~*~
Renee entered to find Amy sitting content on the couch, softly smiling as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger and read her usual novel. Something about the smile made Renee suspicious. She put the boxes of Chinese food on the bar counter, relieved herself of her shoes, coat, keys, and purse, and dropped down beside Amy with a deep breath.
“So, who did you kill and where’s the body?”
Amy lowered the novel with wide eyes. “Kill? Body? What are you talking about?”
“Yesterday you were moping. This morning you were distracted and still moping. Now? For lack of a better cliché, you look like the cat that ate the canary.”
Amy closed her book and hugged it against her chest. “I have.”
Renee arched an eyebrow. “I am severely creeped out now.”
Amy chuckled and leaned forward to place the book on the coffee table. “Renee, what I’m going to tell you will likely shock you right to death.”
Renee crossed her arms. “Try me.”
“Sir Garret Harrison is coming for dinner tomorrow.”
Renee’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“For one, we’ve set up rehearsal times all of this week. For two, I invited him.”
“Why?”
“Because I would like to get to know him better,” Amy said patiently. “And I think you should too.”
“Why?”
Amy laughed. “Because believe it or not, he’s a nice man. I think you two would get along great, if you gave him half a chance.”
“Humph.”
Amy gave Renee’s arm a gentle shove. “If you promise to be nice to him tomorrow, I’ll ask Mark Frasier to stay for dinner too.”
Renee’s arms went fast to her sides as her eyes widened. “The Mark Frasier? You’re kidding!”
Amy shook her head. “Nope.”
Renee pulled Amy into a tight embrace. “Oh my gosh! Mark Frasier!”
Amy laughed.
.: Eight :.
Awkward Conversations of Bliss
Mark didn’t call like he had said he would, but Amy figured he forgot. Men had a tendency to do that. Well, wolfmen anyway, Amy thought with a snigger. Renee was persuaded to go to work, much as she wanted to call in sick so that she could meet and drool over Mark Frasier when he arrived for rehearsal. Amy told Renee there was no guarantee he would show up, because of the fact he didn’t call, and so it would be best if Renee went to work.
Renee pouted the entire way from the apartment.
So Amy was finally left to enjoy her coffee, her morning devotional, and her reading of Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations, which she had begun to think she would never finish.
The phone on the end table behind her twittered, and Amy smirked as she picked it up. “Good morning, Mark.”
“Hey. How’d you do that?”
“This is about the same time you called me yesterday, only you were supposed to call me last night.”
“Sorry. Nessie and I-- Damn. I mean Vanessa and I went out for a movie.”
“If Gar-- Mr. Harrison catches you two, you’re going to get into a lot of trouble,” Amy teased, knowing full well that Garret couldn’t penalize them. After all, weren’t they doing the same thing?
“Why? Vanessa and I are just friends.”
“So. You were still fraternizing.”
“Nah. We were doing research for the characters in the movie.”
Amy arched an eyebrow, and then she laughed. “Whatever. Are we on or off for rehearsal this morning?”
“On.”
“Good. Can we go through scene 86? ‘Aeris’ Wood’? Some of the line’s just aren’t clicking.”
“Sure thing.”
“Oh, and Mark?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t suppose you’d want to have dinner with me and Renee this evening?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I would!”
Amy laughed. “Don’t say ‘yes’ so fast. Mr. Harrison is invited too.”
“What? Why?”
“Because we’ve been rehearsing that death scene.” Well, we’re supposed to be rehearsing that death scene, Amy thought with a light smile. “I thought it would be nice to have both of you stay for dinner as a way to thank you for helping me out. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Mark hemmed and hawed before saying “If he stays out of my face, then I’ll come over.”
“Alright, but you have to promise not to get in his face either. I understand you two have a bit of a bad history, but that doesn’t mean you can’t try to be civil.”
Mark grumbled. “Alright, sis.”
Amy chuckled. “Thank you. Now get your butt over here so we can rehearse.”
Mark laughed. “Okay, okay. See you in a bit.”
Click
Ring
“Hello?”
“And so the shadows of night are banished with such a whisper.”
Amy’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled into the phone. She nestled into the corner of the couch, Charles Dickens forgotten as she hugged the novel to her chest. “I will whisper more if you but be forever my knight of shadow.”
Garret chuckled. “Good morning, Amy.”
“Good morning, Garret. Getting ready to start your wild day?”
Garret chuckled again. “Yes, and much as I wish I could say I have called only to hear your voice, I’m afraid such isn’t the case.”
Amy’s smile wavered. “You can’t come to rehearsal or dinner tonight, can you?”
“No. Max has requested my presence at the meeting with the stunt company.”
Amy sighed. “That’s alright, Garret. You are the Executive Producer. I’ve got to expect you to bow out of the not-so-important meetings.”
“My time with you is never considered ‘not-so-important’, Amy. The only reason I have agreed to attend the dinner meeting this evening is due to the fact I know it will likely affect your very life.”
Amy closed her eyes to picture his face, his flowing white hair, his magnificent blue eyes... “Thank you for that,” she said softly.
“Ah,” Garret whispered, “my muse sighs and I am content.”
Amy chuckled as she opened her eyes. “Come, come, sweet poet, give your muse rest.”
“What rest does she need whom controls the singing of my very spirit?”
Amy’s eyes twinkled. “Sing, then, that your muse might relive your presence while you are so far distant.”
Garret released a deep breath. “Much as I wish I could, Amy, I’m afraid I must go.”
Amy nodded with a sad smile. “I know. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
There was a moment of silence. “Amy, tell me that you will miss me.”
Amy’s eyes misted. “I’ll miss you, Garret.”
“No, softest and truest muse. Tell me.”
Amy sighed as she closed her eyes. “Sweet poet, my world will be gray until once again your voice is present to color my sky. Return swift, that the delicate petals of my soul might again embrace you to the heart you hold within the palm of your gentleness.” Amy’s voice cracked, and she sniffed. “I fear I die if your return be tardy even one breath. So please, sweet sweet poet, tarry not in the presence of damsels and dragons.”
“Surely I cannot tarry when my soul and heart are held captive within your song and warmth. Be assured, sweet muse. Fare thee well.”
“Nay. Say not so. I beg of thee, sweet poet, bid me ‘until our dreams’, for I shall surely seek you there.”
“If so doing gives comfort... until our dreams, dearest muse.”
Silence click
Amy replaced the receiver with a deep sigh. “Until our dreams,” she whispered.