“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.
“We don’t have time for this, Brody. I have to get changed.”
Brody cursed and Tyler felt the sizzle of his temper as he let her walk away. It lit a fire under her own, while she slipped into the next dress. How could he not know, not understand what he’d done? She was still simmering when she met him on stage again, and they sparked off each other as they performed.
Hardly the magic everyone expects, she thought as the curtain dropped for a set change.
“Cut!” called Nate.
Now they’d done it. They’d screwed things up with their personal crap badly enough that he’d stopped a dress rehearsal.
The curtain lifted again, and Tyler braced herself for a lecture. But Nate wasn’t paying attention to them. Instead he was talking to someone in the aisle. Two someones. Squinting, she tried to make out who it was. Norah? What was she doing here?
“Raise the house lights, please,” shouted Nate.
As the auditorium lights came up, Tyler felt her blood run cold as she recognized Brody’s boss in his impeccable suit.
Norah and Gerald walked to the front of the auditorium, beside the orchestra pit. “Sorry for the interruption, y’all,” said Norah, “but I knew you’d want to be the first to know. As you’re aware, the Madrigal went into foreclosure with the bank a couple of weeks ago. The old girl isn’t in the greatest of shape, and our various fund raising efforts weren’t enough to keep the wolf from the door. But I am happy to report that the theater is off the market. The sales paperwork has been filed with the bank.”
A low murmur of surprise swept through the cast.
Norah continued, “I’d like to introduce you to the new owner of the Madrigal Theater, Gerald Peyton. He wanted to come talk to all of you and tell you a bit about what he has planned.”
Gerald stepped up, thanked Norah for her introduction.
Tyler’s shoulders went rigid and she closed her eyes, waiting for the blow.
“I’m not from here,” Gerald began, “but through my business dealings in the community, I’ve come to develop a true fondness for Wishful and its unique history. When I first heard of the availability of this property, my initial thought was to incorporate it into the same complex I’m developing up the street. But one of your own has worked very hard to convince me that there are other more…suitable alternatives that will maintain the integrity and history of the theater, while continuing the theme of urban redevelopment in downtown Wishful.”
Tyler’s head shot up and her heart began to pound.
“Brody, perhaps you’d like to tell them the rest,” said Gerald. “It is your idea, after all.”
Brody stepped forward to address the assembled cast, crew, and orchestra. “Y’all might’ve noticed I’ve looked half dead the last week during rehearsals. I apologize for that. I’ve been getting very little sleep while I put together a proposal for Gerald about the Madrigal and her potential. For the record, I don’t recommend anybody use AutoCAD while high on Mountain Dew.” A chuckle swept through his audience.
&nb
sp; “Gerald’s new non-profit organization will be submitting a grant in the next month that’s geared toward the first in a multiphase project to create a state-of-the-art performing arts center. First and foremost, we’re going to restore the theater. She’s going to get outfitted with the latest in lighting and sound technology, while receiving a makeover to the lobby and auditorium that will return it to its original splendor.”
A whoop went up from the crowd. Tyler felt her knees go weak. Brody grinned and held up his hands for quiet. “That’s only the first stage. Ultimately we want to expand to include a concert hall and an additional outdoor performance space beyond the central park lands, for outdoor concerts and theater productions. Those projects will depend upon the securing of additional grant funding and revenues generated by continued and expanded performances of the complex. If you’re interested in seeing what the proposed venues look like, I’ve been working on the plans for the last couple of weeks. But the important take home here is that The Madrigal is safe.”
The Madrigal is safe. The words echoed through Tyler’s brain. Brody met her gaze across the stage, cocking his head in question at her no doubt stunned expression.
Oh God. I had it all wrong.
Congratulations were tossed like confetti, and the generally dismal mood that had haunted rehearsals since they announced the foreclosure finally dissipated. Half the cast launched into a rousing rendition of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow,” while others burst into spontaneous jigs. Nate let it go on for a good five minutes, before calling everyone back to order and getting the dress rehearsal back on track.
Gerald came up to the edge of the stage and shook Brody’s hand. “Good luck with the show. I’m afraid I won’t be here during the run. I’m flying out tomorrow morning. But I’ll see you on the third.”
Tyler felt like the top had blown off her head. It was a minor miracle that she remembered her lines and choreography through the rest of the performance. The numbness started to wear off about the time they finished resetting the stage for opening night. She raced through changing back to street clothes. Piper strode in as she was hopping toward the dressing room door, pulling on her shoes.
“Tyler, did you—”
“I have to talk to Brody,” she interrupted.
“I think he already left.”
“Shit.” Tyler pushed passed her, racing out to the parking lot.