“What are we watching?” I ask him quietly. “Why does that guy have a theatre in his garden?”
“Actually, it’s in my garden.” A male voice chuckles to our left and Sargent, with a huge grin on his face, stands and greets the man. He’s not as tall as Sargent or as handsome in my opinion but I bet he could certainly turn heads.
They hug like old friends and smile at each other.
“I didn’t think you’d come.” Sargent pulls me into his side. “This is Tempest.”
“Tempest.” The man’s tone is one of surprise, like mine moments ago, and his eyebrows hit his hairline. “It’s a pleasure. I’m Cassius, this douche’s oldest friend and his son’s godfather.”
“Oh my God, I’ve heard so much about you,” I tell him, feeling awed as I shake his hand. “I was in your program last year in Surin!”
“I thought your name sounded familiar. Not every day you hear the name Tempest.”
“I’m sorry we never got to meet. The weekend you were visiting I was really ill with pneumonia and other ailments.”
His smile is sympathetic. “Yes, I recall a few of the crew came down with something.”
“It was horrendous but we powered through it. We helped so many people on your money…”
“Lost a few too,” he mutters, looking sad.
I place my hand on his arm. “It wasn’t in vain. They were remembered and celebrated always.”
Sargent clears his throat.
“Sorry, I’m talking your ear off. I’m just… it’s great to meet you, Cassius.”
“Not at all.” The friends share a look and I wonder if Cassius approves of me. It’s extremely important to me that he does, not simply because of who he is to Sargent and Maddox, but because of all he has done for the world. “Will you be joining our movement next year? We’re tackling Africa next. I’m trying to convince Sargent to donate to the cause.”
Sargent clears his throat and shifts against me when I reply, “I would love to! Have the details been sent over to Benny and his people? They usually keep me updated.”
“Benny isn’t on this particular tour. If Sargent has your details I will personally email you, how’s that? We need as many people as we can get.”
I try not to buzz with excitement but it’s impossible. “Thank you.”
“Isn’t the part of Africa you are visiting extremely dangerous?” Sargent puts in, sounding annoyed and worried.
“That’s kind of the point of going,” I respond, my smile not wavering. “To make life better over there for those who have to live there permanently. Nobody should have to live in fear.”
Cassius holds out his fist and we bump knuckles like bros.
“Enjoy the show, I’ll catch up with you both afterwards.” Cassius winks at me, slaps Sargent’s arm and moves on to greet other people. I watch him go and then smile at Sargent who has a brow raised at me.
“Should I get you both a room?” he asks but I see his lips twitch.
“Shut up.” I kiss his jaw and look at Cassius once more over my shoulder. I’m still a little bit starstruck. I can’t help it.
“You’ve impressed him.”
“I’m an impressive kind of gal, what can I say?”
He pinches my thigh making me squeal, and we sink into the love seat which is just big enough for both of us.
“So, what are we watching?”
I grab a handful of popcorn and stuff it unattractively into my mouth.
Sargent kisses my sweet lips and pulls my legs over his lap. “You shall see.”
The lights from around dim and the stage suddenly lights up with a powerful spotlight.
It’s the man from the doorway, Maxwell.
He addresses the crowd which has grown in the time we were talking. “Welcome to this impromptu performance, hosted by the gracious and wonderful, Cassius Lepore and organized by the incredible and extremely handsome, Sargent Wolf, and the lovely Marcy.”
Extremely handsome indeed.
I look around for Marcy but don’t see her.
“She can’t stand the play,” Sargent explains. He’s apparently a mind reader.
I look at him sitting to my right as he draws patterns on my thigh with his fingers.
“You organized this?”
“We do hope you enjoy the screening of The Tempest. A Shakespearean classic if I do say so myself. One of our favorite pieces to perform.”
“Oh my God,” I whisper, and my fingers fly to my lips.
The spotlight dims to nothing and Maxwell quietly exits the stage.
“Is this a coincidence?” I ask Sargent. “Were you already hosting? Or is this…”
“For you,” he admits quietly, smiling gently at me.
Is this because of the conversation I had with him and Devon in the garden that day? Devon asked if I’d ever seen the play, I admitted I hadn’t. I didn’t even realize Sargent was listening. He had such a bitter look on his face.
“There was nothing within a six-hour drive or flight so I flew the play to you instead.”