The Girl From Summer Hill (Summer Hill 1)

“So where is Devlin now?” Nina asked.

“Recharging,” Jack shot back. “Gearing up for the play. Doing what he did on his TV show and tapping into his deepest emotions.”

“And, folks, that’s—”

Nina cut the DJ off. “I’m the one who knows him, and I say that he won’t show up for tomorrow’s performance. He is much too cowardly to face my brother in a live performance.”

“Ten grand!” Jack said. “I’ll donate ten thousand dollars to charity if he shows up. Anybody out there want to take bets on this?”

“Okay!” the DJ said. “That’s all we have time for now, but it looks like the, uh—what do we call this?—the Great Acting Challenge is on. If you’re out there, Devlin Haines, and you hear this, we hope you show up tomorrow night so Jack Worth will have to donate ten grand to charity.”

“Make it fifty,” Jack snapped.

“Whoa,” the DJ said. “You heard it here first. The great Jack Worth is donating fifty thousand dollars to charity if Devlin Haines, star of the former hit TV show Death Point, shows up to perform in the play tomorrow night. And now I’m going to play a little music that Jane Austen herself might have heard.”

—

The DJ turned off his mic and looked from Nina to Jack. “You two aren’t going to fight, are you? I mean, I wasn’t expecting to start a feud. I just—”

“It’s fine,” Nina said as she stood up. She was smiling. “You were great. Jack?”

“Yeah, terrific.” He was grinning. He got up, went to Nina, and put his arm around her shoulders. “You deserve an award for that.”

“I did okay?”

“Haines couldn’t have done better.”

Nina laughed. They waved at the DJ, then left the building.

In the car, she put her hands over her face. “I didn’t like saying those things. And I got genuinely angry when you were so against Tate. I’m afraid his feelings will be hurt.”

“After what the critics said about his last movie, he can stand anything. So where to now?”

“We have to escalate this thing,” Nina said. “I’m meeting Gizzy at the printer’s to get the posters, and you’re to go with Josh to a lumberyard. He needs to start building the bleachers. Tate’s got a crew flying in to put up the screens.”

Jack took Nina’s hand and squeezed it. He hated to see her so nervous, so frightened. “You did really well on the radio, and this is going to work.”

“I hope so. Pray so. It all depends on whether Devlin hears about it or not.” She looked at Jack. “Do you think that poor child will be all right?”

“Yes,” Jack said. “I do. Haines isn’t given to physical violence. Come on, let’s go.” He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Neither of them mentioned what was on their minds—the sexual aspect of it all.

Tate stepped into the tiny dressing room and closed the door behind him. Casey was sitting before the makeup table and staring at the lighted mirror. She glanced up at him. “Anything?”

“Not so far,” he said. When Casey looked like she might start crying, he picked up a chair, set it by her, then turned her around to face him. He took the brush out of her hand and began applying the pink rouge to her cheeks. “It takes practice to put on makeup so the audience can see you but you don’t look like a clown. There. Now you’re perfect.”

“What if Devlin doesn’t show up? What if something has happened to Lori? What if—”

Tate put his lips to hers to cut her off. “Haines will be here. He loves drama. He’ll think if he appears at the last minute to save the play from my ineptitude, he’s the hero.”

Casey put her forehead against his shoulder. They were both in costume, ready to go onstage in a few minutes. Even though the room they were in was under the stage, they could hear the people outside. The stage manager had told Casey that the theater

was packed, every seat filled, and the aisles were lined with people. “And outside!” she said. “You wouldn’t believe the number of people who are sitting on the grass and waiting for the screens to light up. Hundreds of them! The front lawns of all the houses for five miles have been turned into parking lots. But nobody in Summer Hill cares, because everyone is here.”

In normal circumstances, Casey would have been a nervous wreck about appearing in a play. When it came to food, she was confident in her abilities. But not in acting. Nina had told her that three well-known critics had flown in, one from New York and two from L.A. “Those people have never been kind to Tate,” Nina said, “so I doubt if they’ll be any different over this.”

But Casey’s concern about her performance in a local play had been eclipsed by her worry about Devlin and young Lori. She’d spent the last two days running around with Nina and Gizzy, doing all they could to promote the Great Acting Challenge. Tate had flown his publicist in, and she’d managed to get some national media attention. Casey had been so busy that she’d barely made it to the theater by six-thirty to start getting ready to go onstage.

She looked back at Tate. “How is everyone?”