“I want to thank you for giving me the chance to play Vole. I realize you could call in another name actor to fill the part.”
“No qualms?” No, Roarke thought, he didn’t see qualms. But ambition. “Considering what happened to Draco, I wondered if you might be somewhat anxious about stepping into the role.”
“No, I’m fine with it. I don’t mean fine,” he corrected and had the grace to flush. “It’s terrible what happened to Richard. Just terrible. But—”
“The show must go on,” Roarke said smoothly, then glanced over. “Ah, Eliza, and Areena. Ladies, thank you for coming.”
“Your call saved me from boredom and brooding.” Eliza stepped up, brushed her cheek to Roarke’s. “The boredom of being between acts. And brooding over Kenneth. I still can’t believe what I’m hearing on the news.”
“Don’t,” Areena said. “There’s a mistake. There must be.” She rubbed her chilly arms. “It’s so odd to be here again. I haven’t been back since…since opening night.”
“Will you be all right with this?” Roarke took her hand, warmed it in his own.
“Yes. Yes, I must be, mustn’t I? None of us have any choice but to go on.”
“Why shouldn’t we?” Carly made an entrance. A deliberate one. She’d applied dramatic makeup to go with an electric blue dress that scooped low at the breasts, stopped short at the thighs.
For power, she’d told herself. She was damn well going to be powerful.
“None of us gave a damn about the late, unlamented Richard Draco.”
“Carly,” Areena murmured it, a quiet censure.
“Oh, save the fragile sensibilities for the audience. He fucked us all over at one time or another. Some of us literally,” she added with a tight, fierce smile. “We’re not here to dedicate our next performance to his memory. We’re here because we want to get back to work.”
“He may have been a bastard, dear,” Eliza said mildly, “but dead is dead. And now Kenneth’s in the hospital, and under guard.”
“Kenneth ought to be given a medal for ridding the world of Richard Draco.”
“They haven’t charged him yet.” Areena twisted her fingers together. “Can’t we just discuss the play and get away from the ugliness for a little while? Is this a full cast call, Roarke?” She brushed a hand over her hair, looked around. “I was sure the director would be here by now.”
“Difficult to arrange a full cast call at the moment.” Roarke let the implications of that hang. “The part of Sir Wilfred will need to be recast.”
“Couldn’t we rehearse with a stand-in?” Michael asked. “I’ve never run through an entire act with the first cast. It would be helpful for me to do that as soon as possible.”
“There you go, Michael.” Carly laughed. “No moss growing on you.”
“You just said we were here to work,” he shot back. “There’s no reason to snipe at me.”
“Maybe I’m feeling snipey. You’re just sulking because I kicked you out of my apartment instead of crying on your shoulder.”
“I would’ve helped,” he said quietly. “I would have tried.”
“I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone.” Her eyes glinted with an inner fury that burned into her voice. “I slept with you. Big deal. Don’t think you mean anything to me. No man is ever going to mean anything to me.”
“Once more, sex rears its ugly head,” Eliza muttered. “Must we forever have glands interfering with art?”
“Eliza.” Areena stepped forward, laid a hand on Carly’s arm. “Carly, please. We need to get along. We need to stick together.” She tried a bolstering smile. “What must Roarke think of us, bickering this way?”
“I’d say you’re all under considerable strain.” He paused, skimming his eyes over the faces turned toward him. “And that if any or all of you feel unable to continue with the run of the play, I’d prefer to know sooner than later.”
Carly threw back her head and laughed. “Oh please. Each and every one of us would claw through broken glass for a chance to perform in this one. The publicity will pack this house for weeks when we open again, and every one of us knows it. Nothing as irksome as murder will get in our way.”
She tossed her hair back, stretching out her arms as she crossed the stage. “So bring on a stand-in for the inestimable Sir Wilfred, cast a goddamn droid in the role, it’ll still be standing room only.”
She whirled back, arms still lifted. “Go ahead, Roarke, throw open the doors. Let the play begin.”
As cues went, Eve figured it was near to perfect. “It never stopped,” she said, and moved from the wing’s shadows to the lights.