Chapter 3
Rayne swept his gaze across the small audience gathered to hear his ideas for the playhouse restorations. The arts council had organized the reception so Rayne could meet the people he’d be working with. He’d only had a couple of days to put his presentation together, but he thought he could get the general idea across. The reception was open to others involved in the plans to revive the town’s holiday tourism, and Rayne recognized several local business owners and historians. Most of them appeared friendly, but there were a few wary faces. He’d only had a couple of days to put his presentation together, but he thought he could get the general idea across.
And then there was Emilio, glowering at him from the back of the room like a dark and brooding god.
“Good morning, everyone,” Rayne said, looking around the room again. His gaze lingered on Emilio, and the spark of righteous fire in Emilio’s dark eyes kindled an answering heat in Rayne’s belly as memories of Emilio’s passionate nature rose up. “Thank you for coming. Before I get the opportunity to speak with you all individually, I’d like to share my plans for the Holiday Pines Playhouse restoration project with everyone at one time. I’ll be happy to answer questions afterward.”
He nodded to Steve, who was in charge of the projection system, and began his pitch. He’d spent his first full day in town going over every photo and document he could find related to the playhouse, and Steve had unearthed a treasure trove of information about its construction: invoices, work orders, and even some letters and newspaper articles describing the grand opening. Steve projected scanned images of the documents on a screen while Rayne explained how the images would be used for the restoration.
“I want to use the information in these documents as a starting point. The Art Deco interior is beautiful, and I don’t want to change it. I want to restore it. My goal is to make everyone who visits the playhouse feel like they’ve stepped back in time.” Rayne grew more animated as he spoke. As much as he loved being an interior designer, he’d always been fascinated by historical restoration, and he couldn’t contain his excitement about having the chance to work on a one himself. “We won’t be able to reproduce the playhouse’s original appearance exactly. I’m sure some of the specific brands of wallpaper, carpet, fabric, etcetera, are no longer being manufactured, but I’ll match them as closely as I can in terms of style and color. Art Deco is still popular, so it won’t be difficult to recreate the original style of the playhouse’s interior with modern materials.”
He gestured to Steve, who clicked forward to the next image, which was an article from the local newspaper from December 1, 1928, when the playhouse first opened.
“This article describes the walls of the lobby as having a stark geometric pattern in gold and ivory. I suspect we’ll find the original wallpaper underneath what’s there now, which dates to the makeover the playhouse got in 1983. So we’ll have to decide whether we want to go with the original 1928 look or the later redesign. I’m open to input, but my inclination is to go back to the beginning. I’m going use contemporary resources like this article to form the most complete picture of what the playhouse looked like to patrons when it first opened.” He glanced around at the audience with an open smile and spread his hands. “Any questions?”
Emilio’s glower became a thoughtful frown as he raised a hand and fixed Rayne with a challenging stare, as though he expected to be ignored.
Rayne pointed to Emilio. “Yes?”
“The makeover in ’83 included a significant expansion of the stage and the addition of two side stairways. Are you planning to remove that as well? Because if you do, it will be impossible to stage dance numbers without resorting to the use of temporary platforms.”
“I planned to ask for input on that, actually,” Rayne said. “The whole point of the restoration is to make the playhouse more useful, so if there are any changes from the previous renovation that need to stay, I’m happy to factor that into the plans.”
Emilio apparently wasn’t finished. “What about upgrades to the electrical and lighting? And the speaker system? Do you have a technical consultant to make certain they’re adequate for future needs?”
“As I understand it, there are volunteers with various specializations to assist with the technical end of things.” Rayne looked Emilio full in the face and kept his voice calm and steady as he spoke, treating Emilio as he would any other problematic customer. “Isn’t that right, Steve?” he added.
“Yes, we’ve taken all of that into consideration,” Steve said. “As Rayne mentioned, we want the theater to be useful, so we aren’t going to slap on a coat of paint and call it done. We need the playhouse to be a draw for tourists and that won’t happen with shoddy lights and sound.”
“So is there a performance consultant?” Emilio asked. He didn’t raise his voice, but he seemed to be casting doubt on the utility of the renovations. “Someone from the high school or theater or chorale who is aware of what directors and performers need?”
Rayne was about to respond when Steve stepped forward, visibly irritated. “We do now. Thanks for volunteering, Emilio. You’re now the performance consultant. You can bring your suggestions and requests to Rayne whenever you’re ready.”
For a moment Emilio looked like he might snap at Steve, but then he shrugged. “All right. I accept your gracious offer.”
“Great,” Rayne said flatly. He was picking up on an undercurrent of tension between Steve and Emilio; he didn’t know where it came from, but he didn’t want it to derail the reception or the restoration. “I’ll give you my card. It has my cell number and e-mail. Are there any other questions?”
Emilio returned to glowering, but then the elegant, silver-haired woman next to him leaned over to speak close to Emilio’s ear. Rayne recognized her as Emilio’s mother, Isabel. When he’d left for Atlanta, her hair had been the same glossy black as Emilio’s, and she’d still been running the dance studio.
Whatever Isabel said to Emilio made him shoot a brief, intense look at Rayne before nodding reluctantly. Isabel smiled and patted Emilio’s arm, then settled back in her own chair.
“Okay, if there aren’t any other questions, let’s start the reception,” Rayne said, tearing his attention away from Emilio to address the rest of the group. “I’ll be happy to answer questions or discuss the restoration plans in greater depth if anyone wants to chat one-on-one.”
“Help yourself to the refreshments,” Steve said, his good nature returning now that Emilio had settled down. He left Rayne alone while he mingled with the other attendees.
Rayne saw other familiar faces he could have gone to say hello to, but he decided to remain where he was and let anyone who still had questions or concerns come to him. A few minutes later, Rayne felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. He glanced around to see Isabel Rives standing beside him.
“You’re looking well, Rayne. I understand you’ve been quite the success in Atlanta.”
Rayne smiled politely, wondering if she was going to go after him the way Emilio had. He hoped not; he’d always gotten along well with Isabel, although he’d understand if she did still harbor some animosity toward him for breaking up with her son.
“Thanks, you’re looking well too,” he said.
Isabel’s smile was wry, as if she could tell he was uncertain about her feelings toward him. “I have gone from middle-aged to an old woman, but you’re kind to say so,” she replied. “I was pleased when the arts council decided to offer you the commission. It’s better for someone who knows and loves the theater to handle its makeover. I know you’ll make it magical again.”
Some of the tension Rayne had been carrying for the last ten minutes or so eased a little, and he offered a more genuine smile. “That’s my goal,” he said. “I’m gladyourealize it.”
Isabel’s lips twitched in amusement. “Don’t let Emilio’s bark put you off. He was so certain you were going to turn the theater into something more suitable for Vegas that he was caught off guard. He’s protective of this town, you know. I think when you broke up with him, he felt like you’d broken up with Holiday Pines as well. He may have been willing to give up his home to be with you, but he never would have been happy in Atlanta. His soul is here.”
