were to perform and showed them the opening steps. Collins was right, they were all very competent dancers, the weakest by far was Lily Stevens. He moved her to the back row, which made her cheeks redden and her eyes flash angrily.
And at the end of rehearsals she stormed up to him. ‘In caseyou are unaware of the situation, my fiancé is a backer of this production, and when I tell him I’m in the back row, he will not be pleased!’
Rob looked coldly at her. ‘Don’t you try blackmail with me, Lily. You are only here because of your fiancé, as I’m sure you know. I will not ruin my production on a whim. I’m sure your fiancé would not be pleased to see a number spoilt by your incompetence. Think about it, Lily. If I put you in a prominent position then your man will see for himself you are not up to standard and that would be embarrassing for him.’ He paused. ‘Then, I don’t think he’ll pursue your ambition with quite so much enthusiasm. After all, he’s a canny businessman, he’s put his money into this company because he wants a return. I can assure you he won’t put you before that, however good you are in bed!’ He turned and walked away.
Lily stood fuming, her cheeks flushed. She rushed off the stage, muttering to herself.
Rob was not at all sure how enamoured the backer was with the girl and hoped the man was a shrewd businessman first before being a man in lust or love. If it was the latter, he was in deep trouble.
The rehearsals were going well and Peter Collins was busy selling his forthcoming show to the people who mattered in the theatre. To this end, he’d arranged a cocktail party at the Savoy Hotel on the coming Sunday evening, which would be good publicity as he’d also organised for the press to attend.
‘Go and buy Bonny an evening dress,’ he told Rob. ‘I want her to look stunning when I introduce the pair of you. You will be in a dinner jacket, of course.’
‘Of course,’ smiled Rob. ‘Who have you invited?’
‘Jack Buchanan and Noel Coward, and CB Cochran said he’d try and look in. Apart from several theatre critics – and the backers, of course. We must give them the opportunity to meet the stars; it’s a bonus that comes when they give me their money.’
Rob frowned. No doubt Lily would be among the guests, with her sugar daddy, and that could be very awkward.
Bonny and Rob had a great time shopping for her dress. Away from the rigidity of his role as dance director, she discovered his charm and sense of humour. He also, she discovered, had an innate sense of style.
As she tried on yet another model, chosen by him, curiosity overcame her. ‘How do you know so much about a woman’s apparel?’
He chuckled wickedly. ‘Most of my adult life has been around women. I picked up a few tips.’
‘Mm, I bet you did!’
‘What are you implying, Bonny?’ He raised his eyebrows as he waited for her reply.
‘Nothing, but I am seeing another side to you and it’s a little disconcerting, if I’m honest.’
He started to laugh. ‘I am definitely an unknown quantity, but that’s how I like it!’
On Sunday evening, Bonny stood before a full-length mirror and gazed at her reflection. She was wearing a pale russet evening gown that had been their final choice. It showed the deep auburn tones of her hair to perfection. It was a simple style but the cut and swathe of the bodice fitted perfectly. Beneath it she wore black evening court shoes with a diamanté buckle, and around her shoulders, a pale mink jacket that had been hired for the evening. Round her neck was a diamanté necklace and matching earrings hung from her ears. Her long hair was dressed back from her face and cascaded with ringlets. She looked stunning.
Amy Gregg, her landlady, fussed about the hem of her dress, then stood back. ‘There you are, girl. Fit for a king, you are!’
Bonny did a twirl. ‘I’ve never looked like this in my entire life!’ she exclaimed.
‘Well, dear,
And at the end of rehearsals she stormed up to him. ‘In caseyou are unaware of the situation, my fiancé is a backer of this production, and when I tell him I’m in the back row, he will not be pleased!’
Rob looked coldly at her. ‘Don’t you try blackmail with me, Lily. You are only here because of your fiancé, as I’m sure you know. I will not ruin my production on a whim. I’m sure your fiancé would not be pleased to see a number spoilt by your incompetence. Think about it, Lily. If I put you in a prominent position then your man will see for himself you are not up to standard and that would be embarrassing for him.’ He paused. ‘Then, I don’t think he’ll pursue your ambition with quite so much enthusiasm. After all, he’s a canny businessman, he’s put his money into this company because he wants a return. I can assure you he won’t put you before that, however good you are in bed!’ He turned and walked away.
Lily stood fuming, her cheeks flushed. She rushed off the stage, muttering to herself.
Rob was not at all sure how enamoured the backer was with the girl and hoped the man was a shrewd businessman first before being a man in lust or love. If it was the latter, he was in deep trouble.
The rehearsals were going well and Peter Collins was busy selling his forthcoming show to the people who mattered in the theatre. To this end, he’d arranged a cocktail party at the Savoy Hotel on the coming Sunday evening, which would be good publicity as he’d also organised for the press to attend.
‘Go and buy Bonny an evening dress,’ he told Rob. ‘I want her to look stunning when I introduce the pair of you. You will be in a dinner jacket, of course.’
‘Of course,’ smiled Rob. ‘Who have you invited?’
‘Jack Buchanan and Noel Coward, and CB Cochran said he’d try and look in. Apart from several theatre critics – and the backers, of course. We must give them the opportunity to meet the stars; it’s a bonus that comes when they give me their money.’
Rob frowned. No doubt Lily would be among the guests, with her sugar daddy, and that could be very awkward.
Bonny and Rob had a great time shopping for her dress. Away from the rigidity of his role as dance director, she discovered his charm and sense of humour. He also, she discovered, had an innate sense of style.
As she tried on yet another model, chosen by him, curiosity overcame her. ‘How do you know so much about a woman’s apparel?’
He chuckled wickedly. ‘Most of my adult life has been around women. I picked up a few tips.’
‘Mm, I bet you did!’
‘What are you implying, Bonny?’ He raised his eyebrows as he waited for her reply.
‘Nothing, but I am seeing another side to you and it’s a little disconcerting, if I’m honest.’
He started to laugh. ‘I am definitely an unknown quantity, but that’s how I like it!’
On Sunday evening, Bonny stood before a full-length mirror and gazed at her reflection. She was wearing a pale russet evening gown that had been their final choice. It showed the deep auburn tones of her hair to perfection. It was a simple style but the cut and swathe of the bodice fitted perfectly. Beneath it she wore black evening court shoes with a diamanté buckle, and around her shoulders, a pale mink jacket that had been hired for the evening. Round her neck was a diamanté necklace and matching earrings hung from her ears. Her long hair was dressed back from her face and cascaded with ringlets. She looked stunning.
Amy Gregg, her landlady, fussed about the hem of her dress, then stood back. ‘There you are, girl. Fit for a king, you are!’
Bonny did a twirl. ‘I’ve never looked like this in my entire life!’ she exclaimed.
‘Well, dear,
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