CHAPTER TEN
Mari stood in Huntly’s living room gazing out the windows. ‘This is an incredible view.’ The lights of the city were sparkling all around and the inky sky was filled with stars.
Nightglow shone through the windows, illuminating the living room. He’d kept the lights off for a few minutes so she could see the view.
‘All the rooms in the turret have a great view,’ said Huntly, gesturing to his bedroom, a spare room and the kitchen.
Her ballgown shimmered as she walked around, taking in the views from the kitchen after peering into Huntly’s bedrooms from the hallway, and avoiding any awkwardness of overstepping his privacy.
The entire apartment was stylishly furnished in light neutral tones, predominantly beige, white and light grey. It had exclusive quality to it, but he made her welcome.
‘Feel free to wander around. I’ll rustle us up dinner.’ He turned the lights on in the kitchen. Spotlights illuminated key features, like the work surface where he started to prepare the tomatoes, peppers and salad vegetables. Rows of twinkle lights edged their way around parts of the cupboards and the classic dresser, creating a theatre–like atmosphere amid the high level of cooking equipment.
Shiny pots and pans hung from one of the walls. They looked like they were used rather than a token gesture, but shone as if they’d been well–cleaned and properly stored. That was the feeling Mari had as she glanced around the kitchen from the doorway. If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve assumed Huntly was a top chef.
Seeing the efficient methods he used to rustle up their dinner, she didn’t offer to assist him, as she was sure she’d be a hindrance. Wearing a fairytale ballgown, she certainly wasn’t dressed to be his assistant.
Mari lingered in the doorway watching him chip–chop the orange, red and yellow peppers.
‘Come in and take a seat.’ Huntly motioned to one of the chairs around the kitchen table.
She drifted in a wisp of sparkling blue chiffon and sat down. The dining table in the living was set for an intimate dinner for two. This table had a salad bowl that Huntly was topping up with the peppers and tomatoes.
Glancing at the stove, nothing appeared to be cooking on the hobs, but the delicious aroma of a savoury dish filled the air.
‘The pie is in the oven,’ he said. ‘I prepared it earlier so I could just heat it up.’
‘It smells delicious.’ She hadn’t realised how hungry she was, having had nothing substantial since breakfast at the cafe.
‘I hope you’re hungry. It’s a savoury potato pie. I heard you talking about what you liked when we had dinner with Jon and Andy.’ He described the contents, chunks of potato, chopped onion, greentails, Scottish cheddar cheese and seasoning. He’d even made his own shortcrust pastry.
When he opened the oven to check the pie, she saw that he’d decorated the top of the pie with shortcrust star shapes.
‘I’m impressed,’ Mari told him.
‘I love to cook.’ Huntly looked like he was in his element, moving around the kitchen with practised ease.
He’d clearly made an effort and yet it wasn’t an exertion for him to rustle up their dinner. Soon, she was being shooed through to the living room where he started to serve up dinner for two.
She sat down at the table he’d set with classic white plates, silverware, linen napkins and glass table lamps that flickered with candlelight. Lamps in the living room added to the warm glow, but didn’t eclipse the view of the glittering lights outside the windows.
Serving up two generous slices of the potato pie with its golden shortcrust pastry, and a side salad sprinkled with greentails, he offered her scoops of chutney. Mari opted for bramble.
‘Thank you for this,’ she said, wondering when to broach on the subject of Scarlet, not wanting to break the fairytale atmosphere.
Huntly spoke up first as they tucked into their meal. ‘I invited you to dinner so we could talk in private. We haven’t had a chance since we met.’ He sounded as if there was something specific on his mind.
Mari steeled herself. Was the fairytale about to be shattered or tainted with a dose of reality?
He took a deep breath and looked across the table at her. His heart took a hit every time he dropped his guard and let himself believe that he should ask her out on a proper date. Tonight wasn’t the right time, and maybe there never would be, as he began...
‘You’re a talented writer. We’re pushing ahead with the publicity for the play. The journalist from the magazine is only the start of it.’ He took another deep breath. ‘The thing is, other theatres and directors are bound to take an interest and will approach you with offers to write for them, or to snap up any new plays you’ve written or are currently writing.’
Mari nodded, letting him get it all out in the open.
‘As you’re not experienced in this industry, I thought I should discuss this with you. I’ve already had a couple of people I know in this business call me about this. And murmurings from others getting wind that there’s a new and exciting talent in our midst.’
‘Word seems to travel fast.’
‘The touch paper has been lit. Now you’ll have to decide what your next move is that will benefit your career. Bluntly, and I hope I’m not overstepping, but you strike me as a level–headed but career driven young woman, so I don’t want you to feel awkward about accepting offers that would further your playwriting. Of course, Niall and I want first dibs on your new plays, but we wouldn’t dream of holding you back. That wouldn’t benefit any of us in the long run. And most of all, it wouldn’t be right for you, and we’ve no intention of creating tensions and theatrics.’
‘Phew! That’s a relief, because that’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about.’
Huntly gestured for her to tell him what was on her mind while he ate his dinner.
‘Scarlet says her director wants to talk to me about any new plays I’m working on.’
‘Scarlet?’ This certainly took him aback.
Mari explained about them having breakfast and what they’d discussed regarding her new plays. She kept the second topic under wraps for the moment.
‘Has her director contacted you yet?’
‘No, but he may have done by now. I’ve left my phone in my bag down in wardrobe. I’d brought a copy of the knitted cat pattern with me too.’
Huntly had switched his phone off, not wanting them to be disturbed while they had dinner. ‘Leave it there for now. Check it later. Let’s talk. What was the other thing you wanted to tell me.’
Here goes, Mari thought, unsure how he’d react to the news. ‘Scarlet likes Jon.’
Huntly frowned. ‘She’s always arguing with him. He rubs her feathers up the wrong way.’
Mari shook her head. ‘No, she acts that way because she’s in love with him.’
Huntly sat back in his chair and his eyes showed his total surprise. ‘So, she’s not...’
‘Scarlet has no wish to date you.’ There was no way to sugar the pill.
‘Well, that’s...wonderful.’
They went on to discuss the ramifications of this reveal.
‘Does she intend telling Jon?’ he said.
‘I rather get the impression that she’d like me to fan the flames of that gossip. She told me that none of this needs to be kept a secret.’
A mischievous expression lit up Huntly’s face. ‘Then let’s tell Jon before he hears it secondhand from someone else.’
‘I don’t know Jon well enough. You should tell him.’
Huntly needed little encouragement. He switched his phone back on and made the call. ‘I can’t wait to see his face when he hears this,’ he said quickly to Mari. ‘Despite everything Jon says about Scarlet being annoying and whatever, he thinks she’s gorgeous. But he’s convinced she doesn’t like him.’
Jon’s face peered out casually at Huntly as he accepted the call.
Mari listened as Huntly told him the news, not sugaring the pill either. She could hear Jon’s reaction, and Huntly turned the phone around so she could see him too.
Jon looked like he wanted to be happy about this, but was wondering if they were playing a joke on him.
‘It’s true. Scarlet told me,’ Mari assured Jon.
‘And we all thought it was heartthrob Huntly that she fancied,’ said Jon, keeping a lid on his reaction.
‘So...’ Huntly said to him.
‘So what?’ Jon replied.
‘It’s your move, Jon.’
Jon baulked at Huntly’s suggestion. ‘I can’t just call Scarlet up and say, hey, I hear we all had the wrong end of the stick, so do you want to go out to dinner with me?’
‘Why not?’ said Huntly.
Jon hesitated.
‘Call her,’ Mari encouraged him. ‘Invite her out to dinner.’
Jon peered out at them. ‘Is that a candlelight dinner you two matchmakers are having?’
‘We are,’ Huntly confirmed. ‘But we’re just talking shop and putting the world to rights.’
‘Starting with me risking having my heart skewed and fried by Scarlet,’ Jon said.
‘It’s worth the risk,’ Huntly told him. ‘You know you like her.’
‘Scarlet thinks you don’t rate her acting talent,’ Mari said to Jon. ‘But she says you’ve never seen her act in roles that make her shine.’
‘She’s probably, totally right,’ Jon admitted. He took a deep breath. ‘Okay, I’ll let you two scallywags get back to eating your nosh and call Scarlet.’
And Jon was gone.
‘Are you up for chocolate pudding?’ Huntly said, lifting their empty dinner plates through to the kitchen.
‘Oh, yes.’
She heard Huntly rustling around in the kitchen.
‘With whipped cream or ice cream?’ he called through to her.
‘Yes, please.’
Huntly laughed and dished up two puddings with a scoop of chocolate ice cream and whipped cream.
He carried them through and put the plates down on the table. ‘Tuck in.’
She did, enjoying the rich and delicious dessert.
‘Niall and I are planning to add lights to the front of the theatre so that people notice us,’ said Huntly. ‘And Wil has agreed to perform at our theatre one evening with his new dance show. He’s going to give us one of his posters to put in our front window.’
‘I’ll certainly buy a ticket to see that show.’
‘You’ll receive a complementary ticket. Unless Wil inveigles you to perform as one of the dancers,’ he teased her.
Mari laughed. ‘Eh, no, you want this dance show to be a success.’
Huntly smiled over at her, and she felt her heart react.
‘I thought you waltzed beautifully,’ he said. ‘You certainly did when you were dancing with me.’
‘You didn’t see the faltering footwork going on underneath my dress. The ballgown hid a multitude.’
He gazed over at her, his handsome face highlighted in the glow of the candlelight. ‘You were made for wearing a fairytale ballgown.’
She looked at the sparkle on the bodice of her dress glittering in the light. ‘This is the first time I’ve worn a ballgown ever.’
‘It won’t be the last. There’s a whirlwind of events coming up in the autumn and winter. Theatrical parties, dances, and the Christmas ball. Be prepared to dance your glass slippers off.’
Mari’s heart soared with excitement. ‘What a magical world you live in.’
‘For us, it’s real.’ He leaned back and opened his arms wide, gesturing around him. ‘And your world now too, remember.’
‘I’m still at the pinching myself level.’ She spooned up a mouthful of the rich chocolate pudding.
‘No you’re not,’ he said firmly. ‘We threw you in at the deep end the first day you came to the theatre to discuss your play. You’ve been sailing close to the wind with us ever since.’
‘You and your sword are forged into my memory forever.’
He laughed. ‘Apart from that faux pas though. You’ve adapted to all the things that have happened. You’ve even meddled in matchmaking Jon and Scarlet. Now that’s quite an achievement.’
‘I wonder how Jon’s getting on with her. Do you think he’ll have plucked up the nerve to call her?’
They were discussing this when a message came through on Huntly’s phone. He grinned as he read it to Mari. ‘Scarlet and I are having dinner tomorrow night.’
Mari smiled.
Huntly went to click his phone off, but saw he had another two messages. ‘Mind if I check these? One is from the magazine journalist. The other is from a theatre director I know.’
Mari nodded and continued to finish her delicious pudding.
Huntly read the journalist’s message. ‘The first part of the magazine feature is online.’ He hurried over to his laptop to access it.
‘That was fast.’
‘He worked as a newspaper journalist for the dailies, so he’s used to writing to tight deadlines,’ Huntly explained, skim–reading the editorial. ‘It’s mainly photos with captions. And he’s gleaned information about the play from the synopsis. But he’s written a nice piece about you.’
Mari went over and peered at the screen. There were several pictures of Huntly, Niall, Jon and Andy, along with ones of Wil dancing with Delphie.
‘What does it say?’ she said eagerly, her heart starting to race in anticipation.
Huntly read it, skipping over the parts about his theatre. ‘ A new play is due for an autumn release in the theatre. Intriguingly titled, The Shop That Sells Everything, it was written by a new and talented playwright .’
Mari gasped, seeing a picture of herself wearing the jumper and skirt from earlier. ‘Where did he get that photo? I don’t remember it being taken.’ It was flattering, but she was surprised to see it.
‘Peter was taking photos of everyone as they arrived. He gave copies to the journalist. Nice picture of you.’
‘It is...’ The caption named her as Marigold, a new playwright. But in the editorial she’d been quoted as Mari.
Huntly continued to read. ‘ This is my first play to be performed,’ Mari said. ‘I’m excited to be involved in the production, working with Jon the show’s director and Andy acting in the lead role of Oglesby with a mysterious cat called Spindle .’
Mari squeezed Huntly’s arm. ‘Oh my goodness. I’ve never been featured in a magazine before.’ It was an involuntary touch, but she felt the lean muscles in his arm beneath his shirt. He still wore the brocade waistcoat, and in that moment, she felt a spark of attraction between them.
Huntly didn’t make any move, but their faces were so close as they read the feature together, that he was sorely tempted to kiss her, even if only in the spur of the moment to congratulate her. But he didn’t.
Mari took her hand away and then listened as he read on.
‘ I’m currently writing my next play and reworking previous material,’ Mari said.
The remainder of the feature comprised of snippets from the synopsis revealing the play’s storyline. And lots of pictures.
‘There’s one of us waltzing on stage,’ he said.
Mari blinked, seeing herself in the beautiful ballgown, dancing with Huntly.
‘We look as though we know what we’re doing,’ he said with a grin.
‘My dress disguised a multitude of messy footwork.’
‘Your posture is excellent,’ he said.
‘You held me in a vice–like grip of determined steel. I could hardly look otherwise,’ she joked with him. ‘Even dipping me.’
Huntly grabbed her playfully. ‘Like this you mean?’
His gentle strength wrapped her in his arms and dipped her as if it was a dance finale.
She couldn’t breathe for giggling. ‘You’re a rascal!’
Laughing, he righted her again, and dodged her swiping at him.
Catching the heel of her shoe on the hem of her dress, she almost took a tumble, but Huntly caught her in his capable arms, and as he pulled her close, that spark ignited again between them.
A spark of electric static shot through the air too, causing her to squeal, while Huntly fought all sorts of urges that he’d told himself he would not do. Dinner was as friends, to discuss business and chat about the theatre. Romance wasn’t on the menu.
Clearing his thoughts, he spoke about the feature. ‘It says that other parts of the interview feature are being published soon.’
‘Oh, there’s a video clip,’ she said, noticing it at the top of the editorial.
Huntly clicked on it and they watched two minutes of Wil dancing with Mari, then with Huntly, Wil with Delphie, everyone on stage, including Niall, Jon and Andy.
He read the caption: ‘ Well–known dancer, Wil, and his dancers are performing his new dance show at the theatre for one special night. Tickets for the dance show and the new play will be available soon from the theatre .’
Seeing the mention of tickets for sale made Mari’s stomach flip with nerves. ‘Everything is such a whirlwind.’
‘You have to remember that we’re working at a fast rate. Shows usually take months to prepare. So when you’re working on your next play, you’ll have time to take things at a more leisurely pace,’ he assured her.
This brought the conversation full circle, back to the predicament of writing for other directors.
They’d barely touched on this, when two messages came through on Huntly’s phone. One was a reminder from the director from earlier that he wanted to speak to him as a matter of urgency.
‘Do you mind if I make a call to this director?’ said Huntly.
‘Go ahead,’ she said, clearing the pudding dishes and taking them through to the kitchen to give him a modicum of privacy.
Huntly didn’t want that. He followed her through while making the call, putting it on speaker so she could hear their conversation.
‘I’ve been hearing about this new playwright you’ve snapped up, Huntly.’
Mari mouthed to Huntly. Tea?
He nodded, and she filled the kettle.
The theatre director continued. ‘And I saw part of the magazine’s online feature. She looks like a beautiful talent. I’m obviously interested in meeting her to discuss her writing something new for me.’
Mari glanced at Huntly, wondering what he would say, but before he could reply, the director spoke again.
‘I assume you have first dibs on her next play.’
Mari nodded to Huntly, but he shook his head.
‘No, not at all,’ Huntly insisted, causing Mari to frown at him.
‘Okay, then, can you pass on my name, number and desire to speak to her when she has her next play available for reading?’
‘I’ll will,’ Huntly agreed, and the call ended shortly after that.
Mari set the cups up for the tea. ‘I don’t understand. I thought you’d be interested in seeing my new work.’
‘I am. So don’t get me wrong. I’d love first dibs on all your new plays. But that’s not wise for you. Imagine if you were introduced to a director and they said they’d like to read the first ten pages of something new you were writing. And what if you hadn’t shown it yet to Niall or me? You can’t be running to us to ask permission first to show your work to others.’
Now she understood. ‘And you’re okay with that?’
‘I want you to be a regular part of my theatre, but it’s nonsensical to stifle your creativity. I hope we can continue to work closely. But I don’t think you can build trust with shackles.’
Mari nodded, liking Huntly’s openness more than she wanted to say. Liking Huntly more than was good for either of them.
He stepped close and gazed down at her. ‘It’s like romance. It complicates everything.’
Mari nodded again, not entirely wanting to agree, and poured their tea. She handed him a cup.
He raised it in a cheers. ‘Not quite the champagne toast I had in mind.’
‘I’m happy with tea.’
Was she happy with him, he wondered, fighting against the clash of feelings surging through him.
‘To us, to your new play, to your wishes coming true.’
Mari tipped her cup against his in a toast, and almost spilled her tea when a flash of lightning lit up the night sky like nature’s fireworks.
‘A sign of things to come?’ he said tentatively.
‘Maybe,’ she said softly. But the sparks of attraction running through her heart warned her to be careful.