Chapter Three
“It took me a while to get a copy of it. I flipped through it, and it has good information about the history of theater in Pinewood Springs. It even has a chapter on the ghosts that haunt the area.” Devin laughed.
“I can’t wait to delve into it,” she said, thinking how lucky she was to have met Devin soon after she began working at the Centerstage Theatre.
She’d wandered over to the Pinewood Springs Museum of Natural History and had fallen in love with it.
The museum showcased what life was like for the Ute Native American tribe before and after the western expansion as well as what life was once like for the early settlers of the area.
What Casey loved most was the museum contained a small library that housed out-of-print books about the history of the area.
When she met Devin there, she was thrilled that he loved old historical books as much as she did, and he had been finding wonderful gems for her to read ever since.
“When are you going to have the time for that? I mean you work like four jobs,” Devin said, plopping down on the chair in front of her desk.
“Only three.”
“Yeah, that’s right, only three.”
“What can I say? I have to eat in addition to paying my bills,” Casey said. Courtesy of my ex-asshole and my unwise decision in having joint credit accounts.
“When you have a chance, you should check out the new fall exhibit I’m preparing for the museum,” Devin said.
“I’ll try and make time to get over there this week.
The theater is really buzzing now in anticipation of opening night in a few weeks, so I’ve been wrapped up with that.
As you know, Raven, the lead actress, is a bundle of nerves.
She always receives rave reviews and the audience loves her.
Anyway, she’s been telling me about the exhibit though and the activities surrounding it.
She said you’re going to have narrators read ghostly stories, too. It sounds creepy.”
A little line creased the center of Devin’s forehead.
“It was her idea not mine. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have gone along with it.
But you know Ameila, she loves having Raven involved with anything at the museum.
The boss lady is enchanted by actors, so of course, she’d jump at any suggestion Raven has. ”
Casey smiled. “I think it’s a good idea. People love to be scared, and Halloween is just around the corner, so what could be better timing than that?”
Devin shook his head. “It’s not the idea I’m opposed to; it’s the motivation behind it.
Raven is using it to get more attention for herself as an actress.
She’s also suggested her husband Curtis be one of the narrators.
All she wants is to get people into his shop to spend money on ridiculous crystal balls, spell books, or whatever else he sells. ”
“Raven is the stereotype of an actor—always on stage and looking for more parts. She’s a very interesting person. I like her. I admit that Curtis is the complete opposite of her. He’s serious and intense. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile or laugh.”
“He claims he’s a psychic, but I think he’s more psycho than psychic. Do you believe in all that stuff he peddles at his store?”
Casey shrugged. “I never thought about it.”
“Spells, curses, knowing someone’s future? I think it’s all bogus.” Devin shifted in the chair.
“I think if someone really believes, I mean down to the core, that a spell will work or someone put a curse on them, it will come to be. It’s more a power of the mind thing.
Anyway, there are a lot of people who must believe it because his store is doing great, from the way Raven tells it.
I suspect they’ll have a lucrative Halloween season. ”
“People are too gullible.” A beep sounded and Devin looked down at his phone. A sigh pushed through his lips. “I got a text from the boss lady. I better get going.” He pushed up from the chair.
“Thanks again for bringing the book over. I’ll bring it back when I’m done.”
“No rush. No one’s requested that book in three years. Take care.”
Casey watched Devin amble out of her office and opened the book he’d brought her.
As she began to riffle through the pages, a whisper of earthiness escaped as they rustled and cracked beneath her fingertips.
All at once she was transported back to the branch library near the projects where she had sometimes lived with her mother.
Casey would spend hours in a tweed armchair in the corner of the library, sifting through piles of books, immersing herself in the lives of historical figures, fictional characters, and worlds that offered the stability and love she didn’t have in her own life.
Books never disappointed her, unlike her mother and life’s circumstances.
“Did you get the okay on the marketing campaign?” Raven’s voice invaded her thoughts.
Looking up, Casey smiled at the actor. “Yes, finally. I had to beg to get the extra budget for it.”
Raven clapped her hands. “I’m glad you’re good at begging.
The last public relations manager we had never put up a fight.
We all threw a party after she left. She never cared about the plays, the actors, or anything other than trying to hook a husband.
She was right out of the 1940s or something.
” Pointing at the book Casey had laid down on the desk, she said, “Did Devin bring you that?”
“He did. He knows I’m fascinated with the history of the theater in the mountain towns. I’m writing an article on it for Colorado Magazine. I’m excited about it, and the pay is really good. I couldn’t turn it down.”
“I think Devin has a crush on you.”
Shaking her head, Casey laughed. “No, he’s just as big of a geek as I am when it comes to the Old West and its history. I guess that’s why he’s a perfect fit for the museum. How’s the play going? Opening night is only a few weeks away.”
“Don’t remind me,” Raven said. “I always feel as though I can do better with whichever character I play. We have some areas we still need to polish up a bit.”
A rap on the door had Raven turning around and Casey looking over. Casey’s breath hitched when she saw him standing in the doorway. A brief flash of surprise skipped over his face before his hazel eyes bore into her.
“It’s you.” The words escaped her lips before she could stop them.
He leaned in the doorway like he owned the air around him—shoulder pressed against the frame, a whisper of a smile playing on his lips.
Her gaze skittered over his sleeveless T-shirt that showed off an array of tattoos on his toned arms. She took in his lean and hard-muscled body in black jeans and the snugness of the denim against his crotch, hinting of deliciousness.
Forcing herself to glance downward, the black boots confirmed what she already knew: he was a biker rebel through and through. And he made her mouth go dry.
He didn’t say a word, he just stood there, watching her like she was the only thing worth noticing in the whole damn office.
Her eyes followed his movements as he folded his arms across a firm chest, making the ink on his forearm shift with the motion.
“Hey,” he grunted.
“Hey,” Raven responded.
Without a glance at the actress, piercing eyes drifted over Casey in a slow sweep, pausing for a long second at her breasts, then moving up and stalling on her lips before his gaze latched onto hers. Her breath caught at the feral look in his eyes.
“I better get back or Simon will have my head.” Raven’s words and nervous laugh filled the highly-charged room.
“What?” Casey said, forcing herself to turn away.
“You know, our director. He’s driving us harder the closer we get to opening night.” She pushed away from the desk, mouthed “Hell yeah” to Casey with a slight jerk of her head toward the man in the doorway, then sauntered out of the room.
“What are you doing here?” she said, forcing her voice to be steady and nonchalant.
“I could ask you the same thing.” He pushed away from the door jamb and walked over to the desk. The air between them tightened. She could smell the oily sweetness of gasoline, the deep, earthy scent of fallen leaves, and the crisp freshness of mountain air.
He picked up the gold-toned nameplate and ran a finger over the letters. “Casey Reese.” His voice was low with a slight edge to it.
She reached out and snatched the metal plate from his hands. “May I help you with something?”
“That’s a loaded question.” His low, husky voice slid over her, setting every nerve ending alive.
Damnit. Stop acting like a schoolgirl.
“Am I bothering you?” There was a glint of humor in his voice.
Sitting up straight, she shook her head. “Not at all. I’m busy and wondering why you’re here.”
“Is this your new job?”
“No. Look, I’m swamped with a lot of projects right now. I don’t have time to engage in small talk.”
“Is that what we’re doing, engaging in small talk?” His voice rumbled with a low, sexy timbre.
“Yes, I mean no.” She leaned back in the desk chair and brushed away a few unruly strands of her hair. “I don’t know. All I know, Mr. Kendrick, is I have work to do, and you’re disturbing me.”
“I can see that I’m disturbing you.” He leaned forward. “I like that you took the time to get my name off the receipt at the nursery.”
Shit. That was a rookie slip. “Don’t flatter yourself. I make a note of all customers’ names in case there’s a problem with their card or purchase.”
“I bet.”
Her temper sparked. “Again, don’t flatter yourself. You’re far too smug for—”
“Save it, sweetheart. I’m not interested. I just like teasing you because you get so pissed off.”
Casey stared hard at him. “What the hell are you doing in my office? I don’t have time to engage in childish games with a guy so full of himself, he’s ready to burst. Get out of my office. Now.”
His gaze narrowed and his jaw tightened.
She laughed. “You can dish it out but you can’t take it.”
“Woman, you’re one know-it-all pain in the ass.”