Page 31 of The Best Christmas Choir Ever

She couldn’t be serious. “Who could even tell?”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “Oh sorry, do you have a master’s degree in music?”

“No, and neither does most of the Arts Council, I bet.”

Julian watched Charlie’s whole face shift from frustration to anger, her brows knitting together. Okay, maybe he shouldn’t be antagonizing the one person who might actually be able to help him pull this off, but honestly this was getting out of hand.

Charlie needed to relax and deal with whatever was really bothering her, because how could she be this impatient with a bunch of seventysomethings trying their best? He was starting to feel a little irritated with her himself, remembering how hard he’d tried to get her to open up before she ghosted him eight years ago. He’d realized she was pulling away, but despite how often he asked her if something was wrong, she denied it, and then it was just over. And here he was again, asking if she was okay while she avoided his question.

Doris turned around on the piano bench, her hands pressed against her knees as she regarded Charlie. “Now we really do need to take five,” she said, fiddling with her watch. “I’m starting a timer.”

“Fine,” Charlie huffed.

“Fine,” Julian said. What was another five minutes?

Charlie stormed away to the table where she kept a book full of notes and started writing furiously. Julian went to brood on the other side of the room just as Diane popped her head in.

“Hey! How’s everything going?”

“Oh,” he said, caught off guard by her appearance. “Er…good. Great!” He looked around at the choir, mingling in tiny groups, throwing nervous glances in Charlie’s direction. “They’ve been working really hard this morning, so we’re taking a bit of a break. We’re trying to get our audition video recorded.”

“Yes, right. I remember you telling me that. Well, they’re sounding better and better every time I pass by the room.”

“You think?” Julian glanced over his shoulder to see if Charlie was listening. See, he wanted to say to her, but that probably wouldn’t help his case.

“Absolutely. I’ve heard nothing but good things from the staff for days. Everyone’s really excited about Glendale possibly performing on Christmas Eve. We’ve all got our fingers crossed for you. I just wanted to tell you that I’m really impressed with your out-of-the-box thinking here.”

“Thanks,” Julian said. “I appreciate that.” It was a long shot, perhaps, but it was better than sitting around for the rest of the year, wishing for money to appear. “I figured this beat writing up another proposal that’ll probably end up in some shredder.”

Diane nodded. “I have a positive feeling about this.”

Julian grinned. “You sure that isn’t all the candy canes and caffeine?”

“Might be.” She laughed. “Either way I just wanted you to know that all your hard work isn’t going unnoticed. And if I had the budget, it’d be yours.”

“I know,” Julian said. He knew that if Diane could offer the support, she would. But he also understood that other things took priority, and she had to make tough decisions every day. Sort of the way he was going to have to make the tough decision to poke the grumpy Charlie-bear and attempt to film this video again.

“I’ll let you get back to it,” Diane said. “But can I throw my hat in the ring for ‘Deck the Halls’ for the final performance? Feels like all those fa-la-la-la-las would be a crowd-pleaser.”

“I’ll have the board take it under advisement,” he joked. When she was gone, Julian turned around, bracing himself for round three…four? He’d lost count. All he could do was hope his out-of-the-box idea didn’t crash and burn with the making of this video. He walked over to Charlie. “I think the choir’s ready to give this another shot.”

Charlie looked up at him from beneath her fluttery lashes. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but boy, could he still sense the frustration that burned between them in her stiff posture and in the tight set of her mouth. Not that he was looking at it.

He cleared his throat. “If you’re ready, that is.”

“I’m ready.” She breezed past him and called the choir back to their positions. Doris nodded from the piano. “Here we go,” Charlie said. “And one…and two…and…”

Julian pulled out his phone and started recording. He stood perfectly still, afraid that an errant breeze might cause Charlie to halt the choir, but to his surprise, they reached the end of the song without any mishaps. He let out a relieved breath. Maybe Doris had made a good call. All they needed was a proper break to reset things.

Julian played the video back, his grin falling away the longer he watched. Now that he was really examining the choir, he couldn’t ignore how rigid they appeared. They actually looked like they were afraid to move a muscle or crack a smile or do anything that would attract Charlie’s scrutiny. It was all so serious, and not in a let’s-win-this-competition way. It was more of a we-are-being-forced-to-stand-up-here-and-sing way. He couldn’t send this to the Arts Council. They’d be rejected for sure.

“Charlie?” he called, worrying his lip. She’d already gotten so aggravated with him when he’d mentioned that she was being critical. What would she say about this? “Can you come take a look at this with me?”

She neared, leaning around his arm to watch the video. When it was done, she gave a curt nod. “Looks like we got it.”

“Uh-huh, you don’t see anything wrong?”

“I mean, the audio quality isn’t the greatest,” she said, “but that’s more a problem with your phone.”