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Her enormous brown eyes are more captivating than anything I’ve ever seen, even though her sweet, heart-shaped face is smudged with makeup to make her appear shabby.
That’s the funniest thing about this whole production: she doesn’t belong on that stage.
She belongs on Broadway. She belongs … with me.
I tear my eyes away for half a second and glance around at other members in the audience. I’m clearly not the only one here who has been bewitched by her.
A dormant, territorial beast awakens in my chest. She’s mine. I want her, and I don’t share well with others.
I am not a man who wants people. I want things. I see a crumbling old coastal resort, and my skin itches. When I see the potential, I want it for myself.
But her. I would not change a thing.
Every time the actor playing Henry Higgins comes anywhere near her, my fists clench.
At one time, I had thought that if I ever met my match, it would be at our annual shareholders meeting. But no. I’m struck by Cupid’s arrow while covered in bug spray in a public park adjacent to a frisbee golf course. What the hell is frisbee golf, anyway? It’s not golf at all without clubs and greens, and…oh god, what is happening to me?
This mystery woman has got me turned so completely upside down I nearly forget the reason I’ve come here tonight. At intermission, Miles has to elbow me to distract me from flipping through the playbill to find her.
“Oh. That’s right. Dammit, where’d he go?”
Miles and I find Ford in the crowd without too much trouble. I zero in on him. No longer worried about appearing too eager, I waste no time approaching him.
I shake Weston Ford’s hand vigorously. “We spoke on the phone yesterday. As I said, my daughter Ridley attends Greenbridge Academy, and she and her swim teammates have a problem. I’ve been asked to help solve that problem.” Weston Ford listens while I make my pitch, which ends with a generous salary offer as reflected in the paperwork that Miles hands over to him.
Ford counters right away with a higher salary. I have to respect him for that. I tell him I’ll get back to him. I consider countering with an immediate “yes,” so I can get on with googling the name of the actress playing Eliza Doolittle, but unfortunately I don’t have that authority without the approval of the rest of the board of trustees. However, I can make a few calls and if anyone whines about Weston’s counter offer, I can personally make up the difference. It’s what I do.
We shake hands and I assure him that I’ll have Miles come back to him with the board’s decision tomorrow.
Business attended to, I whip out my phone flashlight and get back to studying the program.
“You coming?” I barely glance up at Miles, who looks anxious to leave.
“I think I’m going to stay.”
He laughs incredulously and peeks at what I’m doing.
“Hunter Rydell.” I murmur her name and it falls from my lips like poetry. Will we be changing her name to Rushmore? Maybe, but I think hyphenated has a better ring to it. Hunter Rydell-Rushmore. That’s the name of my next wife. My second and last wife if I don’t fuck this up.
I hear Miles’s voice issue a warning.
“Easy, Hoss. I don’t think she’s even legal.”
I raise my eyebrow at the nickname as I hold up the program. “You didn’t read the playbill. Her bio says she’s 18.”
Mile lets out a sharp guffaw. “And she’s on the swim team with your daughter. If Martha finds out the board of trustees president is fixating on one of her students, she will shit a brick.”
I meet his gaze with the fierceness of an angry bull, the face I typically reserve for Rushmore Hospitality Group board meetings when the chairman behaves like a little bitch. “I have an easy fix for that. Don’t tell her.”
Miles opens his mouth to reply but the stage lights go on and the music swells and I can barely understand what he’s saying. All I catch are the words “Hunter’s father,” “attorney,” and “beast.” He chuckles and pats me on the shoulder before leaving.
I make my way back to my godforsaken lawn chair and try to settle in for the rest of the show. But I cannot settle. I can’t sit still. I have to stand because everything in my life is about to change and I’m feeling things I barely recognize building in my heart.
Standing at the back and off to the side to avoid getting in anyone’s line of sight, I curse the fact that I’m not closer to her.
By the time she appears in a knockout ball gown, I’m so overcome I’m nearly singing all these silly songs right along with her.
I text my assistant, Pearce.
