Once More With Feeling Read Online Free Page B

dressmakers?”
    â€œWho else knows more about
your
secrets, darling?” he corrected absently as he made notes on each one of the costumes. “Women tend to get chatty when they’re half-dressed.”
    â€œOh, what lovely gossip do you know?” Fastening her belt, Raven walked to him, then leaned companionably on his shoulder. “Tell me something wonderfully indiscreet and shocking, Wayne.”
    â€œBabs Curtin has a new lover,” he murmured, still intent on his notes.
    â€œI said shocking,” Raven complained. “Not predictable.”
    â€œI’ve sworn an oath of secrecy, written in dressmaker’s chalk.”
    â€œI’m very disappointed in you.” Raven left his side to fetch her coat and hat. “I was certain you had feet of clay.”
    â€œLauren Chase just signed to do the lead in
Fantasy.
”
    Raven stopped on her way to the door and whirled. “What?” She dashed back across the room and yanked the notebook from Wayne’s hand.
    â€œSomehow I thought that would get your attention,” Wayne observed dryly.
    â€œWhen? Oh, Wayne,” she went on before he could answer. “I’d give several years of my young life for a chance to write that score. Lauren Chase . . . oh, yes, she’s so right for it. Who’s doing the score, Wayne?” Raven gripped his shoulders and closed her eyes. “Go ahead, tell me, I can take it.”
    â€œShe doesn’t know. You’re cutting off the circulation, Raven,” he added, disengaging her hands.
    â€œDoesn’t know!” she groaned, crushing the hat down on her head in a way that made Wayne swear and adjust it himself. “That’s worse, a thousand times worse! Some faceless, nameless songwriter who couldn’t possibly know what’s right for that fabulous screenplay is even now sitting at a piano making unforgivable mistakes.”
    â€œThere’s always the remote possibility that whoever’s writing it has talent,” he suggested and earned a lethal glare.
    â€œWhose side are you on?” she demanded and flung the coat around her shoulders.
    He grinned, grabbed her cheeks and gave her a resounding kiss. “Go home and stomp your feet, darling. You’ll feel better.”
    She struggled not to smile. “I’m going next door and buying a Florence DeMille,” she threatened him with the name of a leading competitor.
    â€œI’ll forgive you that statement,” Wayne said with a hefty sigh. “Because along with my feet of clay I’ve a heart of gold.”
    She laughed and left him with her rack of costumes and his notebook.
    ***
    The house was quiet when Raven returned. The faint scent of lemon oil and pine told her that the house had just been cleaned. As a matter of habit, she peeked into her music room and was satisfied that nothing there had been disturbed. She liked her disorganization just as it was. With the idle thought of making coffee, Raven wandered toward the kitchen.
    She had bought the house for its size and rambling openness. It was the antithesis of the small, claustrophobic rooms she had grown up in. And it smelled clean, she decided. Not antiseptic; she would have hated that, but there was no lingering scent of stale cigarettes, no sickly sweet odor of yesterday’s bottle. It was her house, as her life was hers. She’d bought them both with her voice.
    Raven twirled once around the room, pleased with herself for no specific reason. I’m happy, she thought, just happy to be alive.
    Grabbing a rose from a china vase, she began to sing as she walked down the hall. It was the sight of Julie’s long, narrow bare feet propped up on the desk in the library that stopped her.
    Raven hesitated, seeing Julie was on the phone, but was quickly gestured inside.
    â€œI’m sorry, Mr. Cummings, but Ms. Williams has a strict policy against endorsements. Yes, I’m sure it’s a