The next afternoon, Addison went to the school to post the final casting. Marjorie was waiting in the parking lot, and she hurried over the minute Addison stepped out of her car.
“Come with me,” Marjorie said, even as she scoured the lot.
Addison glanced around as well. “Are we under surveillance?”
Without a word, Marjorie took Addison’s arm and started walking her around the side of the school. It wasn’t a stroll either, more like a near gallop.
“You want to tell me why we’re practically running?”
Marjorie opened a heavy door and peeked inside. After a second she pulled Addison inside and slammed the door shut.
“You’re leaving a bruise,” Addison said. “What’s going on?”
Marjorie chuckled. “Sorry, but the students have started to gather at the bulletin board. The crowd was getting big, and if you went in the front door, I was afraid you’d get mobbed.”
Marjorie started down the hall and stopped in front of a room marked Teachers’ Lounge. She shoved the door open, and Addison followed. She’d never been inside the inner sanctum of the teachers’ universe and took in everything with great interest. The reality was disappointing, as her survey revealed nothing more than couple of round tables, a sink, refrigerator, and microwave. A handful of teachers were seated at the tables, and they all surveyed Addison with an air of detached curiosity.
Until they recognized her. Then jaws dropped.
“Hello, everyone. Meet Addison Covington. She’s going to be directing our play,” Marjorie said in a matter-of-fact tone, as if a TV star showing up in the teachers’ lounge was an everyday occurrence.
Marjorie pointed to an ancient woman who’d probably started teaching back when there were still one-room schoolhouses. Addison knew the woman had been teaching when she’d gone to school here because she remembered her.
“Addison, do you remember Ms—” Marjorie began.
“Ms. Klusky,” Addison said. “American History. Of course. You’re looking well.”
“I’m looking old,” the other woman said with a grunt. “Did well for yourself, kid. Good for you.”
“Thank you,” Addison said with surprise. Ms. Klusky hadn’t had much to say to her before, let alone a word of praise.
Two men were seated at the closest table. One was nearing forty with a receding hairline and a barrel chest. Even if he hadn’t been dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, Addison would have pegged him as a coach, football at a guess.
“Coach Bennett, our athletic director,” Marjorie said.
The big man rose from his chair to shake her hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
The other man was in his early thirties with dark hair falling in elegant disarray over his forehead. The kind of teacher young girls went all gooey-eyed over. British Literature with an emphasis on poetry and the works of Byron, Keats, and Wordsworth, Addison guessed.
“Andrew Laughton,” Marjorie said. “English and literature.”
Man, I am good.
Andrew did the coach one better, raising Addison’s hand to his lips in a gallant kiss. “She walks in beauty like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies,” he said, in a swoon-worthy British accent. “And all that’s best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes.”
Oh boy… were the girls in this school lucky or what?
Marjorie gestured to the tiny man at the farthest table. Addison recognized him, too. Mr. Seeley, her biology teacher. He’d always had an air of the undead about him. Tall and skeletal with dark-as-night hair slicked back against his head. Mr. Seeley also had the curious habit of talking without ever moving his lips. The intervening years had brought no aging, but then Addison guessed when one was part of the underworld one didn’t age.
Seeley arched one brow in greeting, but otherwise didn’t bother to acknowledge her presence. Marjorie caught Addison’s eye and grinned, then moved on to the other woman in the room. She was young, full-figured and apple-cheeked with brown hair.
Home Economics, Addison thought.
“This is Maureen Collins,” Marjorie said. “She teaches physics.”
Addison tried not to gape. The Betsy Ross look-alike taught the mechanics of the universe?
Maureen giggled. “I get that look every time. What can I say? I’m a geek in Betty Crocker’s body.”
“It’s three o’clock,” Marjorie said with a glance at the big wall clock. “Time to put the students out of their misery. I’m not sure you should go out there. I can go post the list if you want.”
Addison put her hands on her hip. “I’m not hiding out like some kind of fugitive. We go in together.”
Marjorie gave a mock salute. “Whatever you say, boss.”
With a final nod at the other teachers, Marjorie led Addison out of the room and down several hallways.
“Am I going to need bread crumbs to find my way back?” Addison asked after the fourth turn.
Marjorie laughed. “We’re going the long way. The bulletin board is near the front of the school. We went in the back.”
Finally, Addison picked up a low buzz. They turned another corner, and the din grew louder. Addison could see the source of the noise now, too. A great crowd of teenage bodies filled the hallway. One of them turned.
“They’re here!” the sentry cried.
A million heads turned in their direction. Addison fought the urge to beat a hasty retreat as at least two dozen teenagers converged around them.
“You want to go put the list up on the board, or shall I?” Marjorie asked.
She swallowed. “Maybe you should.”
Addison handed over the cast list, and Marjorie secured it against her chest. “Ladies and gentlemen… back off.”
The teens halted in mid-step. Addison gaped, wondering if Ms. Shannon was some kind of magician.
Marjorie winked before leveling a quelling gaze on the crowd. “I have the cast list with me. Please behave like the well-brought-up young adults I know you are. No pushing, no shouting, and above all, no complaining. All of you did very well, but there are of course a limited number of parts. We worked very hard to find the best person for each role. I hope those of you who were not cast will consider helping out in some other way.”
The students parted, and she walked to the bulletin board unscathed. However, even she wasn’t brave enough to stick around once the list was posted. The moment Marjorie was done, she hurried back over to Addison’s side.
The kids crowded around the board like ants to a crumb. There were a couple of screams right off.
“I got in!”
“Me, too!”
Luke Mitchell walked up to the board as if he was taking a stroll in the park. His eyes widened as he saw the list. Several of the other boys slapped him on the back, and for the first time, Addison saw some real emotion. He took a deep breath. Then he mouthed thank you. Addison clapped, and Luke answered with a big grin.
Addison couldn’t help sighing in appreciation. “Oh, to be seventeen again.”
Marjorie nodded. “We’ll sell out because of him.”
Unlike the others, Lisa Turney didn’t push to get to the front. She waited on the sidelines, secure in the knowledge she’d been cast. Addison hoped the mini-diva wouldn’t pitch a fit when she saw what part she’d be playing.
Another girl was relaying the information back to her. “Lisa, you got in. You’re Bree Sommerville. How cool.”
“Bree!”
The cool mask slipped as a frown darkened Lisa’s face. She pushed through the crowd and stared at the board in disbelief. Her head whipped around to where Addison and Marjorie were standing. Venom shot from Lisa’s blue eyes, and with one final furious glare, she tore off down the hall.
“What’s her problem?” the girl asked.
“Bree isn’t the lead,” one of the boys said. “Guess Queen Bee doesn’t like being a co-star.”
The informer checked the list again. “Oh! Michelle, you’re Ellie.”
The girl pulled Michelle’s arm, bringing her up to the bulletin board. “See? You deserve the part. You were so awesome.”
“Who’s the town crier?” Addison asked.
“Robin Bradley. She auditioned yesterday.”
“She was one of the bad ones, right?”
“She struggled,” Marjorie admitted, as though reluctant to say anything negative about a student.
“Ask her to be the stage manager.”
“Really?”
“She didn’t get cast, but yet she’s thrilled for everyone else. I need someone like her on my side.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Michelle pulled her eyes off the board and turned toward Addison, as if seeking confirmation. Addison nodded, and Michelle put a hand to her mouth. Even from where she stood, Addison could see tears fill the young girl’s eyes. Michelle pushed past the other students and walked over to where Addison stood.
“I can’t believe it,” Michelle said.
“I don’t know why,” Addison answered. “You’re amazing.”
Michelle suddenly shrieked and launched herself at Marjorie. “Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”
Marjorie laughed as she hugged the girl back. “Congratulations, Michelle.”
Michelle hesitated in front of Addison, perhaps unsure if she’d accept an embrace.
“Go ahead,” Addison said. She braced herself, but the impact of Michelle’s body still nearly toppled them both.
“Thank you,” Michelle said in Addison’s ear. “I won’t let you down.”
“That went okay, don’t you think?” Addison asked, after Michelle had retreated back to other students. “Other than the Queen Bee leaving in a snit?”
“We shouldn’t call Lisa the Queen Bee,” Marjorie said with a frown.
“Right… sorry,” Addison said, back-pedaling fast. “Old resentments surfacing.”
A long look followed. “I guess you can go out the front door. The kids won’t even notice you leaving.”
“I don’t know if I should be happy about being ignored. I already have a complex about that.”
Marjorie laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get a lot of positive attention once rehearsals start.”
“Do you think Lisa will make trouble?” Addison asked, as they walked back out to the parking lot. “She didn’t look happy.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry. She’s a bit over-indulged, but she’ll accept the situation with grace, I’m sure.”
Chapter Seven
Ethan Thomas’ day officially went off the rails at 3:33 p.m.
Before 3:30 p.m., his day had been pretty uneventful. A couple detentions, two junior boys setting off a stink bomb in the boys’ locker room, and a freshman boy who freaked out a class full of girls with his pet tarantula, Barney.
Nothing he couldn’t handle with a stern look and a solemn vow from the student to never to bring any type of arachnid to school.
All was well in High School Land. The problem of the musical was solved, and he no longer had to feel like a jerk for treating Addison Covington so badly.
Then his administrative assistant, Nancy, showed up in his doorway. “Mr. Thomas, there are some parents gathering out here. I think you’re going to want to see them.”
“Who is it?”
“Mrs. Turney, and she’s brought back-up this time.”
“Again? What does she want?” The reason didn’t matter. Ethan already knew he wasn’t going to enjoy this visit.
“She mentioned Ms. Covington.”
Great, now what? He stifled a groan but stood to follow Nancy.
Ethan emerged into the outer office to find a small knot of parents gathered in the waiting area. He kept a smile in place and approached them without hesitation. He couldn’t afford to show any fear. Angry parents were like sharks, and if they smelled blood, they’d move in for the kill.
“Mrs. Turney, how can I help you?” he asked, holding out his hand.
Mrs. Turney ignored his friendly overture. “I won’t have it, Ethan Thomas.”
Several of the other parents sported matching bullish expressions. Ethan knew he had to keep control, though. “Please calm down and tell me what’s wrong.”
“What’s wrong?” Mrs. Turney puffed up her chest, eyes widening with indignation. “What’s wrong is I told you to fix this issue with the musical. I told you we needed a director.”
“I found one, ma’am.”
“What you found is an unmitigated disaster. I asked you to find a real director, not some washed-up, scandal-ridden Hollywood actress.”
“Ms. Covington is imminently qualified to…”
“She’s no more qualified than I am,” Mrs. Turney said, cutting him off. “I cannot believe you would dare to bring that woman into our school, exposing our children to all manner of depravity.”
He tried again. “Mrs. Turney…”
“I informed you nothing could get in the way of my Lisa realizing her destiny. When she told me what happened, I knew I had to come down here. Obviously you’ve been taken in and don’t realize the danger she poses to our children. She must be removed immediately.”
“And you brought along some of your friends?” Ethan asked, indicating the other anxious parents around him.
“I made some calls,” she said. “There are more people on their way now. We demand a meeting so we can hear how you plan to resolve this untenable situation.”
He felt a headache coming on. “All right. For now could you all please go wait in the hallway?”
The parents shuffled out of the office with obvious reluctance.
Nancy appeared at his shoulder. “Mrs. Turney would drive a saint to drink.”
His lips twitched, but he hid any sign of amusement as he glanced over at his administrative assistant. “Do you have any idea what happened today? Last I heard, everyone was thrilled to have Addison directing this show.”
“They were, until she cast Michelle Cerillo as the female lead.”
“Michelle Cerillo?” he said in surprise. “She barely says a word to anyone.”
“She may not talk much, but the girl can sing like an angel apparently. Marjorie Shannon told me the whole theatre was stunned after her audition.”
“Which must be what has Mrs. Turney up in arms.”
Nancy lifted a brow. “Far be it from me to criticize a mother trying to protect her child, but that woman needs a hobby.”
Ethan didn’t quite hide his grin this time. “We need to set up for a meeting. I’ll call Addison and get her down here.”
“Is that wise?” she asked with a worried expression. “It might be best to keep Ms. Covington as far away as possible. If she waltzes in here wearing her designer clothes and a high-and-mighty attitude, she’ll only make their case.”
Ethan frowned. “Why do you assume Addison would pull a diva act?”
“She was pretty convincing on House of Fashion,” Nancy said, doubt in her eyes. “Plus, she did punch her co-star on live TV. Poor girl.”
“A poor girl who stole Addison’s husband,” Ethan pointed out.
He felt his temper rise and then wondered why he cared. He didn’t know Addison anymore. A week ago he might have said the same things about her. Except a week ago he hadn’t glimpsed the utter devastation in her eyes when she’d overheard the news report about her ex-husband. There had been another one later when she’d watched his brothers with their wives.
Sure, Addison was an actress, but he didn’t think she was that good at faking emotions. In fact, he was beginning to think there was more to Addison Covington than her public image and scandalous behavior revealed.
“Sounds like you’re going to fight to keep Ms. Covington and her female lead,” Nancy said.
“I don’t like being bullied,” he said as picked up the phone and dialed.
Addison answered on the second ring. “Principal
Thomas, to what do I owe this honor? Was I tardy to class today? Perhaps I need a visit to the principal’s office.”
Her voice flowed through the phone to touch his nerve endings, and he fought back the visceral reaction. He had no time for any reactions. No time to wonder why this confusing, confounding woman intrigued him so much.
“I need you to come to the school,” he said, attempting to block out everything but the situation at hand. If he wasn’t careful, he’d have a war on his hands. Nothing got parents more riled up than a perceived threat to their children. Nothing was more guaranteed to get the school board — and even the mayor — involved either.
Addison dropped the flirtatious tone immediately. “Why?”
“I’m in the middle of a minor implosion.”
Acting Up Page 6
