Mystic Park (Finding Home 4) - Page 40

“A couple of council members are on the schedule.” Vaughn rose from his seat. Manners had been too firmly instilled in the Brooks household to allow his grievance with Nessa to get in the way.

Surprise flashed across Nessa’s thin features. “Then I would advise you to get in touch with these people and tell them the audition has been moved.”

“To where? And what about the walk-ins?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” Nessa shrugged. “Thanks for your time, Vaughn. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

The edge of satisfaction in Nessa’s tone and her expression should have sent Vaughn over the edge. Instead he shook his head with a smile, then sank back onto his black padded executive chair. He’d known producing his musical wouldn’t be easy: the costs, the myriad tasks involved outside of the production, the personalities. But he had one positive—Benita’s involvement. She’d help him keep his head on straight so he could deal with obstacles like the one Nessa had just planted in his path.

Vaughn’s hand hovered over his telephone receiver. And what would he do when he couldn’t lean on her any longer? He shrugged off the muscle-numbing dread and dialed Benita’s cell phone number. She answered on the second ring.

Vaughn chose to forego the traditional greeting. “We’ve suffered our first setback with Mystic Park.”

“What is it?” Her no-nonsense reply eased Vaughn’s tension.

“Nessa said we can’t perform in the community center.” Vaughn summarized his meeting with the town council president.

“Nessa has gone off her rails.” Benita’s tone was incredulous. “This isn’t a decision she can make by herself.”

“Should we talk to the other council members?” Vaughn imagined Benita in Ms. Helen’s home. Which room was she in? Was she sitting or standing? What was she wearing?

“There’s no time.” Her sigh stretched down the phone line. “We need to go to Plan B.”

Vaughn drew a blank. “I don’t have a Plan B.”

“I do. Find out if we can have the musical in TFU’s auditorium.”

Vaughn swallowed his disappointment. “I wanted to perform the play

in the community center.”

“So did I.” Benita’s understanding went a long way toward helping Vaughn get over his disappointment. “But if you’re serious about getting the musical on stage in eight weeks, we don’t have time to fight Nessa and persuade the council members.”

“You’re right.”

“I know.” There was a smile in her voice. “Look on the bright side. The auditorium holds more people.”

“I think the university president will agree to having the performance here. It’ll be good exposure for us in the community.” Vaughn checked his Timex. First, he needed to speak with Foster. There was a hierarchy and a process to be followed. “Foster says the president wants to strengthen TFU’s ties with the town, especially with the university’s sesquicentennial coming up.”

“Will you be able to ask the president today?” Benita seemed anxious. So was Vaughn.

“I’ll try.”

“I’ll be waiting for your call.”

Vaughn recradled his telephone receiver. It was a relief not to have to deal with production issues on his own. Those six words—“I’ll be waiting for your call”—made his impossible seem possible.

He and Benita had always worked together well. He had the creative vision and she could make things happen. Now if only he could find a creative way to make her love him enough to stay in Trinity Falls.

Benita disconnected Vaughn’s call on her cellular phone. A glance at the display screen told her it was about twenty minutes until noon. She strolled into the kitchen and found Ms. Helen with her head in the refrigerator.

“Do you want to join me at Books and Bakery?” Benita crossed her arms and rested her hip against the counter.

Her great-aunt let the refrigerator door shut. She gave Benita a critical once-over. “What’s got your hair on fire?”

Benita had thought she’d masked her temper. But her great-aunt always had been able to read her like a book. “I need to let Doreen know that Nessa’s circumventing her authority as mayor, as well as the rest of the town council.”

Ms. Helen’s thin, still-dark eyebrows shot to her snow white hairline. “Again? That woman’s a piece of work.”

Tags: Regina Hart Finding Home Romance
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