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How could I possibly ask, though, without dredging up so much more? This was a time for work, dammit, not for wrapping up the past.

“Oh, speak of the devil.” Just like that, I may as well have disappeared. The theater doors opened, and a group of people strolled in, gazing around like they had never seen the place before because they hadn’t.

I noticed how they all flocked to Winter once they spotted her, watching as she received hugs and excited chatter. But it was when Winter lapsed into French that I was in real trouble. Not only was it sexy as hell, but it meant I had no idea what anyone was saying. According to the headshots and résumés she had provided, they all spoke fluent English.

Note to self—request English be used from now on. I didn’t like feeling at a disadvantage.

Before long, the first two rows of the center section were full. All it took was Winter standing in front of the group for them to fall silent before she began to speak. Her voice was full of warmth, and she took her time looking at each of them, making eye contact before moving on. “I can’t tell you how glad I am you were able to join us here for this,” she began, and there was genuine enthusiasm in her voice. “It means so much that we’re all going on this adventure together. For some of you, it’s your first time in the United States, and I hope you all manage to make yourselves comfortable here. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Lifting her hands into the air, her smile widened. “Here we are in this beautiful theater, in this beautiful casino and hotel. We are here to entertain, to dazzle, to help people forget the world outside for a little while. I know you are all more than up to the task before you.”

She was a born leader. I saw that now. My eyes were glued to her every move while I waited with bated breath for her to continue. There was an easiness about her—kindness and warmth that wasn’t necessarily common among artistic types with short tempers and high-strung personalities. Whatever it was that set her apart, it worked because her people were hanging onto her every word as I was.

“And there’s our brave producer, Jackson Bennett.” She surprised me by lifting a hand in my direction, nodding her head. Soon, everyone turned to get a look at me. “Jackson and I go way back. You’ll see him around a lot. But don’t worry, his bark is worse than his bite.”

My molars ground together before I forced a chuckle. Even at a distance, there was no missing the twinkle in her eyes. “All right, everyone.” Checking the time, she announced, “Auditions are set to begin in twenty minutes. Please feel free to make yourselves familiar with the space, but be mindful of the crew who is working today.”

With that, everyone dispersed, chatting and hugging if they hadn’t already. Our eyes met over the top of their heads, and Winter offered a tiny shrug. I gave her a silent clap in response before she took to the stage and warmed up with a couple of the dancers I assumed would lead the auditions.

I’d spent years watching countless beautiful bodies at their peak. However, nothing came close to watching her move like water, flowing easily and effortlessly as auditioning dancers entered the theater and were greeted by Harrison and Sophie, the stage manager. Winter welcomed them once they reached her, roughly three dozen in all, their eager and intense gazes following her.

Mine did, as well, following as she ran through the combination the dancers needed to learn immediately. I never understood how anyone could watch a series of movements once, maybe twice, and be able to perform. Their heads bobbed in time to the count, a few of them making short, quick motions like they were running it through their minds as they watched. The dancers auditioning, and at least a handful of returning dancers, hung around the edges of the stage, stretching and warming up, all except one—Michael something. I remembered his headshot and résumé from the stack Winter had provided. The male lead, the hero, the one who swept in and rescued the plucky heroine from the dangers and evils all around her. He fit the part physically with that lantern jaw of his and a thick head of raven-black hair that looked like it came straight out of an old Disney cartoon. His sleeveless shirt and shorts revealed a lot of muscle, which more than a few auditioning dancers noticed. A couple of the girls stared longer than necessary when he walked past.

Not that he noticed them.

He only had eyes for Winter.

“Okay, I want to see the first six dancers up front. Are we ready, George?” she called out to the accompanist on the piano, who gave her a thumbs-up. “All right, here we go. Five, six, five-six-seven-eight!”

I should have been watching the auditioners, but instead, I observed Michael sauntering over to where Winter stood, clipboard in hand, as she took notes on the dancers’ performances. He murmured something close to her ear, which made her grin.

My fists clenched, blood pounding in my ears. The fuck does he think he’s doing, flirting in the middle of an audition?

Another question bubbled to the surface and poisoned me, making everything go red at once. Were they screwing around back there? Sunning on the Riviera? Hooking up backstage?

“Thank you. Let’s see the next six.” Whatever was running through her mind, Winter was nothing less than professional, scribbling rapidly on her clipboard as another group of dancers took their places. She counted them off, and they launched into the sweeping, energetic combination—leaping, spinning, dropping to the floor before springing back up.

It didn’t take long for me to drop the pretense of being here for any other reason than to observe. The dancers could have been on fire for all I cared. It was Winter and Michael I couldn’t take my eyes away from. It looked like I would have to come up with an excuse to be around more.

“Mr. Bennett? What do you think about these cues?”

The lighting designer’s question made me groan before pressing a finger to the button to activate the headset I forgot I was wearing. “What about them?” I asked since I obviously had no idea what he was talking about. I’d barely realized there were lights at all, much less that he’d been running through a series of changes.

“Do they work?”

“How would I know before we run through the first act? They look fine, but in the context of the show?” Ridiculous. Incompetent. Touching the headset again, I added, “When I want to review the cues, I’ll let you know.”

There was magic happening onstage, and he wanted to know about lighting. Magic that went on for an hour or so before Winter kindly dismissed the first ten dancers who hadn’t made the cut, then offered the remaining performers a break before moving on to the next round. I waited for her to answer a question from Michael, who watched her walk away with a hunger in his gaze that boiled my blood before she returned to where I waited.

“What did you think?” she asked, dropping into the seat beside me. “Did I make the right cuts?”

“You absolutely did. Didn’t Michael agree with you?” There I went again with the pettiness, though she merely snorted.

“No offense to Michael, but he knows better than to disagree.” Glancing my way, she shrugged. “I sort of keep him employed.”

“That never stopped you from disagreeing with me every time you felt like it,” I grumbled.

“Only when you were wrong.” A faint smirk began to spread until I had no choice but to nudge her with my elbow while she giggled.