by Leslie North
“What was that about?” Kara whispered, even though she didn’t have to.
“Why are you whispering?” Lexie whispered back.
Sometimes, it felt like speaking in a regular volume would make something real. And this news was not something she wanted to be real. “Because I feel like it. What did he say?”
Lexie nibbled on her bottom lip. “Mr. Hofstadt said that he spoke with the property owner.”
Kara stilled, immediately reaching out for Lexie’s wrist. She’d almost forgotten, in the whirlwind of waiting for the overdue grant response, that she’d been expecting a reply from the property owner about her request to postpone the sale.
“Tell me he’s going to throw me a bone,” Kara whispered.
Lexie shook her head, and Kara’s stomach clattered to the ground. “Mr. Hofstadt can’t get a word out of him. Mr. Walton won’t share any information about the theater, and every time Mr. Hofstadt tries, he gets shut down. The owner just doesn’t want to negotiate anything that isn’t an immediate sale.”
Kara clenched Lexie’s wrist a bit tighter before letting go, shifting her gaze to the few rows of heads looking toward the stage. Despair circled inside her, but class needed to start, and this wasn’t the time to lament. No, that would come later, with a bottle of wine and lots of screaming into her pillow.
Your dream is about to be flushed down the toilet.
She cleared her throat, sending a pointed look to Lexie. In a normal voice, she said, “We should start the class. Go close the door, and I’ll start introductions.” This could be the last class you ever teach inside this place.
Lexie nodded, still nibbling nervously at her lip. “Also, I wanted to tell you that we had a walk-in.”
“That’s fine.” Kara waved her hand dismissively.
“He paid for the whole class, even though he said he’ll just be able to attend today.”
Kara creased her brow. “Weird. But I’ll take his money if he insists.”
Lexie scanned the front of the house, then pointed toward someone on the left side of the theater. “There he is. See him?”
Kara struggled to follow Lexie’s finger, but couldn’t discern which head his might be.
“He’s mega-gorgeous,” Lexie added, dropping her hand. “You won’t miss him.”
Kara nodded tersely. Probably another early-twenties Hollywood hopeful who was too attractive for his own good. She got enough of them as it was. But she knew better than to fall for their fawn-over-me charm. “Grab the doors.”
Lexie ran toward the side doors, and Kara counted to ten before beginning a slow walk down the center aisle. She absorbed the clamor of voices, the echoes off the elaborately arched and decorated walls. As she reached the first row of students, her voice cut through the chatter.
“Hello, students!” The forced brightness of her greeting rang false to her, but she knew it carried perfectly. No one would suspect the dark clouds inside her right now. “Welcome to the first day of summer improv.”
Her students turned, almost thirty faces in various shades of curiosity, anxiety, or excitement. Improv classes attracted as many introverts as they did extroverts, and while everyone who signed up always did so of their own free will, nerves usually abounded. Especially once the welcome games began.
Kara introduced herself and Lexie and then got down to business. “We’ll be here for six weeks, two days a week, with ample homework and plenty of comfort zone–destroying games ahead of us.” The class tittered nervously. She swept her gaze across the students as she spoke, trying to get familiar with the new faces.
“If you’ve ever wanted to get more comfortable speaking in front of a crowd, ace your next audition for a play, or just generally learn how to respond quickly to basically anything that anyone could ever throw your way, you’ve come to the right place.” Kara offered a reassuring smile, her skin prickling when she noticed someone in the farthest seat, close to the door, with their head down. Probably buried in their phone already.
She headed that way as she made a slow stroll in front of the stage, glancing discreetly at the offending student. It wasn’t often she got disrespectful students in the summer classes. High school was another story. Her exasperated-teacher hackles had already risen.
“To begin, let’s do introductions.” Kara watched the student, clearly a grown man, his tousled, dark-blond hair shrouding his face as he bent over his phone. He cut a boxy profile, strong square shoulders under an expensive-looking button-down shirt. “This is both practical and a memory test.” She grinned devilishly as she explained the game in which every student introduced themselves by alliterating their name with a descriptive word, making a gesture, and repeating the introduction of the person that came before them.
“I’ll go first. I’m Kooky Kara.” She tipped an imaginary hat, then pointed to the farthest student on the opposite side. “Now you.”
The students went one by one, some announcing themselves quietly, others with laughter. Slowly, the mood in the theater relaxed. When the introductions reached the inattentive student nearest the door, he was still buried in his phone. His turn to introduce himself was met with silence.
Kara cleared her throat. “Excuse me?”
The man snapped his head up, sky blue eyes searing through her. He had the face of a Gucci model, pure angles and square jaw. This had to be Mr. Gorgeous Lexie had pointed out. Confusion clung to his face as he looked around as though he’d just noticed he was here. “Yes?”
“Have you been paying attention?” Her annoyance was through the roof now. This was not a good way to start off the session for him. But Lexie had said this was his one and only class. Kara could only hope.
“Excuse me. I had a bit of an emergency back home.” A soft British accent shone through his baritone, softening the edge of Kara’s annoyance.
“We’re introducing ourselves,” she said firmly. Don’t be swayed by the accent. But British accents were so hot.
“Ah, yes. Kooky Kara.” He offered a grin, one that made her heart skip a beat. So he had heard something. “Massive apologies. I’m Gregarious Gregor.” He sent an exaggerated wink her way. She fought to keep her face stony.
“Very good,” she said, overlooking the fact that he had entirely missed repeating the name of the student before him. If he was going to be the problem student, she’d take what she could get. “Now that we all know who we are…let’s just dive in head first, shall we?”
Almost immediately, Gregor buried himself in his phone again. And maybe she was peeking at him a bit more than needed. But Lexie had been right. The man was hot. It was hard to look away. He should have called himself Gorgeous Gregor.
Grab your copy of The Billionaire’s Sham Girlfriend (The Beaumont Brothers Book 1) from www.LeslieNorthBooks.com
