Read Online Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 by Gayle Parness - Free Book Online
Authors: Gayle Parness
Tags: Magic, paranormal romance, Vampires, Werewolves, demon, paranormal series, theta, nyc adventure, werewolves demons and vampires, demon villian
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good cook, he could run
his own restaurant. I'd be a regular customer."
Alan laughed, placing the dish in
front of her with a certain amount of flare. "Your scrambled eggs
and toast, Mademoiselle."
Ingrid smiled back. "Thank you,
Monsieur. It smells delicious. Meal times with my other troupes
were never much fun."
"Troupes?" Diane picked up on the
comment.
Ingrid sighed, preparing herself for
the usual questions and snide remarks. "This is my
fourth."
"Your fourth?" Sam asked, leading
Staci to a chair. When his partner was seated, he poured two mugs
of coffee, humming to himself. He was taller than Gene, but also
slightly leaner, his fifty-plus years only beginning to show in the
salt and pepper color of his still-thick hair. On the other hand,
Staci looked closer in age to Diane, her mahogany skin shining in
the sunlight steaming in from the open window—not a wrinkle in
sight. "The Director allowed you to quit the other troupes?" he
asked.
"Not exactly."
"They tossed you out?" Diane asked,
eager to hear more.
"That's closer. It was more of a
mutual decision, except for the last troupe." Everyone had heard
the publicized version of the unfortunate incident in Atlanta.
Thankfully, none of them questioned her about it.
"But why the others?" Diane asked,
insistent,—a dog with a bone.
"I don't tolerate assholes well." The
room grew still and Ingrid continued quietly. "According to my
file, I’m difficult."
Staci’s brow creased. "If that was the
case, The Director would have retired you, not put you in the top
troupe." In the world thetas inhabited, retirement didn’t include a
pension and a lovely cottage on the seashore.
"He won't retire her." Alan said, his
eyes wide. "She's perfect."
Diane's eyes narrowed. "Oh my, look
who has a crush on our new Ingrid. Poor boy can't get it up, but he
can still dream, can't he?"
"Diane!" Staci jumped out of her seat
and moved around the end of the table toward Alan, squeezing his
arm in a gesture of support. "Would you make your delicious
blueberry pancakes? Sam and I love them."
"Sure, Staci," Alan whispered,
humiliated by Diane’s cruel comment.
"Add one more to that order, please,"
Gene faced Diane and spoke firmly. "We would all appreciate it, if
you'd keep your ugly thoughts inside your head and not force the
rest of us to listen to them. Ingrid is not a threat to your status
in the troupe, Diane, so get over your insecurities and wake up
Dave before he misses breakfast.”
"You’re not in charge, and I don't
give a shit if he misses breakfast," Diane snapped back.
"You should." Ingrid was shocked to
hear Mack's voice, his entrance missed because of all the drama.
"You're smarter than that. One weak link affects our entire
performance. Please wake him up." Diane nodded and stood,
surprisingly obedient. As she walked up the stairs Mack added, "You
know better than to stay out when we have a rehearsal the next
afternoon."
She stopped and turned.
"It never affects my performance."
"Diane."
She gave him a look that could have
frozen the Atlantic, but the dark fire in Mack's hazel eyes was
even more intense. "I'll knock on his door." She shrugged and
continued up the stairs.
"She's probably hung over." Staci
whispered after Diane had disappeared.
"Don't make excuses for her. She's
jealous of Ingrid,” Gene said.
"She doesn't even know me," Ingrid
protested quietly.
Gene shook his head. "She's read the
e-mags, seen the pictures. You're the top Ingrid in the US." To
make his point he grabbed Sass, moving his fingers through the air
in a blur of motion. "Just look."
Before them spun a holo of Ingrid in
all her glory, dressed to the nines for a premiere in a turquoise
gown that matched her eyes. She was smiling and waving. Underneath
the image was a running feed, the headline in capitals.
NUMBER ONE INGRID TO JOIN
NEW YORK'S TOP THETA TROUPE
Rising from the ashes of
her recent tragedy, the former Ingrid Stone will now be delighting
audiences as the newest
his own restaurant. I'd be a regular customer."
Alan laughed, placing the dish in
front of her with a certain amount of flare. "Your scrambled eggs
and toast, Mademoiselle."
Ingrid smiled back. "Thank you,
Monsieur. It smells delicious. Meal times with my other troupes
were never much fun."
"Troupes?" Diane picked up on the
comment.
Ingrid sighed, preparing herself for
the usual questions and snide remarks. "This is my
fourth."
"Your fourth?" Sam asked, leading
Staci to a chair. When his partner was seated, he poured two mugs
of coffee, humming to himself. He was taller than Gene, but also
slightly leaner, his fifty-plus years only beginning to show in the
salt and pepper color of his still-thick hair. On the other hand,
Staci looked closer in age to Diane, her mahogany skin shining in
the sunlight steaming in from the open window—not a wrinkle in
sight. "The Director allowed you to quit the other troupes?" he
asked.
"Not exactly."
"They tossed you out?" Diane asked,
eager to hear more.
"That's closer. It was more of a
mutual decision, except for the last troupe." Everyone had heard
the publicized version of the unfortunate incident in Atlanta.
Thankfully, none of them questioned her about it.
"But why the others?" Diane asked,
insistent,—a dog with a bone.
"I don't tolerate assholes well." The
room grew still and Ingrid continued quietly. "According to my
file, I’m difficult."
Staci’s brow creased. "If that was the
case, The Director would have retired you, not put you in the top
troupe." In the world thetas inhabited, retirement didn’t include a
pension and a lovely cottage on the seashore.
"He won't retire her." Alan said, his
eyes wide. "She's perfect."
Diane's eyes narrowed. "Oh my, look
who has a crush on our new Ingrid. Poor boy can't get it up, but he
can still dream, can't he?"
"Diane!" Staci jumped out of her seat
and moved around the end of the table toward Alan, squeezing his
arm in a gesture of support. "Would you make your delicious
blueberry pancakes? Sam and I love them."
"Sure, Staci," Alan whispered,
humiliated by Diane’s cruel comment.
"Add one more to that order, please,"
Gene faced Diane and spoke firmly. "We would all appreciate it, if
you'd keep your ugly thoughts inside your head and not force the
rest of us to listen to them. Ingrid is not a threat to your status
in the troupe, Diane, so get over your insecurities and wake up
Dave before he misses breakfast.”
"You’re not in charge, and I don't
give a shit if he misses breakfast," Diane snapped back.
"You should." Ingrid was shocked to
hear Mack's voice, his entrance missed because of all the drama.
"You're smarter than that. One weak link affects our entire
performance. Please wake him up." Diane nodded and stood,
surprisingly obedient. As she walked up the stairs Mack added, "You
know better than to stay out when we have a rehearsal the next
afternoon."
She stopped and turned.
"It never affects my performance."
"Diane."
She gave him a look that could have
frozen the Atlantic, but the dark fire in Mack's hazel eyes was
even more intense. "I'll knock on his door." She shrugged and
continued up the stairs.
"She's probably hung over." Staci
whispered after Diane had disappeared.
"Don't make excuses for her. She's
jealous of Ingrid,” Gene said.
"She doesn't even know me," Ingrid
protested quietly.
Gene shook his head. "She's read the
e-mags, seen the pictures. You're the top Ingrid in the US." To
make his point he grabbed Sass, moving his fingers through the air
in a blur of motion. "Just look."
Before them spun a holo of Ingrid in
all her glory, dressed to the nines for a premiere in a turquoise
gown that matched her eyes. She was smiling and waving. Underneath
the image was a running feed, the headline in capitals.
NUMBER ONE INGRID TO JOIN
NEW YORK'S TOP THETA TROUPE
Rising from the ashes of
her recent tragedy, the former Ingrid Stone will now be delighting
audiences as the newest
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