Reading books romantic stories you will plunge into the world of feelings and love. Most of the time the story ends happily. Very interesting and informative to read books historical romance novels to feel the atmosphere of that time.Unforgettable by Linda Barrett (story reading .TXT) 📖
- Author: Linda Barrett
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Book online «Unforgettable by Linda Barrett (story reading .TXT) 📖». Author Linda Barrett
“Not as much as I love you, Jen,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Don’t you know that?”
She did. She really did. She’d felt his love for her every day, but hadn’t trusted it. Hadn’t trusted them.
“But your career….”
“We’ll figure it out. Okay?”
Her tears rolled faster as she held him tight. “I’ve missed you so much, my love. We have to figure it out because I can’t lose you again.” She leaned back and cupped his face with her hands. “I love you, Douglas Collins. I-I wasn’t ready back then, but now…I think you’re right. How hard can it be? After all, New York’s almost next door to home.”
##
She liked Steve Kantor immediately. She felt comfortable with him, as if they’d known each other for a long time. He sat on one side of her with Doug on the other, at the round table in a nearby Italian restaurant. Maybe it was the man’s easy manner, maybe it was because he had Doug’s best interests in mind. Or maybe it was because he’d let her know that Italian cooking was his favorite, just as it was hers. Whatever the reasons, she was glad he was Doug’s friend.
“Doug told me you’ve never met a number you didn’t like,” said Steve.
She smiled and sipped her wine. “Not quite. I don’t like those red ones on a bottom line.”
He shot a look at Doug. “Oh, she’s good. Very good.”
“One reason why I keep her around,” Doug replied, his eyes gleaming at her.
“Enough,” she said. “I think we’re getting company.”
Doug stood as the two producers joined them. Steve rose, too. Greetings were exchanged while Doug made introductions to the Silverman brothers—Alan and Jeff. The had quick smiles and outstretched hands.
“I’m looking forward to seeing your play again,” said Alan, the taller one.
“I know your work,” added Jeff. “I judged a lot of contests for Playwrights’ House—still do—and you always scored in the top 2.”
The man turned to Jen. “Are you familiar with the one-act he has running off-Broadway?”
“I know about it,” Jen replied slowly.
“Well, that started as a student project.”
Pride bubbled inside her, and she leaned forward. “And then he improved it until it got noticed. Doug’s the best,” she gushed, unable to stop herself. “His words come from his heart and his head. And the audience gets it. They walk away standing a little taller, feeling more fulfilled. They see the world in a new way.”
“Are you a lawyer?” asked Alan, seeming genuinely curious, and breaking the silence that followed Jen’s impulsive speech.
Heat rose to her face as she shook her head. “That would be my sister. She’s the smart one.”
Doug hooted. “Don’t let her fool you. The five of them—the Delaneys—were born whip-smart.” He tucked her hand in his. “But I got the best of the bunch.”
“Oh-ho! So that’s the way it is,” replied the producer.
“That is the way it is,” said Doug, quietly and with emphasis. “Come up to Boston in September, and you’ll see her again. Dinner in the North End. The best Italian food in the world.”
After placing orders with their server, the conversation became all business. The plot, the actors, the creative team of The Sanctuary. Doug would be hands-on through the run.
“If it runs the whole eight weeks.”
Jen’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth. She placed it back on her plate and avoiding Doug’s eyes, focused on the once-amiable Alan Silverman, who’d asked about her law skills.
“It will,” she said with confidence. “I’m extremely familiar with the Commonwealth Theater. I know the audiences. I know the people of Boston. Patrons come from all over the area. One month’s run would be minimal. Two months will happen. Besides,” she added, “my understanding is that the theater’s literary management had no trouble funding the show. It’s that good!” She leaned back in her chair. “But, as always, everyone’s taste is different, and you’ll have to judge for yourselves.” She looked from one to the other. “I promise you a warm welcome to my adopted hometown.”
“If she’s not a lawyer, she shudda been…”
The producer glanced at Doug. “You’re one lucky s.o.b. She’s riding shotgun for you. And sticking close.”
“I noticed,” Doug said wryly. But although he smiled, he didn’t look happy.
Several hours later, all concerns disappeared as the audience viewing The Broken Circle got to its feet, acknowledging the cast with long, sustained applause. Tears ran down Jen’s face, a mix of grief and hope as she relished the satisfying ending. And she wondered how the new lead could possibly be better than the woman in the cast now. Fortunately, it wasn’t her problem.
But maybe it was. If she and Doug were a real unit, they had to have each other’s backs. At least, that’s what she’d noticed about Mike and Lisa. It made sense.
Jen, Doug and the other three men walked slowly to the theater lobby. “I loved the college production,” said Jen, turning toward Doug, “I cried then too— but this! It’s so much better than my memories.”
“Because the script was brought to life by professionals,” said Steve. “Good actors can make anything sound great, but they can’t turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse.” He turned to Doug and clapped him on the shoulder. “You are one talented son of a gun, with an understanding of the human condition that seems beyond your years.”
“Thanks. Thank you all,” said Doug, including the other two men, “I may look young on the outside, but inside…? My mom says I have an old soul.”
Is that why he’d been able to see through her defenses years ago? Is that what gave him the confidence to come back without any promise from her?
“We’re impressed,” said Jeff Silverman. “I won’t say otherwise. Tell your mom she raised a gifted son.”
Alan shook Doug’s hand. “We’ll come to Boston to see the new play, but we’ll be calling you tomorrow about this one. We have another idea. The drama, Doubt, played on Broadway for a year and a half. Your play is still going strong after two years. Now’s the time to take it on tour.”
She saw Doug’s eyes widen, his brows lift. He’d been concentrating so hard on The Sanctuary, this possibility for The Broken Circle had taken him by surprise.
She had lots of questions, and her fingers itched for a calculator. Her work was cut out for her.
Doug hoisted their overnight bags and put them into the trunk, then settled himself behind the wheel of his car. He glanced at Jen. “Seat belt on?”
“Yes,” she replied with a yawn. “Can’t believe I’m sleepy on a Sunday afternoon.”
He could believe it. She’d been on the go non-stop since they’d arrived on Thursday and had been up late the evening before with her mind working overtime. “I’m told that being a tourist can be an exhausting occupation.”
She grinned. “I loved that part.”
He felt her hand on his arm and turned toward her. “Forgot something upstairs?”
“Nope, but I have a question. Why were you annoyed with me last night?”
So, she’d noticed. “For one thing, you sounded like my mother, bragging about her boy.”
“So what? The only thing your mother and I have in common is that we both love you… Oh, I see. Embarrassing. I’ll give you that. However---I know from experience that it’s hard to brag about yourself without sounding like a total egotist. Therefore, you were lucky to have me around.”
Quick answer, quick mind. And turning defense into offense. He waited to start the ignition. “Alan Silverman was right. You should have been a lawyer. And what was that bit about the Commonwealth’s literary management?” he asked. “You know nothing about that. And it sounded like the start of a negotiation. Keep out of it. I can negotiate for myself.”
And that would be a mistake for him. “No, you can’t. Even Mike doesn’t. And Lisa says anyone negotiating on their own has a fool for a client.” Jen twisted in her seat. “Don’t drive off yet. Just listen to me.”
“I’m listening.”
“You know how I am about not liking nasty surprises. I did my research at home on-line. A play doesn’t get produced regionally without backing from the theater’s literary management.”
“Research? If you wanted to know something, why didn’t you just ask me? Don’t you trust me with the answers? With the truth?” He heard the dismay in his own voice. Back to trust. The one subject that could pierce his heart. “There are always uphill battles. Success doesn’t come without financial risk.” Funny, she’d never asked about his personal finances, and he’d kept discussions about his earnings pretty general.
“Doug, I’m sorry…”
He started the car and began to drive, but before Jen finished, his phone rang. “That’s probably the Silverman Brothers,” he said.
“Put the phone on speaker,” Jen requested.
“No way.” Jen was smart, but this business conversation was his business. Not hers.
“It’s just that two sets of ears are better than one,” she said. “Like in a doctor’s office.”
“What I know is that you’re a terrier. I’ll do it because I’m behind the wheel,” said Doug, heading toward the street, “but try to stay quiet. Don’t insert any more ‘research’ into the conversation.”
“Sorry if I stepped on your toes. But as the man said last night, I’m riding shotgun for you. Business is business.”
Doug glared at her and connected the call. Then saw her reach into her purse and pull out a pad and pen. Geez, she was taking notes. It was so like Jen, he started to laugh. What did he expect?
He didn’t expect a tour of six cities, possible dates, lots of money put up by investors. The producers would hire a director and cast out of New York.
“I like what I hear so far,” said Doug. “Can we continue this discussion tomorrow when I’m behind the desk and not behind the wheel?”
“You’ve got it,” came the voice from the speaker. “And we’ll work up some figures for you to consider.”
“There’s always that!” quipped Doug. “Writers need to make a living.”
The call went silent, and in the car, Doug felt only his own racing heartbeat as the magnitude of the conversation hit him. He made a conscious effort to focus on traffic and allow his breathing to return to his normal rhythm. More possibilities than he could imagine had just been thrown at him.
“It’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?” asked Jen quietly. “Want to pull over for a few minutes and just take it all in?” He looked around and wondered where on earth he could do that. They were still trying to make their way out of Manhattan. She must have noticed, too.
“Oh, never mind, Doug. Just drive. You’ll absorb the shock—or should I say, the shockingly good news.”
“Don’t count chickens. Two months ago, I had no idea something like this would happen,” he said, continuing to make his way toward the West Side Highway. “But I think—I think true opportunity is presenting itself, and I’d be foolish not to follow through.”
“I totally agree,” Jen commented. “Go for it.”
But she didn’t understand the true nature of the business. If she judged from only this fortunate episode, it would give a false impression. “Listen up, Jen. I’m going to be straight with you. I work in a fickle business. You have to make hay while the sun shines and all those other trite sayings.” But nothing was trite about the business. Deals
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