Read Online Night Storm by Tracey Devlyn - Free Book Online Page B

notice the hum of activity before now, with her thoughts so focused on surviving the next step up. But even with the excited shouts, clacking heels against wood, and other noises Charlotte could not identify, their private niche felt worlds apart from it all.
    “Piper’s right,” she said. “This is absolutely perfect.”
    The stagehand’s face took on the same reddish hue as his hair. “I’ll send Felix up for you once his audition is over.”
    Piper laid a hand on the young man’s sleeve. “Thank you, Peter.”
    “Any time, Miss Piper.”
    Two rather flimsy-looking wood railings separated their niche from a two-story fall. Piper rested her forearms on the top railing and peered way over to get the best advantage. Charlotte fisted her hands in her lap, holding back a motherly scold. When Piper’s bum came out of her seat, Charlotte’s control snapped. “Piper, for the sake of my nerves, would you please stay on this side of that less-than-substantial barrier you’re leaning on?”
    Her assistant’s eyes sparkled. “I had no notion heights affected you so.”
    “That is because there’s never been an occasion for me to reveal such weakness.”
    “I don’t consider it a weakness. Everyone is unnerved by something.”
    Charlotte did her level best not to smile at the mature quality to Piper’s statement. “Oh? What unnerves you?”
    “Cockroaches.” Her whole body shuddered. “Nasty, sneaky little creatures. I cannot bear to be in the same room with them—not even to eradicate them.”
    Charlotte chuckled. “In that, I cannot blame you. I have a similar aversion to mice.”
    A hum of anxious murmurs sounded from below. Moments later, a silent group of men and women of various ages marched single file to the middle of the stage. Each of them carried a single sheet of paper. Charlotte spotted Felix’s mop of blond at the end of the line. Only one other among the group appeared to be his age.
    As if reading her thoughts, Piper asked, “Do you think he’s up against only one other actor for the part?”
    “I’m guessing as much.”
    One by one they turned toward the audience. Some wore confident expressions, some wore arrogant expressions. Most seemed ready to bolt. Felix appeared a little scared, but determined.
    A smartly dressed gentleman strolled with quick, sure strides onto the stage. “Welcome to the Augusta Theatre. For those who don’t know me, I’m Mr. Riordan, the manager here.”
    With his hands behind his back, he paused center stage. “We are in the final stages of casting for The Sacred Tree , with only three more characters left to cast. When it is your turn on stage, wait for our instructions and begin with your prepared monologue. There will be a brief moment of silence as we talk among ourselves. You may be asked to do a passage from your sheet, or you may be asked to leave.” He walked the line, assessing each actor or would-be actor with a critical eye. “If you do not get a part in this production and wish to try for another later on, accept our decision graciously and exit the stage. Argue with us at your peril. Understood?”
    “Yes, Mr. Riordan,” the group said in unison.
    Charlotte eyed the manager, wondering what it was about him that had worried Peter. Although the gentleman was direct in his approach, she detected nothing in his manner to cause alarm.
    “Now that we have that unpleasantness out of the way, shall we begin?” He didn’t wait for their response. “Mr. Waters, you’re up first. Begin when you’re ready.” The manager trotted down a set of short stairs leading to the benches in the audience. There, he joined two other gentlemen.
    The low lighting and distance prevented Charlotte from distinguishing their features or, in fact, recognizing either man. However, she couldn’t help but notice how the two men faded into insignificance when faced with the manager’s commanding presence.
    A gentleman in his mid-thirties remained on the stage while the