Page 4 of Small Town Prince Charming

“Tracey.” Ryan inched backward. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She smiled to hide her nervousness. “The sets are great. I’m liking how they’ve come along.” If she’d known he was the one painting them, she would’ve spoken up before.

The muscle in his jaw tightened. “Thanks.”

She longed to run her fingers over his cheek. “I need to speak to you when practice concludes.”

“Yes, because this isn’t a social scene,” Derek said. “Now you get back to work. Tracey, what do you need? The girls have been waiting for an hour.”

She snorted. They hadn’t been waiting for an hour. “Ryan? Please?”

“I’ll find you,” Ryan said and returned to his ladder. At least he would talk to her.

She focused her attention on Derek. “When we were in school, Mr. Holsinger reminded us to work together with the stagehands, the designers, and the dancers. We’re a team. If you berate the dancers or anyone else, it makes working harder. Stop behaving like you’re the biggest man. You’re just as much part of the team as everyone else.”

“You think you’re special because you worked in New York.” Derek clicked his tongue. “Are you going to work with the chorus girls already?”

“Yes.” She hated when Derek behaved this way. “I’d like to do the final checks—even on the girl you dismissed.”

“She’s not getting the steps down.”

“This is community theatre, and she’s a high school student. Back off. Your attitude might be what convinces her to quit or puts her off participating in other projects,” Tracey said. “Did you ask her why she’s messing up? Did you find out if she’s okay? Maybe there’s something going on at home.”

He waved, disdain clear on his face. “Her personal life isn’t my problem.”

“But you’re my problem. I need to work with the girls, so go run lines or something.” She turned her back on him and went in search of the missing dancer. She found the girl in the lobby, sitting on the floor in the corner and crying.

“Hi.” Tracey sat beside her. “You’re still in the production. Trust me.”

“I am?” The girl sniffled. “I’m sorry. I’m not acting professional.”

“You’re how old? Seventeen?”

The girl nodded.

“You can have an emotional day because this isn’t professional theatre.” Tracey folded herself up next to the girl. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Mr. Kraus saw the bruise on my arm and dismissed me because he said it was a tattoo. It’s not.” She lifted her sleeve. “My sister wrecked her car and I got hurt. I broke the window to get out of the car. That’s how I did this.”

“Ouch.” She wondered how the girl wasn’t hurt worse. “What happened?”

“She took the turn on Orchard Road wrong and swerved to miss a deer. We hit the embankment and she flipped the car. She broke her leg and phone, so I had to bust the window to get out and find help. It was in the paper, so he can’t say I lied.” She tugged her sleeve back down. “I’ll cover the bruise with makeup, but Mr. Kraus said I wasn’t keeping up. He told me to quit.”

“You’ve been through trauma. It’ll take time to get through that.” She hugged her. “Look, you survived an accident, and you can survive this. Use your determination to prove Mr. Kraus is wrong. You dance your heart out. I know you can.” She didn’t know the girl’s name, but she believed in her.

“You think so?”

“I do.” She stood. “Let’s go back in so you can return to practicing. I need to check the costumes, and this is my first time working with the chorus.”

“You’re Miss Baker?” The girl hopped to her feet. “Wow.”

“I am. Should I be worried?” She hoped her reputation wasn’t soiled.

“You’re a legend.” The girl beamed. “Did you really perform on Broadway?”

“In a very bit part. My friend needed an extra body on stage, and I was available. Mostly, I did the costumes for the productions,” Tracey said. “Now I’m doing the costumes for you.”

“Thanks.” The girl squared her shoulders. “Did it take guts to do that job?”

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