“Seriously? Why?”
“They just are. Can you help me or not?”
She nodded. Her shiny hair bounced around her heart-shaped face. “I’d be honored.”
“Thanks. Auditions begin at nine sharp. Be here no later than eight.”
She saluted him, clapped her heels together and then spun around.
Was that a giggle? He watched her drift onto the stage. She glanced his way before trotting down the stairs. He shook his head. Estelle Rogers was nothing like he’d expected based on Trinity’s description or even Derek’s for that matter. The tabloids appeared to have been wrong about her too. As he recalled, they’d painted the picture of a diva with no heart.
Unless he’d read her wrong, she had plenty of heart. The woman he’d met was no diva, unless she was a better actress than he realized. He recalled reading somewhere that directors refused to work with her because her acting had become amateurish. That wouldn’t be a problem here, unless she behaved like a child—he’d have more than enough of those to direct. The back of his neck prickled. Who was the real Estelle Rogers? The woman the media painted or the one he’d met today?
“There you are.” An overly sweet female voice drew him from his musings.
He turned and sighed. “Mrs. Smith. What can I do for you?” Another thing he didn’t enjoy about the theater—stage moms. Mrs. Smith was the most difficult. Because she made huge contributions to the theater every year, he couldn’t afford to offend her. Without her money they wouldn’t have half of the props they’d need. Too bad her daughter’s acting skills were lacking.
“You can give my Melody the starring role. She’s ready.” The woman tried to smile, but it came across as sinister in the dim lighting.
“Auditions are on Friday. Parts will be posted by Monday of next week.”
She huffed. “You owe my daughter.”
He crossed his arms, and narrowed his eyes. Last season he’d found a role for every kid that auditioned, so this attitude made no sense. “Why is that?”
“You gave her two lines last summer. She took acting lessons this past year. She’s going to be a freshman in high school in September, and it’s her time to shine.” A coy look crossed her face. “I haven’t made my annual contribution to the theater this year. After her bit part last year, I thought I should hold off.”
“Everyone receives the same chance as the others.”
She crossed her arms, matching his stance. “Is that why Paris had the starring role for the past two years?” She raised a brow. “Doesn’t sound fair to me.”
“If the part fits her best, then it benefits everyone to have her in the lead role because she makes them and our benefactors look good.” He needed her money, but he couldn’t be bought. He hoped Melody’s skills had improved.
“I see. So what you’re saying is that Paris is a shoo-in.” She harrumphed. “You create all the musicals for the children’s theater. Are you sure you’re not writing the role for Paris specifically?”
He raised his chin. “Mrs. Smith, I assure you that is not how I operate.” How could he appease this woman without compromising his integrity? Estelle. “You might be pleased to know that Estelle Rogers will be helping to cast the parts this year.”
The woman’s face lit up. “Well, that does make a difference. I’ve said for years this place needed more than one man deciding the fate of our children.” She pivoted and marched away.
“Good riddance,” he mumbled. Talk about being overly dramatic. The fate of the children? Right—as if his little theater had that much power.
A chuckle from stage right drew his attention. He narrowed his eyes. “I thought you left.”
Estelle stepped further into the light.
Chapter Two
Poor Blake had his hands full. She felt sorry for him, but not too sorry. After all, he was a grown man. He ought to be able to handle an obnoxious stage mom or two. “I was on my way out when I remembered I need a copy of the script. I’d like to read through it before the auditions on Friday. I see now why you want my help with casting.” She nodded in the direction the woman had left. “Are there more moms like that one?”
He winced. “A couple, but she’s the worst. Come on, I’ll get you the script.”
She followed him to a nearby door. He pulled it open and yanked on an overhead chain. A lone bulb lit the tiny, drab space. “Someone must not like you,” she joked.
He pawed through papers strewn over his desk. “Why do you say that?”
“I was kidding, but in all seriousness, look at this place.” A worn metal desk rested against the wall with a tall file cabinet beside it. The black desk chair was the nicest thing in the compact room. “The dressing room in my first movie when I played a supporting role was bigger than this.”
“Yeah, well, this isn’t Hollywood. We make do with what we have to work with. It was either this or nothing.” He pulled a manila envelope from under a pile. “I was going to give this to Derek so he’d have an official copy, but never got around to it.”
Her heart warmed at the name. Though an ex-boyfriend, Derek was one of the kindest men she’d ever known. She was fortunate to call him a friend, especially after everything she’d put him through. “Where is Derek? I thought he and Kayla lived in town now.”
“They do. I’m sure you’ll run into them sooner or later. Kayla is no longer working at the florist shop though. She sold her half of the business to her business partner.”
“How did I not know that? Guess I’ve been busier than I realized.” She’d looked forward to reconnecting with Kayla, and she wanted to see her friends’ daughters. She had pictures of their adorable munchkins but had never met their youngest. Mae was already two and Betsy was four. Where did the time go? She tucked the envelope into her bag. “I guess I’ll see you Friday.”
“For sure, but we’ll probably run into one another before then, considering we are staying on the same property. By the way, how is the cottage? Did it meet your expectations?”
“It’s lovely. Thanks for giving it up for me. I didn’t expect that.”
“Sure thing.” He dipped his chin.
If she stood there any longer things would get awkward, but for some reason she couldn’t explain, being in this theater felt right, and she didn’t want to leave.
Blake cleared his throat.
“I’d better go. Bye.” She turned and rushed toward the door with the exit sign above it and pushed through. Bright sunshine nearly blinded her. She squinted and shielded her eyes with her hand. A dumpster rested beside the door. A gray cat slunk past. She shivered. “This place gives me the creeps.” She darted toward the sidewalk about one hundred feet away.
Feet firmly planted on the sidewalk now, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Now what? A sign up the street for a place called Java World grabbed her attention. “Perfect.” She’d get an iced green tea then head back to Helen’s garden and spend the next hour or so reading through the script.
“Estelle? Estelle Rogers, is that you?”
She plastered on a smile before turning to face the female voice. Her eyes widened in recognition. “I know you. You’re Kayla’s business partner. I mean were. I heard you bought her out.”
The woman smiled. “Good memory. And yes, I did. She wanted to be a full-time mom and be free to travel with Derek when he tours.” She held out her hand. “I’m Jill.”
“Of course.” She winced when she thought about the way she’d acted that summer. “I owe you an apology. I wasn’t very nice to you when I was last here, and I’m sorry.”
Jill’s mouth opened slightly. “That was unexpected.”
Estelle chuckled. “I imagine so. I’m not the same person I was six years ago, and I’m embarrassed for the way I behaved the last time I was here.”
“As I recall you were under a lot of stress. All is forgiven.”
Pleasure poured over her like a healing balm. “Thanks. That’s nice of you.” Maybe she should have come b
ack to this small town sooner. For years she’d carried the guilt of her behavior.
Jill tipped her head to the side. “What are you doing in Oak Knoll?”
“Helen asked me to visit for a few months. She’s been inviting me here for years, but this is the first time my schedule has allowed it.” And she was finally brave enough to face the people she’d been so rude to on her last visit.
“Wow. I didn’t realize the two of you kept in touch. Kayla never said anything.”
Estelle shrugged. “Helen made a huge impact on my life, and we became great friends. My only regret is not visiting sooner. This place looks exactly the way I remember.”
“For the most part.” Jill looked past her. “It was great seeing you. I hope you have a nice visit.” She headed in the opposite direction Estelle was going.
Feeling lighter, Estelle ambled along the main drag until she reached Java World then pushed inside. She breathed in deeply the rich scent of coffee. As much as she loved the scent, she much preferred tea. Hopefully they carried it too.
“Welcome to Java World.” A dark-haired woman who looked to be in her early thirties greeted her from behind the counter. Her eyes suddenly widened. “You’re Estelle Rogers!” Awe lit her voice. “What are you doing here?”
Estelle inwardly cringed. In LA she was old news, but apparently in small town Oregon a former celebrity was still a big deal. “I’m visiting a friend.”
“Oh.” Her eyes grew even wider. “You and DJ Parker were an item.” She shook her head. “I mean Derek. I was here the day you showed up and put the town in an uproar.” She frowned. “That’s not going to happen this time, is it?”
“I sure hope not.” Estelle shifted and glanced toward the exit. Thankfully the paparazzi had no reason to follow her now—they’d always made her nervous.
“Good. Although it was great for business, I prefer our town as is.” She held out her hand. “I’m Gabby.”
Estelle shook it, not quite sure how to take this outspoken woman. “It’s nice to meet you, Gabby.”
“You too. I’m sorry for being nosy. Your life is none of my business. What can I get you?”
Estelle ordered her drink to go then waited at the other end of the counter, thankful Gabby’s questions had ceased. The shop was deserted, but the attention still felt uncomfortable. She preferred to be treated like everyone else—except when she wanted tickets to a sold-out show or concert. Then she’d milk her former celebrity status for all she could. Lately it didn’t go far.
“Here’s your tea. I hope you come in again.”
Estelle took the iced beverage. “Thanks. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other this summer.” Things were shaping up better than she’d expected.
“I’m glad.” Gabby offered a sincere smile.
She headed outside into the sunshine. Her cell phone vibrated, and she pulled it out of her pocket and frowned. Jeff. Her thumb hovered over the screen. She told him she needed time, but maybe he was checking to make sure she arrived safely. “Hi,” she said softly.
“Hi yourself. Are you there?”
“I am.”
“How was the drive?”
“Long.”
“I imagine it was. So . . .” He drew out the word.
“I don’t have an answer yet, Jeff.”
“Why? Forget it. I asked you to marry me a week ago. That is more than enough time to decide. Clearly you don’t feel the way I do.”
“Jeff, please don’t be like this.”
Silence.
Regret for hurting him filled her. “Hello?” She looked at the screen and realized he’d disconnected the call. Did she just get dumped? She huffed a breath and pocketed her phone.
This was exactly why she’d needed to get away—to clear her head and figure out what she wanted. Marriage was a huge commitment, and she needed to know for sure he was the one. But if he was willing to give up on her so easily, then he couldn’t possibly be the one. Or could he?
Someone brushed past her, causing her to realize she was standing in the middle of the sidewalk not moving. Great. Hopefully no one noticed. She marched directly to her car, parked a block away. She tossed her bag onto the passenger seat and caught the envelope holding the script before it slipped out and fell to the floor. At least now she could totally focus on the musical’s script since she didn’t have to figure out whether to accept Jeff’s marriage proposal.
She pushed the speed limit a little, and soon Helen’s farm came into view. Peace settled over her in spite of her breakup. In fact, she felt free. There was definitely something about this place that made everything feel right again. She parked, and noting no sign of Helen, she headed straight for the cottage. Bees buzzed around flowers in the window box attached to the cottage. She breathed in the sweet scent of the purple and fuchsia flowers then walked inside. She cracked the window, allowing the scent to come in.
Now to see what kind of musical Blake had written. She half-dreaded reading it. What if it was terrible? What if everyone hated it and word got back to Hollywood that she was a part of yet another flop? She shook away the thought. No one in Hollywood cared about her anymore. But she still didn’t want to be associated with garbage. She hoped and prayed this script was good.
She pulled it from her bag then sat in a comfy rocker beside the open window. An hour later she placed the final page on the floor beside her. Blake was too good to be writing for a small children’s theater.
A soft knock sounded on her door.
“Come in.”
Helen poked her head inside. “Will you be joining me for dinner?”
Estelle sighed. “I forgot to stop for groceries. Do you mind this once?”
“Not at all. I invited Blake too, since he doesn’t have a kitchen in the barn.”
“You mean he won’t be able to feed himself as long as I’m here?”
“There’s a mini fridge and a microwave.”
“I feel like I’m putting everyone out.” She pushed up out of the chair and strolled toward Helen. “First thing tomorrow, I’ll look for a place to rent short term.”
“Nonsense. You’re my guest.”
“But what about Blake?”
“He’s fine.” She smiled as though she hadn’t a care in the world. “He knows how to feed himself. I promise you he won’t starve. Even if he only has a microwave to cook with.”
“Okay.” How could Helen be so laissez-faire about this? Maybe, I’m over reacting. Being in the restaurant business probably clouded her judgment.
Her phone chimed. Everyone knew she was on vacation, and other than Jeff, her social life left a lot to be desired, so who could be texting her? Maybe Jeff had changed his mind. She dug her phone from her purse. Derek?
“I heard you’re helping Blake. Let me know if you need anything. Kayla says hi.”
She re-read the message three times before replying. “News travels fast. Will do. Say hi back for me. I want to see those girls of yours.”
Her phone chimed again. “You’re welcome any time. Mom has my address. I mean it, if you need help let me know.”
“Okay.” Concern nipped at the back of her mind. Why was Derek so worried about the musical? It wasn’t like him to reach out like that.
~
Blake hesitated at the street corner. A line of kids and their parents trailed the length of the community center. Had the town suddenly grown more children? More than likely, many of them were from the surrounding communities. He ran a hand along his neck.
Heels clipped. He looked over his shoulder and relief washed over him. He wasn’t in this alone.
Estelle wore a short red dress, denim jacket, and boots. Dark sunglasses shielded her eyes from the bright light filtering through the clouds. Her look screamed movie star. He gulped. What had he gotten himself into?
“Good morning.” She stopped beside him and thrust a paper coffee cup from Java World toward him. “I didn’t know what you like but took a chance on a mocha.”
He raised it to his lips. Mmm—it tasted as good as it smelled. “Thanks. I didn’t think to caffeinate.”
“Amateur mistake. Those parents and their cherubs will eat you alive if you aren’t operating at one hundred percent.”
He opened his mouth to defend the people of the town he’d come to think of as home, but the smile on her face told him she was only playing. She seemed to enjoy teasing. Odd—it didn’t fit his image of her. He chugged half the drink. Took a deep breath then let it out. “Ready to do this?”
“Absolutely.” She stretched as tall as her five-foot-three frame could and strutted forward. She glanced over her shoulder. “You coming?”
He closed his mouth and strode beside her. “You’re good at this.”
“Just playing the part.” She raised her chin slightly and coolly walked past all the waiting children and teens.
Playing the part? Was anything about her real? He’d thought she was genuine, and that everyone had been wrong about her, but maybe he’d judged her too quickly. This woman definitely fit the way the tabloids had described her.
Who was the real Estelle Rogers?
He stopped at the front of the line, stuck two fingers between his teeth and let out a shrill whistle.
Excited chatter died down.
“Thank you. We’re trying something different this year. Please follow Ms. Rogers and me inside. You will register as you enter the auditorium. Auditions will be held in front of everyone.” It was a good thing he had several volunteers waiting to get all the kids checked in. Hopefully they’d be able to process everyone within the hour he’d allotted.
A murmur erupted.
He whistled again. “If anyone has a problem with this format, feel free to leave now.” He wanted to weed out the kids who fought stage fright, and the best way to do that was to throw them into the spotlight during auditions. If they froze then he’d know not to cast them in a large role. He’d made that mistake last year and refused to put any child or teen through that again.
An Encore for Estelle (Melodies of Love Book 2) Page 2
