Summer had dressed a little more formally, having chosen to wear a high-collared rose silk blouse and pleated gray flannel slacks. She had wanted the youngsters to know that she considered their production worthy of respect. They were used to the way Clay dressed.
“Have you seen the audience?” Clay asked, his eyes following the movements of the two would-be actors on stage.
“Only a peek. Did Thelma’s mother come?”
“Yes, thank God.”
“Oh, I’m so glad. Thelma would have been devastated if her mother hadn’t shown up tonight. She’s been working so hard on that song.”
“To be honest, I did some arm-twisting. I told Mrs. Sawyer that if she missed this program tonight, she would be missing any chance of ever reclaiming her relationship with Thelma.”
“Good for you.” Seeing that the skit was almost over, Summer signaled for Dodie, the fourteen-year-old Cyndi Lauper impersonator, to step behind the sheets and get ready to go onstage. “I hope you’re right about this program bringing in some healthy donations,” she continued to Clay. “Frank told me things have been getting tight around here.”
“I think it will help,” Clay replied optimistically. “We managed to draw some wealthy and influential businessmen here tonight. I see Connie brought her brother. Maybe he’d like to make a contribution to a worthwhile charity.”
Summer had been enthusiastically applauding the conclusion of the skit, but her hands fell to her sides at Clay’s comment. “Derek’s here?” she said with a gasp, staring up at Clay. “Connie was supposed to come with Joel.”
“It was her brother she walked in with,” Clay insisted.
Summer’s heart began to hammer painfully in her chest. No wonder Connie had smiled mysteriously while they’d dressed for the show, she thought wildly. Summer hadn’t known that Derek would be here, but obviously Connie had been in on the secret.
Now that she knew Derek was here, Summer wondered if she would be able to wait until the end of the show to see him. Derek was here! Only a few feet from where she stood! The long week was over, and the only thing that had changed was that Derek had managed to destroy any lingering resistance she had to him—and without even seeing her, other than that brief, rather weird visit to her bedroom.
“Summer, I asked if you’re ready for me to get behind the curtains,” a young voice repeated impatiently, and Summer realized that she’d gone into a near trance right there in the crowded hallway. Ignoring Clay’s curiously amused regard, she managed to rouse herself enough to resume directing the show.
The Fame song and dance was an unquestionable success. At its conclusion the audience gave a good-natured standing ovation. His eyes proud behind his thick glasses, Frank Rivers then took the stage to give a little talk about the operation of Halloran House, concluding with a typical fund-raiser’s plea for donations and a general invitation for cookies and punch at a “cast party” that would begin shortly.
In the hallway Summer was generous in her praise of all the performers. “You guys were terrific!” she told them, glowing with pride. She had only been involved in the home since Clay had recruited her eight weeks earlier, but she had grown to love the youths there and desperately wanted to help them find ways to work out their problems. Like Clay, she believed that a sense of self-worth was the best foundation for healthy futures for these kids, and she intended to do what she could to strengthen that foundation. “I’m so proud of all of you.”
“We owe a lot of it to you, Summer,” Thelma Sawyer said shyly, stepping forward with a brightly wrapped package. “We got you something to show our appreciation.”
“How sweet.” Surrounded by her young friends, Summer ripped into the gift. Inside the box was an engraved plaque with her name in ornate letters, the date of the performance and the words To the Best Director in the World, With Thanks from the Animals at Halloran House.
She seemed to be making a habit lately of opening gifts and choking back tears, Summer told herself mistily. “I love it. You’re the best bunch of animals I ever met. Now go have your cookies and punch with your fans.”
“They’re crazy about you, Summer,” Clay told her when the boisterous young people dashed away. He draped an arm around her shoulders. “Tell me, have you ever considered working with talented young people? With your dramatic talents and your gift of communication, you’d be a natural.”
“It has been suggested to her,” a deep male voice said from behind them. “McEntire, if you value that arm, you’ll remove it from my woman’s body.”
Clay threw a cocky grin over his shoulder and lifted the arm with haste. “Since this is my favorite arm, I’ll take your advice,” he told Derek. “I had guessed last week that you and Summer were seeing each other, but I wasn’t aware that the relationship was to the dangerous stage.”
“Very dangerous,” Derek answered evenly, dropping his own arm where Clay’s had been. He smiled down at Summer’s flushed face. “The show was great, Summer-love. You did a good job directing it.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes glowed at him, noting how good he looked in his charcoal-gray suit with the pearl-gray shirt and burgundy striped tie. As sexy as he’d been in ragged jeans and tattered T-shirt. “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight,” she told him, looking accusingly at Connie, who was grinning beside them.
“I just found out myself this afternoon,” Connie answered apologetically. “He forbade me to tell you. Sorry.”
“I’m not,” Summer admitted with a smile. “It was a very nice surprise. I’m glad you’re here, Derek.”
“Thank you, Summer.” He kissed her gently, and she could feel the tremendous effort he made to keep the kiss under control. Something about the hungry way he looked at her told her it had been a long week for him. Just as it had been for her.
Derek lifted the charm at her breast, his knuckles brushing the softness beneath as if by accident. Swallowing painfully, Summer knew there had been no accident involved.
“I see you got my latest gift.”
“Yes. I think my boss would like to meet you. He would probably love for you to be present when he cans me.”
“Oh, well. You didn’t like that job, anyway.”