Take a Bow (A Rivervue Community Theatre Romance, #3) Read online

  Take A Bow

  Fiona Greene

  He’s the Banksy of the international theatre scene – daring, anonymous, renowned. So when playwright ‘Draven’ bequeaths his latest play to the rural Rivervue Theatre, the stage is set for drama.

  Creative director Lexi Spencer stands centre stage in the fight to save the iconic Rivervue Community Theatre from redevelopment by the local council. With Draven’s new play, Lexi’s got the weapon she needs to keep Rivervue open. She just needs to ensure it remains a secret. Staging the controversial Larrikin is guaranteed to cause trouble, but it’s a risk she’s willing to take. She’s already lost so much in her life, losing the theatre isn’t an option.

  Council CEO Mark Conroy is new to artsy Brachen, but not to dealing with passionate constituents who disagree with his decisions. And he’s definitely not new to Lexi Spencer. Over a decade has passed since he ruined his relationship with Lexi, but old feelings aren’t as easily written off as a building. When they’re forced to become allies, the town’s secrets aren’t the only ones at stake.

  Can they pull off the impossible and save Rivervue, or will their past bring down the curtain on a shared future?

  About the author

  FIONA GREENE loves romance — reading it, and now writing it. Her works range from contemporary stories with strong heroines and even stronger heroes, to journeys across time and space, exploring the infinite possibilities of romance across the universe.

  Fiona lives in Brisbane, Australia with her husband and two incredible spoilt dogs. You can find her online at: fionagreene.weebly.com

  Acknowledgements

  A huge thank you to Nikki and Dan for introducing me to the friendship and shared purpose found in a community theatre like Rivervue. If ever I was lucky enough to be a part of a theatre group, I hope it would be yours. Thanks also to Escape Publishing, for letting us bring this production to life. To the staff and volunteers from Camp Quality Primary School Education Program, and Angel Gowns Australia, you are awesome. Keep up the fabulous work.

  Take a Bow (A Rivervue Community Theatre romance)

  Fiona Greene

  romance.com.au

  For M and J — forbidden lovers and keepers of secrets

  Contents

  About the author

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

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  Prologue

  Six months earlier

  Lexi Spencer sat back in the fading light, rubbed her neck and stared at the papers on her desk, no closer to a decision than she had been an hour before.

  To her left, the double-sided page with its government-yellow envelope, bearing the distinctive crest of the Brachen Shire Council.

  To her right, an inch-and-a-half-high brick of paper, also delivered that morning. But there was no sender neatly stamped on the outside of this package. Heck, it wasn’t even a package. Just the best part of a ream of paper typed single sided in standard manuscript format, wrapped in waxy brown paper and bound in rubber bands. Lexi pulled her laptop closer and scanned through the article that summarised everything the theatre world knew about these packages.

  They always come bound by rubber bands. Old school. Original. One copy only.

  So many rubber bands.

  She sank down into her chair and swept them into the trash.

  Her gaze flicked between the two stacks of paper and she took a long, long breath. It didn’t help. Having finished her first high-level read of the manuscript to her right, she had no doubt what she’d been sent.

  Even if she still couldn’t say it out loud.

  She kept reading the article.

  Equal parts metamorphic and devastating for the Company on the receiving end.

  Lexi snorted. Well, that described both of the documents on her desk right now. The question was, which one did she fight for, and which one did she just accept?

  The resin paperweight that had shared her desk, and her journey here at Rivervue, caught her eye. A bespoke piece, it comprised two streams of molten resin, intertwined by some dextrous wristwork, then frozen forever in the yin-yang design. She turned it over to the inscription, recited it by heart: Ageless beauty, running wild.

  Again and again, as she tossed up her options, she kept going back to the manuscript.

  Rivervue had been gifted the best thing a theatre company could ever receive. The theatrical equivalent of winning Australia’s premier horserace, the Melbourne Cup. Being creative director at Rivervue Theatre Company had challenged her in so many ways over the last few years but this …

  This was going to take everything she had. And then some.

  A Draven.

  She mouthed the words, not willing to even whisper them to her empty office, in case the spell, the magic, was broken.

  Lexi glanced over at the single sheet, its distinctive crest seemingly eyeballing her and her talented, hard-working team with contempt.

  And in that second, she knew.

  Council be damned. Rivervue would be staging a Draven.

  ***

  Lexi used the intercom to call down to the props room. Mackenzie Russell answered midway through the first ring. ‘Hey Kenzie, it’s Lexi. Do you have a moment? Is there any chance you could pop up?’

  ‘Sure thing.’ Kenzie didn’t hesitate. ‘I’m already moving.’

  ‘See you soon.’ Lexi’s gut churned as she set down the receiver. Now the decision was made, she was calling in the only other person there who had any inkling what was going on. The person who’d found Draven’s parcel on Rivervue’s back dock steps just that morning. Someone had to confirm she wasn’t going batshit crazy.

  There was a gentle knock at the door and Kenzie popped her head around, anticipation dripping off the little blonde.

  ‘Come in. You’d better shut the door.’

  Kenzie closed it, then crossed the office on silent feet. At the last second, she abandoned her plans to perch on the desk and returned to the door. The snick of the lock echoed loud in the office.

  Their eyes met as she dropped into her chair. Practically leaning over the bundle she’d accepted delivery of that morning, Kenzie breathed. ‘So … is it?’

  ‘A Draven?’ Lexi nodded. ‘Without a doubt.’

  Kenzie let out a strangled squeal before clapping her hand over her mouth. ‘O…M…G’. She jumped to her feet, as though to run through the theatre, cheering, then froze halfway to the door. ‘A Draven.’ Her whisper gave it exactly the mix of reverence and rock star it deserved.

  Lexi blew out a relieved breath. Not batshit crazy after all.

  Watching Kenzie’s reaction was refreshing and the nervous exhaustion that had dogged her across the afternoon started to lift. She, too, wanted to jump up and down and scream like a tween at a boy-band concert. Instead, she grinned conspiratorially at Kenzie.

  ‘We’ve got an actual Draven.’ Finally, the courage to say
it out loud.

  ‘Is it fabulous?’

  ‘That’s one word for it.’ She considered her words. ‘It’s a retelling of the Ron de Vue story. Titled Larrikin.’

  Some of the excitement sagged out of Kenzie’s shoulders. ‘Of course it is …’

  ‘It’s controversial.’

  ‘Oohhh.’ Kenzie stiffened. ‘Warts and all?’

  ‘There’s definitely warts. We’ll have to do some fact checking. None of this,’ she gestured around the room to the building that housed the River-vue Theatre Company, ‘would be here without Ron de Vue. I’ll need to be sure before I go ahead.’

  Kenzie nodded, and both women were silent for a second as they pondered what that might mean.

  ‘Lexi?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You’re not suggesting we alter it?’ The horror in Kenzie’s voice was all too real. ‘It would be …’

  Lexi palmed the paperweight and closed her fist around it. ‘No, I’m not going to edit it. I think it needs the right amount of caution.’ Lexi paused and took a deep breath. ‘I also need to tell you something else in the strictest of confidence.’

  Kenzie’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, Draven must have really outdone himself.’

  Lexi smiled. ‘Actually, it’s not Draven related. Strictest confidence now.’

  Kenzie flung up her hand and declared, ‘Scout’s honour.’

  Lexi’s lips twitched. ‘That’s not Scout’s honour, that’s some gesture of greeting out of a sci-fi show.’

  Kenzie kept her hand as it was. ‘Something or other salute?’ Kenzie bounced out of her chair. ‘Now known in Brachen, by the two of us, as the Rivervue salute.’

  Lexi nodded, before using her left hand to arrange the fingers on her right hand to mimic what Kenzie was doing. ‘Rivervue salute.’

  ‘I am so going to have to teach you how to do that.’ Kenzie declared, demonstrating fingers together, fingers apart.

  Lexi tried to get her uncoordinated digits to replicate what she was seeing. She shook her head. ‘Nah, I’ll do it the other way.’ She organised her salute, held her hand up and stated solemnly, ‘I, Lexi Spencer, invoke the Rivervue Salute for one hundred per cent secrecy, from Kenzie Russell, on two matters in relation to our discussion today.’

  ‘Rivervue Salute.’ Kenzie intoned with her hand in the air, before dissolving into a giggle.

  Lexi lowered her hand and rested it on the single sheet, with its crispy yellow envelope. ‘There’s an issue with the Council. Nothing major,’ she lied, trying to reassure Kenzie. ‘Around the lease.’

  Kenzie’s face mirrored the horror Lexi had experienced when she’d opened the letter earlier that morning. Good thing she hadn’t mentioned the Council’s alternate plan, clearly already on its journey from someone’s brilliant idea to the scoping team.

  Lexi pulled a clean folder from her credenza and slotted the offending letter, envelope and all, into it. ‘I’ll need to do some work on that as well. Until I do, I don’t want you to say anything. Not about the letter and certainly not about the Draven. Like I said, it’s controversial. The last thing we need is to alert the Arts Trust and the Council that we’re in pre-production for a show that might cast de Vue or the town in a less than stellar light. And anyone that knows Draven by reputation, should realise that’s a possibility.’

  Kenzie nodded. ‘De Vue granted the lease for the theatre, didn’t he? Is there anything useful relating to that,’ she gestured to the folder, ‘in the play?’

  Lexi shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think so. Although I need to read through again to confirm.’

  ‘And the second thing?’

  Lexi felt heat rising from the neckline of her vintage lime Hollywood frock. ‘The timing. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this arrived when it did. I think we’re supposed to use it for the bicentennial. Which means starting pre-production now.’

  ‘Now?’ Kenzie’s brow furrowed. ‘That is one tight deadline. Maybe I do need to organise those shares in Milk’n’Honey we keep talking about.’

  ‘It wouldn’t hurt.’ Lexi paused. ‘I don’t want to freak anyone out, so I wasn’t going to announce the play, more float a production I want to work on for the bicentennial celebrations. I’ll use the external timeline of the celebration as the excuse for why we’re in pre-production when the full script isn’t available.’

  Kenzie thought for a moment. ‘So, don’t tell anyone we’ve got a Draven?’

  The heat emanating from Lexi’s collar worsened. ‘Ah, no. Not until closer to opening night.’

  ‘How much closer?’

  Trust Kenzie to want to nut it down to the exact minute. That’s what made her so valuable to have in the Rivervue team. ‘Completely under wraps until we begin full rehearsals at least.’

  Kenzie pursed her lips and whistled softly. ‘That’s going to need a LOT of trust, from all of our team. And some mighty fine footwork with the Arts Trust. Do you think it’ll fly?’

  ‘It might.’ Lexi paused. ‘If I sell it right.’

  ‘That is one hard sell.’ Kenzie braced her hands on the desk. ‘Full rehearsal?’

  Lexi nodded and took another deep breath. ‘The only way I can see it working is if I tell everyone at Rivervue and the Arts Trust that I’m writing a special tribute for Ron de Vue for the bicentennial, and I stake every single skerrick of reputation I have on promising delivery of a great production, one act at a time.’

  Kenzie’s mouth opened. Then closed. Opened again.

  A few seconds later she grinned. ‘Ballsy, my creative director. Very ballsy.’ She sat back in her chair. ‘It’s not going to be easy. And you might become the most unpopular woman in town when everyone finds out. Nevertheless,’ Kenzie’s eyes held a twinkle of mischief, ‘I think you should go for it.’

  Lexi smiled, then nodded at her assistant stage manager and props executive. ‘You get that this is going to change Rivervue, and potentially Brachen, forever.’

  Kenzie sobered, and the briefest flicker of emotion clouded her face before she met Lexi’s gaze. ‘We’re due for a change anyway.’

  Lexi straightened her shoulders. ‘Ron de Vue transformed Brachen once before. Let’s give him the chance to do it again.’

  Chapter One

  ‘There’s been a change of plan. I’m coming over.’

  Lexi Spencer straightened the single folder on her desk and tried not to let those words, hurriedly uttered by the director of the Arts Trust, unsettle her.

  He hung up and she wiped her sweaty palms down her skirt. No matter how many times she replayed their conversation in her head, she couldn’t shake the dread curling in her stomach. Thomas Clayborne was a great boss. A staunch supporter of Rivervue Theatre, he usually left the day-to-day running of the theatre to her. They emailed often, but she only spoke to him in person once a year, when they met to do an annual report.

  His call had set off warning bells.

  The lack of details had escalated them to full-on sirens.

  Coming straight over. That had to be bad, right?

  It wasn’t what he had said.

  It was more what her financial controller and bureaucracy wrangler hadn’t said that was churning her gut.

  Someone had found out.

  Lexi closed her eyes, trying to force that nasty little thought right back down where it belonged. Not in the basement, alongside all the props and costumes that formed a physical history of Rivervue as a production company. Deeper than that. Mentally, she pictured it deep in the rock that anchored Rivervue and the town of Brachen on the river.

  But it was pointless. The nasty little thought kept pushing its way back up.

  Larrikin, the once-in-a-lifetime play whose pre-production had consumed her these last few months, was in trouble.

  The knock, when it came, commanded attention.

  Lexi stood, took a deep breath, aiming for a level tone. ‘Come in.’

  Thomas Clayborne and Brachen’s mayor, Scott Forsdyke, marched in. A
third man, on his phone, stood outside with his back to the door.

  Travelling with personal security now, Forsdick? Probably had something to do with the slew of unpopular decisions he’d made since taking over from Wayne Kilpatrick, the previous mayor.

  Lexi grasped the edge of the desk. When was the last time she’d seen this level of corporate-wear congregated in one place within the town of Brachen?

  Never.

  They’d sent every suit and every briefcase in Brachen—her alarm upped to catastrophic.

  Larrikin was in trouble.

  The office had never felt smaller as the men stood shoulder to shoulder on the other side of her desk.

  Thomas Clayborne led the charge. ‘Hello Lexi, thanks for seeing us at such short notice.’

  ‘No worries.’ Lexi gathered her thoughts, ‘Nice to see you, Thomas.’ She forced a smile so false her cheeks were in danger of cracking. ‘How can I help?’

  Forsdyke pushed forward. His suit was shinier, his shoes pointier and his smile, if you could call it that, faker. Wherever he went, he drew every eye, and not in a good way. Someone in the medical profession had funded their retirement on redefining Scott’s face, improving symmetry, reducing wrinkles and filling cracks, but the end result wouldn’t be out of place in a puppet show.

  One hundred per cent plastic.

  ‘This play, this Larrikin, the bicentennial committee isn’t happy.’

  ‘Mayor Forsdyke.’ Pompous little arse. ‘What specifically aren’t they happy about?’

  ‘Council’s laid out a lot of money on the Bicentennial Festival and this play, Thomas tells me, isn’t even finished. I won’t have Brachen made a fool of.’

  Oh mayor, Brachen isn’t the one who looks a fool.

  Lexi focused on defending her play. ‘The Larrikin production is on budget and on schedule. It’s not unusual to take a script to production in this way,’ Lexi stated crisply. ‘What specifically is the issue?’