The Daddy Audition. Cindi Myers

gaze wandered over her, frankly checking her out. The hardness in his expression made her flinch. So many things about Crested Butte had changed in her absence; she hadn’t wanted to believe Jack would be one of them.

      “I take it you’re in charge around here,” he said, with as much emotion as if he’d been talking to a stranger on a loading dock. “Where do you want these scrims?”

      She blinked. Yes, Jack had definitely changed, and like so many things in her hometown, not for the better. “The scrims are stored backstage,” she said, nodding toward the wings.

      “Maybe you’d like to show me where.” The invitation was delivered with the same lazy smile, but with all the hospitality of a threat.

      “I’ll go.” Barbie Fenton, Angela’s understudy, said before Tanya could regain her equilibrium. Barbie hurried to the edge of the stage. “I’ll meet you around back,” she said.

      “We need to run through this scene,” Tanya protested.

      “You don’t really need me,” Barbie said, and rushed backstage before Tanya could say more.

      Tanya turned back to her script, hiding her annoyance and confusion. What was up with Jack? True, he hadn’t bothered to look her up since her return to Crested Butte a few months earlier, but she’d told herself it was merely because he was busy. Or maybe, like her, he needed a little time to get used to the idea of the two of them living near each other again. They were adults now, so the old relationship they had didn’t fit. They needed time to figure out what their new roles would be.

      Laughter, deep and masculine, came from behind stage, and Tanya froze as remembered desire seared her. Ten years had passed since she’d heard him laugh and her body responded as if it was yesterday. Further proof how pitiful her social life in Hollywood had been, that even seven years of marriage hadn’t cooled the heat Jack had once kindled in her.

      “I’m not asking you to trust me, Roxanne, I’m asking you to work with me a little bit.” Oscar read his line. “It’s in our best interest to cooperate.”

      “That’s the wrong line,” Angela said.

      “I didn’t like the one that was written,” Oscar said. “This one is better.”

      The actors’ squabble pulled Tanya out of her daze. “What?” She flipped through the script, trying to hide her confusion.

      “The correct line is ‘I’ll make it worth your while,’” Angela said. “‘It’s in our best interest to cooperate’ sounds like something a banker would say.”

      “But I am a banker,” Oscar protested.

      “Your character isn’t,” Tanya reminded him. “Read the line as written.”

      “I’d just as soon trust a grizzly,” Angela said.

      “I’m a lot more cuddly,” Oscar responded with a leer. “Or don’t you remember?”

      Tanya made it to the end of the run-through, then hurried backstage, hoping to intercept Jack and talk to him. She should have looked him up long before now. Maybe he was upset about that. Fine. She was big enough to apologize. The important thing was there was no reason the two of them couldn’t be friends again.

      She needed something familiar in a town that had changed so much in her decade away. During her brief visits to her family she hadn’t registered that the sleepy mining village she’d left behind had blossomed into a bustling tourist attraction. The mountainsides had filled with ranks of condominiums, and the main street had spruced up with brightly painted shops, restaurants and bars into which tourists and locals alike crowded every night of the week.

      She hurried around a stack of old scenery and skidded to a halt when she heard the low murmur of voices. Before her, in the dusty glow of an overhead bulb, Barbie stood with her back to the saloon scrim, Jack leaning over her. As Tanya watched, he reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Barbie’s ear, an intimate gesture that left Tanya dry-mouthed and embarrassed. She quickly turned away, her cheeks hot. What had she been thinking, running after him that way, as if no time at all had passed since they’d last spoken?

      As if a man like Jack had spent the past ten years waiting for her to walk back into his life.

      JACK HEARD A NOISE and looked up in time to see Tanya disappearing into the darkness. Sighing, he gave Barbie a smile of apology and said, “I’d better go see what the boss lady wants.”

      Barbie made a face. “Just because she acted in Hollywood for a few years, everybody thinks she’s such hot stuff,” she said. “But if she was all that, why didn’t she stay there?”

      Why didn’t she? he thought. He’d heard through the rumor mill that Tanya Bledso was back in town, but having successfully avoided seeing her for weeks, he’d let down his guard. Curiosity over what Tanya was like now had gotten the better of him. The theater had been the obvious place to find her. She’d practically grown up here. He could still remember watching her, at seventeen years old, as she’d wowed everyone with her portrayal of Laurey in Oklahoma!

      And then she’d practically laughed at the idea of remaining in town after graduation and had caught the first bus headed west. She’d had big plans for fame that didn’t include a small-town construction hand like him.

      “Jack? Are you okay?” Barbie tapped his shoulder.

      He blinked at her. “What?”

      “You had this funny look on your face. Like you don’t feel so hot.”

      “No, I’m fine.” He straightened and forced a smile. “I’ll catch you later, Barb. Take care.”

      Then he hurried toward the front of the auditorium, where he found Tanya sorting a stack of scripts. “Hey,” he called.

      She whirled, cheeks flushed, the scripts clutched to her chest like a shield. “Oh, hi, Jack,” she said, composing her features into a mask of coolness. “You surprised me.”

      “Not as much as you surprised me, showing up back here.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the end of the first row of seats. “The last time I saw you, you said you were done with this place forever.”

      She turned away and began shuffling the scripts once more. “I’ve grown up some since then. I have a daughter now and I realized this is a good place to raise a child.”

      Leave it to Tanya to keep catching him off guard. She had a daughter? The idea of a miniature version of her did funny things to his insides. “I didn’t know that,” he said. “What does her father do?”

      “He’s an actor.” She stacked the scripts on a table in an alcove beside the stage and turned to face him. “We’re not married anymore. I’m living with my parents until I can get on my feet again. Anything else you’d like to know?”

      Yeah. What happened to the sweet girl I used to know? He didn’t see much of her in this polished woman with her artfully streaked hair, silk blouse, designer jeans and brittle demeanor. “How long are you staying this time?” he asked instead.

      “Forever,” she said. “This is my home now. It’s where I want to raise my daughter.”

      “It’s changed a little since you lived here last,” he said.

      Her expression clouded. “Yes, it has,” she said. “I’d like to find the person responsible for all those condos spoiling the view.”

      “That would be me,” he said, with a sense of grim satisfaction.

      She stared. “You?”

      “Yes, me.” He straightened. “I built most of those condos, and made a good profit doing it, too.” He might have stayed behind while she went off to the big city, but he’d made a success of himself in spite of that limitation.

      Her expression darkened. “What did you want to do