rest of the actors aren’t that bad…”
Eric gave her a look.
“Okay. They aren’t great, but I’ve seen worse.”
Eric took his hand off the bike and they walked the remaining yards to the theater door. He leaned toward her as she set the bike on its kickstand. “Just wait till you see Holly act.”
“Is she—?”
“We’ll talk after rehearsal.” With a smirk he opened the door and gestured grandly for her to enter.
Chapter Twelve
Someone had been working on the poster of the headshots. Becca, Casey figured, in her new role as stage manager. Eric’s photo—a serious black-and-white portrait—was uppermost on the board, with a woman next to him. Holly, most likely, although it was hard for Casey to recognize her from that brief, obstructed glimpse through the church’s bushes.
“You ready?” Eric waited at the performance space’s double doors.
Casey took a deep breath and let it out. “I suppose. Unless it’s not too late to back out.”
“Oh, no, no, no. You said you’d do it. I’m going to keep you to your word.”
Groaning, Casey eased past Eric into the darkened theater.
“There she is! Our savior!” Holly—for there was no doubt who she was in person—swept down the aisle, her hands outstretched.
Casey backed up a step, bumping into Eric. He put his hands on her back, gently pushing her forward.
Holly grabbed Casey’s hands and squeezed them. “We’re so happy you’ve come to join us. It’s been such a hard time, with Ellen dying.” Her large brown eyes sparkled with tears, and she blinked, allowing one of them to make its way down her cheek.
Casey felt Eric stiffen behind her, and she pulled her hands from Holly’s. “I’m glad to help out how I can.” She looked beyond Holly to see Aaron and Jack—the two young actors—sitting on the edge of the stage, watching something across the aisle. Casey followed their gazes.
Thomas stood over a woman, apparently getting an earful. Her face spoke volumes of anger, but Casey could only hear the hiss of sotto voce conversation. Obviously not things the woman wanted everyone else to hear. Becca stood awkwardly behind Thomas, a notebook clasped to her chest. She watched Thomas and the woman with a somewhat panicked expression, her jaw clenched so tightly it bunched into knots.
“Oh, don’t worry about her,” Holly said with a dismissive wave. “She’s from Racine. They have a theater program there, too, and Thomas had called last week to see if she would come take Ellen’s part. She didn’t show up until today, and she’s not too happy about you.” Holly smiled, and a chill ran down Casey’s spine.
“Come on, Casey,” Eric said. “I’ll introduce you to Todd.”
“She hasn’t met him?” Holly laced her arm through Casey’s, turning her back on Eric. “He’s a sweetheart. You’ll love him. Todd!”
She pulled Casey toward the front row of the theater, where a man sat slumped in a seat. He looked up as they arrived, his eyes half-lidded under the salt-and-pepper hair lying over his forehead.
“This is Casey…” Holly looked at her.
“Smith,” Casey said.
Todd raised his chin a fraction in greeting.
“Todd!” Holly huffed, and rolled her eyes. “This is Todd Nolan. Never mind him. He’s glad to have you here, too. Believe me.”
Todd regarded Holly with disgust, but tempered it once he realized Casey was watching him. Something resembling a smile appeared momentarily on his face, but was gone just as quickly.
“And this is Leila.” Eric gestured toward a young woman, who tore her adoring gaze from him long enough to acknowledge Casey briefly.
Casey looked questioningly at Eric, and he responded with barely disguised, almost desperate, tolerance and frustration.
Holly’s grip on Casey’s arm tightened, and Casey looked up to see Thomas and the woman headed in their direction. Becca trailed behind.
“Thanks for coming by,” Holly said to the woman. “It was good to see you again.”
The woman pursed her lips and looked Casey up and down. “Hmphf.” With that, she turned and stomped from the theater.
Holly’s hand dropped from Casey’s arm and she took a step away. “Well, thank God she’s gone.”
Thomas transferred his gaze from the departing woman to Casey. He obviously wasn’t convinced he’d gotten the better deal.
“Okay, people,” he said. “We have a play to rehearse. Does she have a script?” He jerked a thumb at Casey, not looking at her anymore.
Becca handed Casey a book, her mouth twitching. Casey wasn’t sure if it was suppressed laughter or discomfort, but whichever it was, Becca didn’t meet her eyes.
