“What? They’re together?”
Lonnie laughed. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But no, it’s not that way with them. At least, not that anyone knows about. Her husband would kill her. Or him.” He considered this, a hand on his chin. “Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”
“Holly’s married?”
His face lit up. “Didn’t you know?”
She shook her head. “I’ve been here a total of three days. And not even quite that.”
He leaned toward her, his eyes twinkling. “Then would it surprise you to hear that Holly is none other than your erstwhile lover’s stepmother?”
Casey froze. “Holly is married to Karl Willems?”
Lonnie glanced over her head, but Eric apparently remained unaware of their conversation topic, for he continued. “He married her a year ago. Caused no end of scandal, of course, with her being so much younger, and him being, well, him.”
Casey rubbed her temples. What else hadn’t Eric wanted her to know?
“Anyway,” Lonnie said with a squeeze of her arm. “Holly’s late sometimes because she likes to make a grand entrance. You know, that we all missed her so much, but she ‘was detained by an important phone call,’ or something else vague and ridiculous.” He rolled his eyes.
Casey squinted up at him from between her hands, remembering Holly’s fit the day before when Lonnie hadn’t shown up. “And Thomas lets her get away with that?”
Lonnie shrugged, releasing her arm and sinking back into his chair. “What’s he going to do? It’s not like we have anybody else to do her role.” He eyed Casey sideways. “No matter how much we do or don’t like her performance.”
The doors to the back of the theater slapped open, and Thomas barreled down the aisle, his face a picture of barely controlled fury. Aaron and Jack stopped poking each other and jumped to their feet, Becca clutched her notebook to her chest, and even Eric backed up a step, almost stepping on Leila.
“Oh, boy,” Lonnie said in Casey’s ear. “Looks like we’re in for it tonight.” His voice sounded almost gleeful. “I hope I’m not the one he takes it out on. But then, that could be kind of fun, in a perverse sort of way.”
“Lonnie!” Thomas bellowed.
Lonnie jumped, then shot an amused glance at Casey.
Casey took another look at Thomas and leaned back to avoid his glare as he checked out Lonnie’s clothes. “Done with your shopping?”
Lonnie grinned. “Thank you so much for asking, Thomas. I did manage to find some great deals.” Thomas’ hands curled into fists, but Lonnie took no notice. “I found a sweater that would’ve been perfect for you, but unfortunately they didn’t have it in your size.”
“Lonnieeeee…” Thomas’ voice was a growl.
Lonnie held his hands up as if in surrender. “Sorry. Sorry. I won’t do it again.” He looked innocently at the director, blinking woefully, until Thomas turned away. “Until the next end-of-season sale,” Lonnie whispered. Casey glanced at him, and he pinched his lips together, trying not to laugh.
“Becca!” Thomas’ voice was very quiet, but filled with steel. “Where are we starting today?”
To Becca’s credit, she stuttered only once in response, and had the stage all ready to go. Any more arguments were forestalled until the next break.
Casey worked through her scenes, pleasantly surprised at Lonnie’s talent, especially since he was playing her character’s brother, Sebastian. She found herself a bit shy when on stage with Eric, and tried to avoid him between scenes. If Lonnie was right about Eric, she’d have to watch her step. The last thing Eric needed was for her to crush his feelings, no matter how misplaced they were. Besides that, she didn’t need any more of Leila’s wrath to come her way.
Holly made her grand entrance about a half hour late, but they barely noted her arrival. She sat sulking in the seats until Becca called her, and even then she needed some extra coaxing to get on stage.
They stumbled through several scenes before break, and Casey escaped to the bathroom, where she stayed until Becca called them back.
“You okay?” Eric joined her, several rows back from the stage.
She didn’t look at him. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
She was spared further conversation by being summoned to the stage, where Thomas kept her busy every moment. When the end of rehearsal finally arrived she cast about for thoughts of how she might get out of walking home with Eric.
“Casey!”
She stopped in her tracks, as did the rest of the actors.
“Everyone else,” Thomas said. “Shoo!”
Eric hesitated mid-aisle, and Leila ran into him.
“Go ahead,” Casey said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I can wait.”
“Really. No reason for you to wait. I’ll be fine.”
His face set into stubborn lines, and he went out the doors, Leila on his heels. Casey sighed, figuring he’d be outside when she was done, although maybe Leila could convince him to go out for that drink he’d promised her. She turned back to Thomas, who sat in his seat, tapping his pencil on his closed script. She glanced up at the darkened stage, wondering if they actually were alone, but got no sense that Taffy and Bone were anywhere in the building.
She looked back at Thomas, but stayed facing the stage. “Yes, Thomas?”
He didn’t stop the pencil, and looked steadily forward. “Casey, I want to know who you are.”
She stood still, the rhythm of the pencil almost hypnotic. “Who I—”
“Your real last name, for one thing.” He grabbed the pencil, stopping it, and looked over at her.
“I told you. It’s Smith.”
He stared at her, unblinking. “You’re going to stick with that, are you?”
“Yes.” Her body began its defensive routine of relaxing muscles and deeper breathing. The aisle was on an incline, which could be tricky, but she could compensate. If Thomas came after her, he’d be down in an instant. He didn’t have a clue.
“Then how about where you came from? Let’s start with that.”
She looked at him. “West.”
“West. I see. And that would be west as in Iowa, or maybe California? Or perhaps you’re thinking the Wild West, in which you are the female version of the Lone Ranger?”
“Just west.”
“Ah.” He looked down at his script again, laying his hand flat on it, studying his fingers, or perhaps the ring on the fourth one. “Is there a reason you don’t want people to know?”
“Is there a reason you need to?”
He was quiet for a moment, looking at his hand, which he brought up to brush over his face. Then he stood, slowly turning toward her and stepping out into the aisle. Casey took a deep breath through her nose.
“I don’t know who you are,” he said. “Whether you’re coming from Hollywood or Broadway, or…other places…because obviously your career—or part of it—has been this one we share.” His voice was low. Even. “But I’m telling you now. If you’re here to cause trouble for me, it’s going to be bad for you.” He watched her. “Do you understand?”
“What kind of trouble do you think I’m here to cause?”
His eye twitched. “If you don’t know, I’m certainly not going to tell you, am I?” He took a step toward her. “But I am going to tell you this. What you’re up to…I’m onto you. I know what you’re doing. And when I catch you at it…” His lip rose, and Casey flexed her fingers, ready. But when he moved, it was toward the stage, backing up, still facing her.
“You can go,” he said. “And when you do, you tell your friends this. Thomas Black is not afraid of them. And if they think sending a…a scrawny little woman to do their dirty work is going to change things, they can think again. I’m doing the best I can, and when I have what they want, I’ll get it to them. It should be soon. You tell them
