“In the first act?”
“Yes.” She pursed her lips as though preparing to fight him.
“Pudding again. Look here.” Carter reached across his desk and she handed back the manuscript. Before he could explain, however, they were interrupted.
“Are you busy?” Mrs. Grey peered inside.
He answered by addressing Elle. “We’ll go over this later.” Carter studied the page. “Bring your second copy tomorrow.”
Without saying another word, he waved a hand dismissing her, and she departed with brisk purpose as his bookkeeper shuffled inside.
“I need you to sign this.” Mrs. Grey placed a contract on his desk. “And this.” She added a copy of the monthly audit.
“Even with the duke’s money, we’re going to come up short on the renovations,” she pointed out. “You’re sure this won’t be a problem?”
“I have additional funds in the works.” Very soon, he would have control of his trust.
Mrs. Grey glanced toward the empty assistant desk. “How is La—How is Miss Sparrow coming along?”
Carter smirked. “Better than expected.” And that was not an exaggeration. Because Miss Sparrow had already proven herself a superior assistant to any of his past hires. And he’d just learned that she was going to be amenable to the changes he wanted.
Something he couldn’t take for granted with all playwrights.
“Everyone loves her. The costume designers, the stagehands, even the actresses who’ve come by.” Mrs. Grey moved toward the exit and then paused, tapping her fingernails on the door before glancing back. “Don’t mess this up, Dodd.”
“Me?” Carter asked innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I won’t say it. But you know exactly what I mean.”
Carter ignored the warning. “Was there anything else you needed?” he asked, signing the last of her documents.
“Oh no. I was just… checking.” And with a snide grin, the bookkeeper backed out of his office, firmly closing the door behind her.
Later that week, while observing his staff from one of the theater wings, Carter became even more convinced that Mrs. Grey had not been exaggerating.
Because Miss Sparrow was, in fact, very well liked among his other employees, indeed. It was as though she’d been born for the theater.
Instead of perusing through some old scenery left behind, Carter Indulged himself momentarily, watching his lovely assistant as she carefully painted a sky on one of their backdrops, broad methodical brush strokes, up and down. She twisted around to say something he couldn’t hear to Miss Samantha Billings, who’d taken over for her father, the owner of Billings and Sons Carpentry, and they both laughed. Other members of the crew glanced over as well, a few staring more than Carter appreciated, one stopping to join in as he passed by.
With more effort than he would have liked, Carter turned back to his own task, but found his eyes drawn back to her again and again.
And once he’d finished, he did not return to his office—even though he should. There was much to do for their next production, but he had always preferred getting his hands dirty working alongside the crew rather than handling the seemingly endless list of necessary administrative tasks.
The atmosphere backstage, even between productions, was heady and full of promise. He inhaled and closed his eyes. He may have been born into the aristocracy, but it was the theater that heated his blood. It was the theater that gave his life meaning.
Miss Sparrow’s tinkling laughter drifted over from the opposite side of the stage, breaking into his thoughts. His reluctance to return to his office had nothing to do with the minx.
Even if she, too, had raised his temperature on a few occasions.
Carter’s heart did something funny in his chest, and before he knew it, he was crossing the stage, unable to resist being closer to the source.
And at the sound of his footsteps, Miss Sparrow pivoted on the ladder, upsetting its balance. Carter surged to a sprint, but wasn’t fast enough and he cursed to himself when she lost her balance. Seconds later, along with a spilled tin of paint, his assistant and playwright lie sprawled on the floor beside Miss Billings.
Blue paint splattered over both of them.
Carter’s stomach sank as he experienced a flash of worry, but then the two glanced up at him and immediately erupted in a fit of giggles.
“What the devil do you think you’re doing?” he addressed Miss Sparrow.
