Wishing in the Wings Read Online Free Page B

that Dean and I lived together. I’d insisted on being up front about our relationship before I accepted the theater’s offer of employment.
    So what was I afraid of now? Fielding questions about the deepest, darkest secrets of my love life?
    After a firm nod to the rest of the board, Kira turned to me and said, “Becca, were you and Dean together last night?”
    Wow. She really was going to ask me about my love life.
    I didn’t think it was possible for my facial capillaries to fill again so quickly. “Excuse me?” I managed to choke out.
    Kira sighed, and I could make out a wash of sympathy behind her eyes. “I know that question must seem really intrusive. I’d take more time to explain, but the situation is really urgent. We need to speak with Dean immediately, and we haven’t been able to reach him for the past twenty-four hours. He isn’t answering his cell or his BlackBerry.”
    I considered lying. I could say that Dean had come home from the gym yesterday evening. That we’d made a stir-fry for dinner. That we’d slipped into bed after watching the news. That I’d made him a bag lunch that morning and kissed him goodbye before he left, playing my role as the perfect 1950s housewife.
    Except the board already knew that Dean wasn’t at work. And any lies I told would just delay the moment when I could get help finding my boyfriend. “He didn’t come home,” I said. “He left the apartment before I did yesterday, but there was a note telling me not to wait up.”
    Before Kira could ask another question, another board member slammed her perfectly manicured hand down on the table. “I told you!”
    Alicia Morton’s hair swept back from her face, twin silver wings gleaming against jet black in her corporate bob. A single strand of pearls slashed across her throat. Her severe black jacket managed to emphasize her feminine curves, even as it was cut to make her look like a no-holds-barred advertising executive.
    Which she was.
    Alicia Morton had recently joined the board as part of Hal’s efforts to forge ongoing partnerships with strong, traditional New York businesses. I couldn’t imagine what had led Alicia to accept Hal’s invitation; she seemed to resent everything about the Mercer.
    Everyone in the theater world had heard about her behavior at the Fall Fete, Hal’s most important fundraiser of the year. Hal had introduced Alicia from the dais, intending to recognize our newest board member and move on. Alicia had a different plan, though. She’d commandeered the microphone and transformed the dinner into a question and answer session, a probing investigation of all Hal’s plans for the coming season. In fact, Hal had only succeeded in silencing Alicia when he reminded everyone that the Mercer was going to skyrocket in prominence with its production of Crystal Dreams.
    Whoops.
    “I told you,” Alicia repeated, biting off her words with military precision. She flexed her talons toward the stranger at the head of the table. “We shouldn’t have a lawyer sitting here. We should have the police!”
    Well, at least that told me who the unknown guy was. A lawyer. That couldn’t be good.
    “Bill Rodriguez,” he said, inclining his head toward me by way of greeting. I nodded warily. “I’m from Fenter, Grimley, and Swanson. We represent the Mercer Project. We handle tax work, finances in general.”
    “Pleased to meet you,” I said, falling back on the social lubrication of etiquette. Alicia snorted, but at least she held her tongue.
    Bill had the courtesy to act as if he hadn’t heard her. “What exactly is your job here at the Mercer, Ms. Morris?”
    “I’m the dramaturg,” I said. I was prepared for the politely blank look he gave me; I encountered it from nearly everyone who wasn’t positioned deep inside the theater world. I clarified: “I work behind the scenes. I’m sort of an ‘in-house critic.’” I shrugged, as if I were searching for words, even though I knew my little