The Marquis and the Magician's Assistant (The Rebel Royals 4)

Omar had set up a preview with some of Europe's biggest movers and shakers. In just a matter of days, they'd fill the seats of the theater. Their reception would impact the future of her show. Though she knew Omar had her backing financially, it was all in with the components of the show as she envisioned them, she needed more than an audience of one. Even if the idea of entertaining Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome one-on-one had its appeal.

“The marquise is all in with this show,” said Blaze. “Especially now that you're seeing him."

Lark’s head did a one-hundred eighty-degree turn, like in a horror movie. "I'm not seeing Mr. al Shariff.”

"No? He's taking you to the royal wedding."

"It's not a date. It's business."

Lark busied herself resetting the setup for the trick herself. The last thing she wanted to do was put her life in the hands of a man again. Perhaps she could do this show on her own without any assistance?

Blaze moved toward her. His hands were up like he was showing her that they were empty, and no trick was in play. "Look, I'm not judging. The world isn't fair. I know what women have to go through to get an advantage in this day and age.”

"You do?" Lark cocked a hand on her hip. Her hands were not empty. If the wrong word came out of his mouth, she’d make a pink slip appear.

Omar was the boss of her. But she was the boss of her assistant. He was replaceable. He should know that.

"That fine dance of flirting some women have to do without giving up the goods. I've seen it all too many times."

For a man who missed the finer points of his job, he sure got the major points of today’s society. At least how things were in the entertainment industry where many predators were loose.

"I haven't given up any goods,” said Lark.

“Then you're not as smart as I thought you were,” said a sultry female voice.

Lark turned to look into the dark of the theater. Summer moved in and out of the overhead lights. Dark then light, like a star falling from the sky on a cloudy night. The dying light was obscured by the pressing fog.

"I was once in your shoes," she continued. "On that same stage as you. In that very same spotlight, in fact.”

"Did you notice they change the billing outside?" said Lark.

"Sassy. He likes sass. He likes shiny. You’re a shiny new toy. But you'll dull soon, and he'll get bored and toss you over.”

Lark's instinct was to say that that wasn't the Omar she knew. He’d never shown her that side. But what did she know?

She'd heard about his reputation for dating the women he produced. She’d also heard his side of the story. She wanted to believe him. But was that because she wanted to dance with him more?

"It's his M. O.,” Summer continued. “He always dates his starlets, especially if he thinks they’ll go far. I think he lives vicariously since he doesn't have any talent of his own."

"I suppose that's why he passed you over."

"Cute."

"Sassy and cute. Clearly, I'm on my way up."

One thing Lark was sure of was that she wouldn't let this has-been wannabe intimidate her.

"You're headed up," said Summer. "Until you’re on your way down. Stars don’t last forever. They’re bright balls of fire. Sooner or later, you'll run out of fuel. Best to have a backup plan. Consider Rancik Entertainment. He doesn't make stars, he makes careers."

Summer placed a business card on the edge of the stage, right over the trap door for the disappearing act. After the woman made her way out of the exit, Lark pulled the lever, and the card fluttered down, landing to the side of the mattress below.

“I’ll go line that up,” said Blaze, peering down at the card.

“No,” said Lark. “It’s exactly where it needs to be.”

Chapter Nine

"Don't forget you have lunch with the executives from Vizier Bank about purchasing the new theater,” said Marlena. “You also have lunch scheduled with the Prime Minister.”