Acting Up (9 page)

Ethan could almost hear her eyes roll back in her head. “Good grief. What do they think I'm going to do? Pass out illegal substances during rehearsals?”

He whirled around to face her. “Don't ever say that out loud again.”

Addison held up two hands in surrender. “I was only joking.”

“I know, but this isn't Hollywood. Jokes like that can be taken the wrong way around here.”

“Okay. Warning heard and understood.”

He turned one more corner and stopped at a pair of doors.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“The chorus room. The parents wouldn't fit in my office.”

“I thought you said there were only a few parents.”

“I may have underestimated for your sake,” he said, reaching for the door handle.

“Wait.” She put her hand over his. “Ethan, I don't want to cause trouble for you. I can tell everyone I've decided to back out. I'll just say I can find better uses for my time than babysitting a bunch of school kids.”

In other words, she'd fall on the sword. The unexpected and surprisingly sweet gesture reached inside him and took hold. It had been a long time since he'd had anyone try to protect him. He'd been operating in solo-mode for so long he'd almost forgotten what it felt like to know someone else had his back.

“You'd play the bad guy?” he asked.

“Apparently you never watched my show,” she said, a wry grin touching her lips. “It's what I'm good at.”

No, he was beginning to suspect the bad girl image might be an act. His eyes searched hers. “Do you still want to direct the play?”

“Yes.” The answer seemed to surprise even her.

He allowed a small smile. “Then you will.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, still offering him an out.

“Yes. And for the record, I don't kowtow to bullies, troublemakers, or overbearing parents.” He turned to open the door. “Let me go in first.”

“So you can take the first fire?”

“If necessary.”

The room was buzzing like a thousand angry bees, and as Ethan strode in, the clamoring grew louder. People started shouting.

“Well, it's about time!”

“Are you going to do something?”

“What's going on?”

The chatter ceased in an instant when they spotted Addison. All eyes went to her, and, to her credit, she didn't so much as flinch.

Ethan held up his hand. “Ladies and gentlemen. I asked Ms. Covington to come down here because I wanted you to meet her. So you would see she's no threat to anyone. I understand your anxiety. I know you only want what's best for your children, but going after Ms. Covington is not a battle we should be waging.”

The murmur of angry voices started buzzing again.

“We lead a simple life here, Ethan,” one of the parents said. “We don't want someone coming in and undermining our values. What we stand for.”

“No one is going to be undermining values,” he said. “Besides, we're called to love, not judge one another. Ms. Covington has done nothing to deserve our contempt.”

Mrs. Turney stood up. “Ethan, she's been involved in a public scandal. We don't want that kind of thing invited into this school.”

Several of the other parents nodded in agreement.

Ethan fought back the urge to tell the whole room to stuff their judgmental attitudes down their throats. “The only
scandal
was caused by Ms. Covington's husband. He vowed to love and honor her, but instead he subjected her to months of public humiliation. She deserves our compassion, not our condemnation.”

In the midst of the low buzz of anger, Addison stepped into the fray. “May I say something?”

He turned to her. His first impulse was to say no. To keep her out of the fray as much as possible. There was no telling what she'd do or say. She could prove everybody right and make him seem like a fool.

Addison sent him an I've-got-this smile, and after a moment, Ethan nodded.

As she stepped closer to the group of parents, he couldn't help but notice how tiny she looked. Standing there, staring down an angry mob, she might have been a fighter facing the spectators in the coliseum. Dread swallowed him as she moved forward and began scanning the sea of faces in the room. He had the sudden urge to scoop her up and run. Get her as far away from the line of fire as possible.

There went his latent protective instincts again. He had to stop; otherwise, he'd convince himself Addison was in need of his protection. That she was like any other woman.

Finally, Addison began to speak. “It warms my heart to see so many parents concerned about their children's welfare,” she said, her voice soft as a breeze. “To say my relationship with my mother is strained would be an understatement. There were times growing up when I doubted if she even cared whether or not I was taught the right values.”

Good grief. No wonder she was such an accomplished actress. Addison Covington might be small, but she could command a room with effortless ease. She drew even closer to her audience, her eyes searching the crowd. Ethan couldn't help wondering where she was going with her little speech. Couldn't help wondering how much of it was true, either. When she zeroed in on two of the men, Ethan had the strangest notion she'd picked her marks.

“Some of you know I first came to Covington Falls under tragic circumstances,” she continued. “My father was my knight-in-shining-armor, as I'm sure you fathers are to your daughters. When he died, much of my heart went with him. Covington Falls became my oasis and allowed me to heal.”

The two men shifted in their seats, and incredibly, one of the women pulled out a tissue and blotted her eyes.

“I recently lost another man I put my trust in,” Addison said. “Only he didn't leave by accident. I'm ashamed to admit I let my emotions get away with me. I know violence is never the answer, but sometimes our judgment deserts us. Now, I've come back to heal. Again.”

Ethan lost interest in the parents. He was wholly involved in watching Addison work the room like a maestro conducting an orchestra. Her face reflected nothing but sincerity, her voice controlled but shimmering with emotion. He'd never seen anything like it.

“I came here to hide out. Then the opportunity to direct the play emerged, and I thought it was a beautiful way to give back. Helping your children is my way of saying thank you for your past generosity and the love you once showed me. Please believe me when I say I would never do anything to hurt your children. I consider them
my
children now.”

One woman sobbed out loud. Mrs. Turney glared at the traitor, but the damage had been done. Several people started clapping.

Ethan came up behind Addison and put his hands on her shoulders. For a brief moment, she stiffened. Then she leaned back against him. A jolt of sensation careened through his body like a bullet, but he forced himself to stay where he was.

“You all have allowed me to care for the students here for several years now,” he said. “I hope you know every decision I make is in their best interest. You can put your faith in Ms. Covington. I trust her with my sons. They already adore her, and I know your children will feel the same way.”

Addison pulled away and walked toward Lisa's parents. Ethan waited, wondering what she'd come up with to win them over.

“I cast Lisa as Bree because I felt she was the best for the role,” Addison said. “She's very talented. I don't believe anyone else could handle the part as well. It takes someone with great stage presence and confidence, and Lisa has it in spades. She's wonderful, and I'm so looking forward to developing her talent.”

Flattery,
Ethan thought. He could only admire her tactic.

Mrs. Turney twittered, and Lisa's father puffed out his chest with pride. “Well, when you put it like that,” Mrs. Turney said. “If you need her to make the play a success—”

“Oh, I do.”

A beatific smile flashed across Mrs. Turney's face. “I know Lisa will make you proud.”

“I'm sure she'll make us
all
proud someday.”

Mrs. Turney turned to her husband. “You see, Bill. I told you we were making a big stink over nothing.”

Mr. Turney's eyes nearly popped out of his head, but he shook his head. “Whatever you say, dear.”

Addison turned and walked back over toward Ethan. As she passed, she gave him a saucy wink. He covered his mouth and coughed. The parents started filing out of the room. Many of them stopped to shake Addison's hand. She greeted each one.

Finally, they were all gone.

She turned to Ethan. “I think that went rather well, don't you?”

He shook his head. “You're unbelievable.”

She blew on her nails and rubbed them against her shirt. “I am a pro.”

“Did you mean anything you said?” he asked.

He couldn't help but wonder how much of her act had been real. On some level, he knew he should be appalled at how easily she'd manipulated everyone. Couldn't help but wonder if he'd been taken in as well. She made her living creating illusions, after all. Her whole speech might have been a pack of lies. Still, some of it had to be true. He knew her father had died in an accident and that she'd come to live with Ruth Carlson afterward.

Instead of being hurt by the accusation, Addison chuckled. “I may have embellished some, but most of it was true. I do hope I can give something back to the community.”

“And Lisa?”

“She really is best suited for the role.”

He couldn't help grinning. “Did you embellish there, too?”

“Maybe a little,” Addison said, holding up her thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

“Amazing. Here I thought we'd have a real battle on our hands.”

“You were pretty good, too.” She turned to him, her smile dimming somewhat. “Did you mean the part about trusting me?”

“Yes.” At least as far as the kids went. His heart was a different story.

“I didn't even think you liked me.”

The comment went straight to his gut. No, the problem was he was coming to like her more than was healthy. “It's not a question of me liking you. The situation is a lot more complicated.”

“I see,” she said, though she probably didn't understand at all. “Anyway, thank you for defending me. It's been a long time since anyone stood up for me. Fought for me.”

For once, he knew she was being completely honest, and the knowledge did nothing to stop the growing threat she posed to his emotions. Was it possible Addison was just as alone and lost as he'd been the last two years? Did she lie awake at night fighting the suffocating despair?

He did know Addison deserved better than what her scum-of-an-ex-husband had dished out.

His eyes drifted over her face. “That is a shame, Alice Jones,” he said. “Because you deserve to have someone fight for you.”

Okay, Addison, deep breaths. Above all, don't pass out. It would make such a bad impression on the cast.

Too bad her lungs refused to work. Her deep breathing exercises seemed more suited to a pregnant woman at a Lamaze class. What had she been thinking? She couldn't direct a musical. Obviously the divorce had scrambled her brain. Her stomach roiled, and sweat broke out all over her body. She had to get herself together. The students were waiting in the auditorium while she contemplated finding a paper bag backstage.

Her assistant director seemed unfazed by the enormous task ahead of them. “Addison, everyone's waiting to get started,” Marjorie said.

“Sure. I'm coming.”

Marjorie came closer. “What's wrong? You look like you're about to pass out.”

“Would you believe stage fright?”

Her eyes widened. “You're Addison Covington. What do you have to be nervous about?”

“Did you know I threw up at my very first audition?”

“No.” Wariness flooded Marjorie's face and she stepped back. “Do you need a trash can?”

“Do you think I'm crazy to take on directing a musical? What if I screw up?”

“You won't.”

Addison chuckled. “Did you happen to miss the news coverage about my life? All I've done this past year is screw up.”

Marjorie took Addison's hands. “Okay. I want you to close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Just do it, Ms. Covington.”

Addison followed orders.

“Lord, we ask now for Your guidance,” Marjorie prayed. “Put Your all-powerful hand over our entire production. I also ask You to give Your strength to Addison. Calm her spirit and give her confidence that she can do anything in Your name. Amen.”

A surprising thread of warmth spread out from Addison's hands and up her arms. The chills receded, and her insides stopped twisting like a pretzel.

Addison opened her eyes. “You prayed for me.”

“I know,” Marjorie said with a grin. “How did it feel?”

“Good. I can't remember the last time someone prayed for me. Thank you.”

Marjorie nodded. “Ready to go, boss?”

“As ready as I'll ever be.”