A sense of the dramatic wasn’t the sole prerogative of the men around here.
She fiercely shook her head when he began to protest. “No. Seriously, how could you? How fucking dare you go public with something you knew was private and...and hurtful? Not just to him. To me, as well. After everything you’ve done already. We are so done, Will.”
He took a few deep breaths. Then he turned abruptly and left, closing the door behind him.
Lainie sank back down on the vanity stool and closed her eyes. For long moments, she just sat. She had been intimate with Will. Not only in bed, but in spending time alone together, in touching, in kissing, in conversation, she had shared part of herself with him. She hadn’t loved him, but she had liked him. She’d been attracted to him.
Now that feeling seemed so negligible she could no longer recognise that version of herself. The Lainie of even a few months ago was a stranger past and gone, a girl who’d had no idea how much she was compromising.
The woman she was now knew what she wanted—and she intended to have him. She would pit her personality against his any day.
But he had a right to be seriously pissed. And she knew him. Even on his best day, Richard couldn’t be described as charitably forgiving. He wasn’t going to make it easy for her.
At noon, she heard the sounds of more cast and crew arriving, but she suspected Richard would make a point of being even later than usual today.
Her surmise was correct—they were already ten minutes into the main stage rehearsal by the time he turned up. He ignored Bennett’s tantrum and seamlessly inserted himself into the scene. Lainie watched him out of the corner of her eye as she ran through her dialogue with Chloe. He looked tired. It was one of the few areas in which men were shortchanged by social mores: no camouflaging makeup unless they were in full costume. She had slathered about half a bottle of concealer over her own dark rings.
He was in an absolutely foul mood, as well. Even Bennett seemed mild-mannered by comparison. By the end of the first act and Richard’s fourth sarcastic outburst, whispering broke out among the crew. Onstage, Will was tight-lipped, and the usually patient Chloe was beginning to look a bit frazzled around the edges. Lainie remained stoically unmoved, aided by the fact that Richard’s temper was never directed at her. He had reverted to his previous habit of ignoring her existence.
With an annoyed look at Richard, Bennett called an intermission. “Do I look like a bleeding nanny to anyone here? If you’re going to keep tossing your toys out of the playpen, Troy,” he said nastily, “we can find you somewhere else to play.”
Richard wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist and drained a bottle of water. He didn’t bother to acknowledge the dig.
Muttering under his breath, Will brushed past him, and Richard fixed him with a level, chilling stare. He didn’t speak, however, and Will continued into the wings with one backwards, slightly uneasy glance.
Chloe played with the ends of her chic pixie cut and looked uncertainly from Lainie to Richard. “Do you want to come and get a coffee with me?” she asked Lainie, who smiled at her.
“Thanks. Maybe later.”
Chloe’s eyes went to Richard again. He was adjusting the strapping around the handle of his sword with jerky movements. “Okay,” she said dubiously, and disappeared in the same direction as Will.
Lainie walked over to Richard’s side and deliberately let her arm brush against his shoulder. He clenched his jaw under the thick growth of stubble. “In the interests of my new open-book policy, you should know that I had coffee and shortbread with Jeremy Steinman this morning.”
Frosty veneer shattered on the first try. She allowed herself a tiny, satisfied smile when he turned on her. “You did what?” His glare was incredulous. “Where did you meet Steinman?”
“We bumped into each other in the pyjama section of Primark. We’re both really into the onesie this year.” Lainie rolled her eyes. “I met him in his lounge. When I went to his flat.”
“You went to...” Words seemed to fail Richard for a moment. The man had so much to learn about her yet. “How did you even know where he lives?”
“I have my methods, Watson.” Steeling her spine against his hostility, Lainie bent down and picked up his spare water bottle. He was big on hydration. Cracking the seal on the lid, she opened it and took a sip. “He was very nice. It’s heartening to know that the RSPA doesn’t turn all of its members into handsy, middle-aged perverts. I can stop worrying about your future.”