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  Sasha watched him, her mouth turned down, eyes narrowed in disapproval as he came toward her. He returned her glare.

  “Ma,” he said when he reached the ground floor and confronted her over the wrought iron newel post. “You can’t just send random women up to my room.”

  His mother gave him one of her elaborate shrugs, the kind that managed to be equal parts dismissive and superior. She’d raised him cleaning other people’s houses, often on her knees as she frequently and proudly declared. But no queen could be as disdainful as Ma when she chose to be. “You like her. It’s obvious.”

  Yes, he did. A lot. But he didn’t need his mother knowing that. “How can you possibly know if I like her or not? You let her in, eavesdropped on her telling me off and then watched her as she walked out. At no point did you see us together.”

  “I saw all I needed to see because I saw your face just now as you stood there at the top of the stairs watching her leave. I know your face. I’ve had thirty-two years to get perfectly familiar with it. You like her and don’t you even try to convince me that’s not so.”

  “Ma—”

  “We had an agreement and I am only keeping my part of it.”

  “Wait. What? Agreement? What agreement?”

  Sasha gave him zero indication she’d noticed the three question marks in what he’d just said. “What I’m trying to get through to you is that it’s not a problem.”

  “Not a—huh?”

  “I’m telling you, I like her, too. She’s got spunk and it’s obvious from what I just heard that she has values, as well. She cares about what really matters in life. And that is why I’m giving you permission to get to know her better.”

  He stuck his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “Do you hear yourself?”

  “Don’t even try to pretend you have no idea what I’m talking about. We discussed this. You’ve been married twice. Both times were your choice and both times were disasters. Both times, I warned you—begged you—please, not to do it. Charlene was a gold digger and Nina...” She caught herself before she said something bad about Nina with Theo right there in her arms. Nina had been Theo’s mother, after all. “May she rest in peace, Nina was not the right woman for you. I understand why you went there, with Nina anyway. You’re a good man at heart and you wanted to do right with a little one on the way.”

  “Ma—”

  “I’m still talking. You got married twice, though I tried to warn you against both bad decisions. Catastrophes ensued. And that’s why we agreed that you wouldn’t get anything started with a woman until I got a look at her and gave you my approval.”

  He’d made no such agreement. But arguing the point with her would get him nowhere.

  She kept right on talking. “And, Roman, what were you thinking, deciding to close down the theater? That is not why I insisted you buy it for me. I forbid you to turn my theater into some chichi hotel.”

  Theo, who up till then had sat silent on his grandmother’s arm, his head swiveling back and forth between Roman and Sasha like a mesmerized spectator at a tennis match, chose that moment to crow, “Da-Da!” Little arms outstretched, he fell toward Roman.

  Roman caught him, turned his ball cap around, dropped a quick kiss on his forehead and leveled narrowed eyes on his mother. “What do you mean, you forbid me? I’m in property development. It’s what I do. And if ever a property called out for development, that theater is it. I have to do something with it, Ma.”

  “Yes, you do. You have to make it the best theater it can be for the sake of every man, woman and child in Valentine Bay.”

  “No, I do not.”

  “Oh, but you most certainly do. You’re a rich man, Roman. And we both know you got your start in very lucky ways. Yes, you worked hard. But you had that nest egg Patrick sent to fund your education.”

  Patrick. Roman could live his whole life without ever hearing that name again. He’d always wondered if there was something going on between his mother and Patrick Holland all those years ago—but no. That was impossible. Sometimes Ma drove him stark raving out of his mind, but she was a good woman, loyal and true-hearted to the core. Patrick was a married man. Sasha Marek would never put moves on another woman’s husband—especially not the husband of Irene Holland, who had treated her like a sister and Roman like her own son.

  Roman felt a sharp pinch in the vicinity of his heart, the one he got every time he thought of Irene, no matter how many years went by. Reenie, he used to call her. He’d adored her completely—until that awful day when everything blew wide open.

  Sasha kept talking, driving her point home. “And then there was that winning Megabucks ticket I gave you on your twenty-first birthday.” The year he turned eighteen, she’d begun buying him good-luck lottery tickets for his birthday and at Christmas. On his twenty-first birthday, the Megabucks ticket had hit big. She rubbed it in. “That ticket set you on the road to success. The universe has smiled on you, Roman Marek, and now you need to give back. You can make that girl’s dream come true and do something really good for this town.”

  Theo had started chanting, “Da-Da, Da-Da, Da-Da,” as he tried to stick his fingers up Roman’s nose. Roman caught his busy little hand, kissed it and reminded his mother, “That girl’s dream is not my responsibility and I never cared all that much for this town, Ma. You know that. I’m only here because you love it here and because you insisted that coming back here to live would be better for Theo.”

  She pinned him with a burning look. “Don’t be hard and unfeeling. You don’t need another hotel. Roman, you need to give that girl her dream.”

  Really, why was he still standing here? There was no point in engaging with her when she got like this. Without another word, he turned and carried his son to the kitchen to give him a snack.

  Behind him, he heard Sasha huff in complete disgust. But at least she let it go.

  For now, anyway.

  * * *

  Harper was already at Pacific Bargain Mall when Hailey arrived. They wandered the little shops together, buying old clothing that could be made into costumes and a couple of giant, battered potbellied planters. Spray-painted black, the planters would serve as cauldrons for the haunted house. The kids loved the cauldrons filled with dry ice that produced a lot of spooky smoke, so the more cauldrons the better. They found old chairs, a rickety table and a bunch of fallish silk floral that would help dress the Fall Revue sets.

  As they shopped, Hailey tried to decide when to break the bad news about the theater to her sister. It was going to be extra painful to go into it, given that the man who was not renewing their contract in January just happened to be the same guy Hailey had made such a big deal about meeting only a few days before.

  Uh-uh. The pain was too fresh. She couldn’t talk about Roman with her sister right now. She might start shrieking in fury—or break down in frustrated tears.

  Later. Maybe this evening over beers at Beach Street Brews or tomorrow morning during breakfast. She needed a little distance from the humiliation of what had happened just an hour before.

  Unfortunately, her sister knew her too well. No sooner had Hailey made the decision to put off discussing Studly McBastard and his plans to turn the theater into a hotel, than her sister said, “Whatever it is, you should just go ahead and tell me.”

  Hailey scrunched up her nose. “Have we got time for a coffee?”

  “That bad, huh?” Harper took Hailey’s hand. “Come on.”

  In the Steamy Bean around the corner, they treated themselves to pumpkin spice lattes.

  “Well, that’s just crappy on every level,” said Harper once Hailey had told all.

  “Yeah.” Hailey took a slow sip of pumpkin-y goodness and licked the sweet foam from her upper lip. “The jerk never called and he’s a heartless money-grubber with no social conscience whatsoever.”

  “Oh, honey. You are s
eriously ticked off.”

  Hailey drew herself up tall in the bentwood chair. “Maybe. Just a little.”

  “You should seduce him. Wait till he falls asleep and then take embarrassing pictures of him and threaten to put them on Instagram if he doesn’t change his mind about closing the theater.”

  “To seduce him, I would have to have sex with him.”

  “Yep. It’s a great sacrifice, I know. But you need to do it anyway, for the sake of community theaters everywhere.”

  Hailey gave a snort-laugh. She did love her sister. Harper never failed to make a dark moment brighter. “Oh, so you mean it’s like my civic duty to crawl in bed with the jerk?”

  “Yes! That is exactly what it is. A selfless act of pure love.”

  “Okay, now you’re getting a little carried away.”

  Harper reached across the café table and squeezed Hailey’s arm. “Honestly, though. You all right?”

  Hailey drew in a slow breath and exhaled on a determined nod. “I’ve been better. But I will survive.”

  * * *

  Rehearsal was at three that afternoon.

  At two, Hailey sat alone at her folding table in the first row of the auditorium. She was working through pre-blocking for the second act of the Fall Revue, which was going to be a circus, especially the finale, when just about every kid in town would crowd onstage and ultimately take a bow. Unfortunately, her mind kept getting hijacked by grim thoughts of next fall, when they would probably be trying to put the show on in a barn, which looked like such fun in those old Judy Garland movies.

  In real life, however? Not so much.

  “Hailey?” said a husky woman’s voice from up on the stage.

  Hailey glanced up from her tablet and into the gray-green eyes of the woman who’d opened the door for her at Roman’s house. The woman stood downstage, center. She had that sweet little one with her in a stroller.

  “Ah-ta!” said the child, waving his chubby hands gleefully. The toy in the baby’s left hand had a rattle in it. It made clicking sounds as the little sweetie shook it.

  “I’m Sasha Marek,” said the woman. “Roman’s mother. I wonder, can we talk for a moment?”

  Roman’s mom. Somehow, it made him seem more human to think of him having an actual mom—and the last thing Hailey wanted was to think of him as human. She was really angry with him, after all, and preferred to picture him springing forth fully formed from the head of a demon or some other purely evil mythological creature.

  “Is this a bad time?” Roman’s gorgeous mom looked concerned.

  And she’d seemed nice enough this morning. People always blamed the mother for what their children grew up to be. But Roman didn’t seem at all like the type to be guided by a mother’s wisdom.

  So yeah. Not this woman’s fault that Roman Marek was a jackass.

  “Not a bad time at all,” said Hailey, and forced a smile. There were a few folding chairs and music stands scattered around up there on the stage. Stairs led down to audience level on either side. “Have a seat. I’ll come up.” She ran up the steps and took a chair beside the one Sasha had chosen. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, for starters, I just want to apologize for the way Roman behaved this morning.”

  “It’s not your fault, so there’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

  “Still, I feel guilty.” In the stroller, the child let out another string of nonsense syllables and dropped the toy. Sasha picked it up and gave it back.

  Was the baby hers? Or Roman’s?

  “What’s your baby’s name?” Hailey asked.

  Sasha let out a husky laugh. “My grandson’s name is Theo.”

  “Roman’s his dad?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s a cutie.” The little boy was also yet another major bit of information Roman had failed to share last Monday.

  “Roman has a lot of faults,” his mother said ruefully. “But he’s a wonderful, loving father.”

  “Good to know.” Hailey tried not to sound overly sarcastic.

  Sasha sighed—and then changed the subject. “I made Roman buy this theater.”

  That was a surprise. “You did?”

  “Yes. I used to bring him here all the time when he was a boy, during those first couple of years after we moved to town. They offered second-run movies then, two-dollar admission. And there were other community activities for free or for practically nothing. We didn’t have much back then, Roman and me. His father, my husband, Roman Sr., had died suddenly when Roman was only two.”

  “I’m so sorry...”

  Sasha gave her a benevolent smile. “We moved to Valentine Bay when Roman was eight. And it meant so much, to have somewhere fun to go for the right price. That’s why, when I heard the old owner had died, I asked my son to step up and buy this place.”

  “You thought it might make a great hotel?”

  Sasha rescued the little boy’s rattle again, patiently handed it to him and then explained, “Unfortunately, though my son is a loving father and loyal son, he is also thickheaded, with a one-track mind. To him, property should equal profit and profit means money. He doesn’t immediately consider how much profit there can be in community activities, in lending a hand, in creating safe spaces for children to grow and learn in. I should have made it very clear right from the start that I meant he should buy this theater in order to make sure it continued to be used for the good of everyone in town, no matter their financial circumstances.”

  “Are you saying you actually told him to buy it so that it would remain a community resource?”

  “I did—or I thought I did. But I didn’t make myself clear enough, evidently. I will keep after him to do the right thing, you can be sure of that.”

  “That’s kind of you, thanks.” Roman might be impossible, but Hailey really did like his mom. And she was starting to feel more than a little bit sheepish about her actions that morning. “I shouldn’t have come barging in on you like that earlier. It’s a long story, but I was angry at your son and I did kind of cross a line.”

  Sasha frowned. “No. Wait. I completely disagree.”

  “Um, you do?”

  “Yes. Absolutely. I love the way you stood up to my son. Roman needs more of that in his life—of people who stand up to him. You may not believe this, but he really is a good man. He’s so pigheaded, though. He needs a woman of courage, strength and heart, a woman who will always challenge him to do what’s right and always be there for him. Roman thinks he knows everything, but he’s wrong, as so many men are.”

  Where was this going? Hailey wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  Sasha leaned closer to Hailey and pitched her voice to a more confidential level. “You should have met his ex-wives. Selfish women, spoiled, with way too much interest in the things that money can buy. He married them anyway—one because she managed to make him believe she loved him when what she really loved were the things he could buy for her. And the other because...” She glanced over at the little boy, who had fallen fast asleep, his chin tipped down, his lower lip adorably pooched out. Sasha went on in a whisper, “...she got pregnant with his son. I have a feeling about you, though, a really good feeling.” Roman’s mom put a hand to her heart. “With you, it will be different.”

  Hailey blinked. Was this woman matchmaking her and Roman? Talk about a stretch. She needed to nip that idea right in the bud. “Sasha, I have a question for you, and I would appreciate an honest answer.”

  “Of course.”

  “Are you playing matchmaker?”

  Sasha laughed then. “Relax. I know what I’m doing.”

  “I don’t think you understand. There’s really and truly nothing to matchmake.”

  “I think you’re wrong.”

  “No, I’m not. I met your son Monday, right here in the theater. I liked him then, a
lot. We even went to lunch together. I thought we had...I don’t know, a connection, I guess you could say. I told him things I don’t tell other people. He in no way returned the favor. Looking back on the time I spent with him, I realize now that he gave me nothing about himself. He didn’t say that he’d been married twice. He didn’t even mention that sweet little boy asleep in the stroller. I talked a lot about this theater and said how worried I was because someone had bought it and I had no idea what the new owner’s plans might be. Roman didn’t reveal that he was the new owner in question. He did ask for my number, though.”

  “But you wouldn’t give it to him?”

  “No, I gave it to him. And he didn’t call.”

  Sasha waved a hand. “He likes you too much. That scares him. But you don’t have to worry. He’ll get over that.”

  Hailey folded her arms across her middle. “I really think it’s too late now.”

  “No, it’s not. You’ll see.”

  No, she wouldn’t. She’d been silly to assume that Roman was someone special. He wasn’t. And she had pre-blocking to get back to. “It’s nice that you stopped by, Sasha. And I hate to cut this conversation short, but I’ve got a million things that need doing...”

  “Hmm. I see I’ve said too much. I do that sometimes.”

  “Actually, I appreciate your honesty. It’s refreshing.”

  Sasha stood. “I know I’ll be seeing more of you.”

  “You really shouldn’t count on that.”

  Roman’s mom gave an easy shrug. “Before I go, I do want to offer to pitch in around here, to help out any way I can.”

  Hailey grinned then. “First rule of community theater. Never turn down a volunteer.” She took a business card from the pocket of her shirt. “That’s my sister Harper’s number, right under mine. From props to costumes to set painting, Harper runs all the crews. Give her a call. She’ll put you to work.”