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THE EMILY THEATER OPENEDwith a film noir gala that kicked off with a showing ofThe Maltese Falcon.Guests wore evening attire, a relatively rare event in Lake in the Clouds, with most women choosing styles that fit the theme. “Face it,” Genevieve observed as she, Helen, and Willow watched the arriving guests from the third-floor office. “Nineteen forties fashion was simply the best. Classic and flattering.”
“Well, ladies.” Helen made a game show hostess sweeping gesture. “All I know is that we look gorgeous.”
Genevieve and Helen both wore long gowns, Genevieve in gold and Helen in red. Willow had settled on a cocktail dress in basic black with a fitted bodice and pencil skirt that hit just below her knee. She wore her hair up and a vintage pearl choker.
“Well, you and I aren’t too bad for a pair of old broads,” Genevieve said to her sister. “On the other hand, Willow could be a star of one of the movies we’re showing tonight.”
“Because I look dead?” Willow asked.
“You know that’s not what I meant. Glamorous. Lana Turner glamorous. Noah is going to swallow his tongue when he gets a look at you.”
“Might be lots of tongue swallowing going on tonight,” Helen commented. “Once Gage gets a look at you, Vivie.”
“Stop that!”
Helen laughed, then continued. “Our favorite grumpy firefighter just arrived. He’s wearing a suit. You know, it occurs to me that the next time we need to get involved in a fundraiser, we could do one of those calendars with sexy men. Think of our pool. Noah. Zach. Even Gage. No reason not to represent the sexy seniors. Or how about one of those bachelor auctions. Why—”
“Auntie!” Willow interrupted, laughing. “Stop. Just stop. I’m going downstairs now to meet my date.” She picked up her evening bag from the desk, then stopped in front of her mother. “Mom, congratulations. You’ve done a fabulous job. I’m so proud of and happy for you.”
“Thank you, honey. And thank you for all the work you did for tonight. I’m so glad that Gage suggested we use you as our event planner. You’re really good at this sort of thing, you know.”
“I know.” Smiling happily, Willow gave Genevieve a hug, then exited the office.
Genevieve started to say something to her sister, but Helen held up her hand, motioning her to stay quiet. She walked to the door and cracked it just enough to ensure they weren’t about to be disturbed. Then she turned the lock and said, “The e-mail arrived just as I left home.”
“The DNA test came back?”
“Yes. Just as we expected ever since we saw how closelyAJ resembles Emma, the test proves that he is Drew and Emma’s half sibling.”
Genevieve exhaled a long breath. “Okay, then. Well, we had to do that. So, on to step two?”
“Yes, step two. I’ll call the brother in the morning.”
“I don’t know, Helen. I’m having second thoughts. Maybe we should tell Willow.”
“Yes, in step three. We don’t know anything certain yet. We have suspicions. We could be wrong. Just like with DNA, let’s verify. Then in step three, we bring in Willow with facts and actionable information.”
“Okay. You’re right. We keep to the plan.”
“And in the meantime, let’s go downstairs and enjoy the party. It’s your night, Genevieve. The theater is beautiful. You and Gage have done a fabulous job. So go downstairs and accept the adulation you so richly deserve. Maybe flirt a little with that handsome rancher.”
“Oh, Helen.”
“Oh, Helen, what? You’re not dead yet, Gen. Of course, the man just had a heart attack. Maybe you should hold off on that for a while and let him recover. Until your birthday, at least.”
“Don’t mention the b-word,” Genevieve said and led the way downstairs. “And Gage didn’t have a heart attack. It was angina.”
Her eyes twinkling, Helen gave a shrug. “So you have no excuse. Go flirt.”
Genevieve gave her sister a look that equated to flipping the bird without having to use the vulgar gesture. Helen laughed, slipped her arm through Genevieve’s, and the Bennett sisters descended the stairs.
The theater restoration had turned out even better thanGenevieve had hoped when she and Gage began the project. While the bones of the old theater had stood firm, time had taken its toll on the interior. Gage had worked with his construction specialist son on the structural renovations. Genevieve had been starting basically from scratch on the interior. She’d spent hours upon hours researching theaters built during the same period as the one in Lake in the Clouds. With a vision in mind, she’d worked with her own professional—Jake’s new wife, Tess—to develop a design she loved.
It turned out splendidly. The murals painted in the theater were re-creations of historic travel postcards advertising some of Colorado’s natural wonders—the Royal Gorge, Pikes Peak, and Garden of the Gods. She’d used forest green velvet for the curtains and the upholstery on the seats, and lots of gold braid and tassels.
The one place the color scheme differed was the founder’s box, which sported a portrait of the theater’s namesake and was done in the late Emily Throckmorton’s favorite color of rose accented with gold.
Tonight, all three of Gage’s children were attending the gala. Gage’s recent health scare had been a wake-up call, not just for him but for his children, too. Life was short. It was a crime to waste a day of it.
