Richard firmly removed the water bottle from her grip. “Get your own drink. Why did you call on Steinman?”
“To tell him about his VP’s idea of a postprandial nightcap.” Lainie flicked a speck of fluff from her jumper. She closed her fist when she saw that her fingers were unsteady. “And to provide you with a character reference in case he was under the impression that you’re an impatient, irresponsible, sarky git. Which is only partly true.”
“We are in a chipper mood today.” The observation was cold.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Lainie’s smile was nothing less than the raising of a metaphorical blade. Pure challenge. And no one was seeing through it to the insidious little ribbon of fear underneath. Because she was a damn good actress. Even Richard had said so, in a roundabout, somewhat half-assed way. “You were totally right yesterday.”
Richard’s eyes had narrowed. He merely raised an eyebrow in response, conceding no further advantage.
“You have no idea what you’ve let yourself in for.”
Bennett came slamming back into the stalls from the administration offices, and she turned to resume her position on the stage. “By the way,” she said, looking over her shoulder, “you were also wrong yesterday.”
He remained entirely still.
“We’ve never pretended with each other, you and I.”
From Bennett’s perspective, the second act rehearsal was as disastrous as the first. Richard had stopped behaving like a first-class grump, but now seemed distracted. For the first time in their entire run, he had to be prompted on a missed line, which at least had the effect of shaking him out of his trance. The prompt received scant appreciation for her help when he scowled fiercely at her.
And the love scene between Lainie and Will, always awkward for at least one of the participants, now had the effect of making everyone in the vicinity uncomfortable, for one reason or another. Will almost kissed Lainie’s chin instead of her mouth; his eyes kept straying to the dark, dangerous presence over her shoulder. Richard’s hand tightened around his tankard with such force that the handle cracked and a grip had to run for a spare. Chloe’s gaze kept darting anxiously between the three of them.
It was with utter disgust that Bennett called an end to the run-through. “But don’t think you’re going anywhere. And get me a coffee,” he snapped at Margaret, who rolled her eyes as she walked away. “We’ll have an understudy rehearsal of the second act, so we can all compare performances and wonder why the fuck the four of you are receiving principal pay. At three o’clock, we’ll take another stab at the final four scenes. Endeavour to make them less of a travesty. Tonight’s audience paid to see a Bennett production, not a free-for-all at the local kindergarten.”
Lainie followed Chloe into the wings, grateful to get out from under the lights and away from Bennett’s critical eye for a while. It was uncomfortable, having her relationship dynamics witnessed and dissected by most of her coworkers.
Will tried to speak to her again, but she pulled her arm free of his grip. Richard stalked past them without even a sidelong glance.
She went back to her dressing room. She needed to gather her defences, raid her chocolate stash and get her act together. They couldn’t behave like that onstage tonight. Professional standards didn’t need to go out the window with her relationship status.
In a ridiculous flash of hope, her breath caught when someone knocked on the door. Sanity returned quickly. Richard was not going to seek her out right now for anything less than a civil emergency, and he wouldn’t politely knock under any circumstances.
“Come in.” If it was Will, she was letting fly with her powder compact this time.
The door opened and Lynette Stern came in. She surveyed Lainie where she sat sprawled in front of her vanity table, then sat down on the armchair and helped herself to a few chocolates. “We seem to have our first hiccup.”
Lainie rescued the remaining chocolates before Lynette could eat all the strawberry creams. She made a pile of her particular favourites on the table. She was not having a good day. The prospect of comfort sex was exceedingly slim, so she was going to require her full quota of chocolate.
“No offence, but I don’t recall agreeing to a ménage. ‘We’ is Richard and me. And we stopped being PR property quite some time ago. And I don’t think he views the situation quite that lightly.”
“And how exactly did the ‘situation,’ as you put it, arise?” Lynette warily bit the corner from a chocolate and peered into its interior. “Richard is far too wily to bleat to the press about his father. I was unaware of that particular blip in his history. He doesn’t seem to have made a habit of sharing confidences over a cuppa. Logic would thus condemn you as the weak link.”