Page 65 of A Ballad of Betrayal and Beauty

I blink. “Really?”

“Yeah, I got you that poster. I should see it in context.”

A warmth spreads through my chest. It’s been so long since a guy has taken interest in me and my passions. But Joel? No one has ever made me feel this way since . . .

“Okay,” I say, blinking back tears I won’t let fall. “Pick a seat and I’ll be right back.”

I’m like a teenager again, giddy and bouncing around. Peeking through the projector window, I watch as Joel weaves his way through the rows, his hand gliding along the velvet seats. His long dark hair shines like silk in the light from the chandelier. He’s so beautiful. I can’t wait to hear him play the guitar. My stomach flips. I suppose I have a subconscious thing for musicians. What are the odds that he’s a guitarist in a famous rock band? How will it feel if he plays for me? Will it be liberating? Or will the déjà vu be too painful to bear?

With the movie reel on the projector, I dim the lights and start the machines, then make my way back down to him. There’s a crackling from the speakers coming to life, then a beam of light as the projector lights up the screen. The opening overture of the film sings through the air and I’m greeted by the title sequence. The namesCary GrantandGrace Kellyappear on the screen followed by the titleTo Catch a Thief.

A moment later, I’m sliding into the seat next to Joel, and his hand finds mine instantly.

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen this before,” I whisper.

He leans toward me. “I’m more of a horror guy myself. Met one of my bandmates at a showing ofEvil Dead. But I’ll try anything once.”

Satisfied, I turn back to face the front. “I think I’ve seen this movie a hundred times.”

He tilts his head. “Why so many?”

“I like the mystery, the action . . . the romance.” I watch from my periphery as his eyes briefly flick to mine. “Besides, it’s one of the only movies I could get my hands on as a kid. My parents . . . they didn’t let me watch movies in the house.”

“At all?” he asks.

I shake my head. “My dad—he didn’t just hate the public school system, he also hated Hollywood.”

“I’m sorry.”

I lean a little closer. “Don’t be. I still found a way, just needed to be a bit sneakier.”

He smiles. “Hence knowing how to break into abandoned theaters?”

“Exactly.”

We watch in silence for a while as Cary Grant’s character, who’s a retired cat burglar, has to escape a group of thugs who believe he’s behind a new slew of burglaries. He’s helped in his escape by Grace Kelly.

Even though it’s my favorite film, I admit that it’s hard to pay attention when Joel’s eyes continuously watch me. His calloused thumb brushes the palm of my hand, and I find myself leaning into him, relaxing into his body as the movie goes on.

“It’s too bad this place is abandoned,” Joel whispers. “It’s a gorgeous theatre.”

I nod. “I know, right? I can’t help but think of all the things I would do if I bought it.”

“What would you do?”

“Host movie nights. Feature concerts for local talent. Maybe even have acting and art classes for kids,” I say thoughtfully.

“That sounds amazing,” he replies.

I sigh longingly. “If only I could win the lottery, huh?”

He doesn’t respond, and we spend the next several minutes watching the movie in silence.

“So do you bring all of your adoring fans here?” he whispers.

“Fans?”

“You know, the other poor saps who see you while they’re washing their underwear and fall head over heels.”

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