Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Everyone seemed a little more enthusiastic than usual. Jordan practiced her lines with vigor, Winston played his instrument flawlessly, and Presley fussed with the sets. The rest of the volunteers gathered in small groups rehearsing or chatting quietly, but I noticed them steal curious glances his way. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the entire HRS had a crush on Ezra.
I could see why. He was handsome, undeniably charming, and…nice. They didn’t know he was also an arrogant ne’er-do-well.
Except he wasn’t. He’d taken the morning off from studying to help me out and meet a bunch of people he had nothing in common with.
I’d half expected him to opt out, citing that our intimate encounter made things too uncomfortable. And I would have understood. But Ezra showed up. He’d been pleasant and friendly to everyone, voicing self-deprecating concerns about being worthy of the role before donning the cape superhero-style.
So far, so good. Now we just had to go over some linguistic tips and—
“Is this right?” Ezra stepped away from the partition and strutted forward, pushing the cape so it billowed gracefully behind him.
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I couldn’t make words come while my brain was busy cataloging Ezra’s transformation from tattooed, muscled bad-boy hottie to king. His broad shoulders filled out the white shirt and robe. And his natural swagger and innate confidence gave him a cool yet imposing appearance in a pair of breeches that almost no one else on Earth could pull off.
Val squealed in delight, setting her clipboard on a metal chair. She flattened the tie around his neck, fluffed the robe, and adjusted the belt, then stood aside and clapped.
“Bravo, King Henry!”
Ezra bowed for his small audience, hamming it up with a “Thank you very much” a la Elvis.
“Nice fit. You certainly look the part,” I commented. “Now for the acting bit.”
Ezra hooked a thumb in the thick gold-studded belt and practiced a royal wave. “Piece of cake.”
“Not quite. There’s a script. You don’t have to follow it to the letter, but it will help you interact with other cast members.”
“I’ll have Presley bring you a copy,” Val said, running her finger along the faux-fur edging and grinning at me. “Well done, Holden.”
Ezra chuckled softly. “I think she likes me.”
“No flirting with the director,” I grumbled.
“Is that a rule?”
“Yes. We have a zero-tolerance distraction rule,” I lied, adding, “And Val is a happily married lesbian anyway, so…behave.”
“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he teased.
I rolled my eyes. “I am the furthest from jealous one could possibly be and—”
“Here’s the script, Ezra,” Presley interrupted, swinging her long ponytail over her shoulder. “I’m Presley, Val’s assistant and resident bar maiden. If you need anything, please don’t be shy.”
Ezra held his hand out. “Thanks. It’s nice to meet you.”
She smiled brightly, biting her bottom lip in a coquettish manner that clearly invited the very flirtation I’d just said we frowned upon as she lingered over the world’s longest handshake.
I snatched the binder from her and tugged at Ezra’s robe. “If you’ll excuse us, please. Ezra and I need to go over his lines.”
“No problem. We’re going to lower the curtain in a minute to run through a couple of scenes. I know you’re bringing Ezra up to speed, so that should give you a little privacy while we rehearse the court jester segment. Carry on. And welcome, Ezra!”
“Thank you, Presley,” I said crisply.
“Totally jelly,” he singsonged under his breath as she skipped away.
I spared him a dirty look and led the way to the far section of the stage. I pulled two metal chairs side by side. Ezra seated himself with panache, arranging his kingly garments with a casual flip of his wrist and motioning for me to proceed.
“All right. Um…we don’t have a spare copy, so scoot a bit closer.”
Ezra leaned in. “What do we have here?”
A whiff of his cologne and the fresh scent of his shampoo jump-started my pulse. I experienced the same full-body awareness of him I had on the drive here. And last night. And the day before. Why was this happening? I wasn’t supposed to have lusty, amorous inclinations for Ezra. It wasn’t right.
I sucked in a lungful of air and released it slowly, flattening my hand over the binder. “We call this our script, but it’s really just a reference guide. It’s organized in three sections—basic history, cast of characters with notes regarding colloquialisms, and the scheduled acts. We have face-painting, a few rides, arts and crafts, and local artisans selling anything from fudge and candles to woven baskets, jewelry, and honey. This is a small festival by most standards. Some fairs have as many as twenty thousand visitors. We’ll be lucky to get five thousand. That’s all the venue can handle, though. Between the price of admission and vendor fees, we should do okay. I hope. The financial aspect is a headache this year, so we really need to boost attendance.”