bewildered look around before finally landing his gaze on Michael. Michael gave him a thumbs-up and then grabbed liberally at his balls. He elbowed Larson and hissed, “You too, buddy. If you ask me, all the men around here could use a little carpe scrotum.”
“Yes,” Dominic asserted, trying for a stern look. It was better than nothing. “But we do it my way. It’s my show, and I make the editorial decisions.”
Rachel stared at the director for an icy-cold minute in which it seemed the entire room might implode. Michael shrugged his shoulders and splayed his hands, hoping Dominic would get the message.
She’s right. Don’t let her walk all over you, but at least fucking listen to what she has to say.
Rachel wasn’t an easy woman by any stretch of the imagination, but it seemed to Michael she knew her shit when it came to this Shakespeare character. He didn’t understand how the people in her life could be so catastrophically intent at pushing all her wrong buttons.
“No,” Rachel declared. She very deliberately avoided looking anywhere within a few hundred feet of where Michael stood. “This scene is too important to Cleopatra’s character development. You know that as well as I do.” Michael cracked his knuckles and settled onto a coil of ropes, his makeshift couch for the past few days, and listened as she repeated much of what she’d said to him in the dressing room. He even bit back a cheer a few times when she made a particularly good argument, Dominic’s face pinching a little tighter each time.
She won, of course. There might have even been scattered applause when Dominic finally conceded.
And for the rest of the day, Michael proceeded to watch the rehearsals, the armor scene firmly in place, waiting for the next argument to erupt.
God help him, even faced with a bum knee and the full force of her wrath, he was actually looking forward to it.
Chapter Eight
In Fair Palouse
“I’m not saying another line until he is out of here.”
Rachel strove to keep her voice down, but it seemed every single person in the building had come over to hear her exchange with Dominic. All you had to do was say “private word,” and every ear in the place perked up.
“I appreciate your position, Rachel, but you also have to appreciate mine. I can’t throw someone out of the company because you don’t like him.”
Dominic was talking down to her, and she could see he thought she was being difficult—they all thought that.
She wasn’t stupid. She knew what people said about her, heard the rumors floating around about why Dominic would be willing to keep her on staff after one of their conflicts. A woman wasn’t allowed to have an opinion about the way a business was run unless she was sleeping with the boss. Dominic wouldn’t respect her professional opinion unless she was bumping and grinding offstage, as well as on.
What garbage. Rachel knew what her strengths and weaknesses were—and so did the people she stood up to. And she especially knew when she was right. If getting other people to agree with her meant the occasional public quarrel, then so be it.
Starting right now.
“Did you see her eye, Dominic? He hit her. That asshole hit her, and you’re letting him waltz around here like it doesn’t matter.”
“What does your sister say?”
Rachel gripped the back of a chair so tight she lost all feeling in her fingertips. She didn’t dare let go. The ground was going to collapse beneath her any minute now—she was sure of it.
“Of course she’s denying it. That’s what she does.”
“And Eric?”
“For crying out loud, Dominic. Like he’s going to admit it to me.”
She should have known better. After the barbeque, she’d actually thought things between her sister and Eric were cooling off. Molly had spent almost every evening at home recently. One of those nights, they’d even made dinner with their mother, who’d been surprisingly sober for six o’clock in the
“Yes,” Dominic asserted, trying for a stern look. It was better than nothing. “But we do it my way. It’s my show, and I make the editorial decisions.”
Rachel stared at the director for an icy-cold minute in which it seemed the entire room might implode. Michael shrugged his shoulders and splayed his hands, hoping Dominic would get the message.
She’s right. Don’t let her walk all over you, but at least fucking listen to what she has to say.
Rachel wasn’t an easy woman by any stretch of the imagination, but it seemed to Michael she knew her shit when it came to this Shakespeare character. He didn’t understand how the people in her life could be so catastrophically intent at pushing all her wrong buttons.
“No,” Rachel declared. She very deliberately avoided looking anywhere within a few hundred feet of where Michael stood. “This scene is too important to Cleopatra’s character development. You know that as well as I do.” Michael cracked his knuckles and settled onto a coil of ropes, his makeshift couch for the past few days, and listened as she repeated much of what she’d said to him in the dressing room. He even bit back a cheer a few times when she made a particularly good argument, Dominic’s face pinching a little tighter each time.
She won, of course. There might have even been scattered applause when Dominic finally conceded.
And for the rest of the day, Michael proceeded to watch the rehearsals, the armor scene firmly in place, waiting for the next argument to erupt.
God help him, even faced with a bum knee and the full force of her wrath, he was actually looking forward to it.
Chapter Eight
In Fair Palouse
“I’m not saying another line until he is out of here.”
Rachel strove to keep her voice down, but it seemed every single person in the building had come over to hear her exchange with Dominic. All you had to do was say “private word,” and every ear in the place perked up.
“I appreciate your position, Rachel, but you also have to appreciate mine. I can’t throw someone out of the company because you don’t like him.”
Dominic was talking down to her, and she could see he thought she was being difficult—they all thought that.
She wasn’t stupid. She knew what people said about her, heard the rumors floating around about why Dominic would be willing to keep her on staff after one of their conflicts. A woman wasn’t allowed to have an opinion about the way a business was run unless she was sleeping with the boss. Dominic wouldn’t respect her professional opinion unless she was bumping and grinding offstage, as well as on.
What garbage. Rachel knew what her strengths and weaknesses were—and so did the people she stood up to. And she especially knew when she was right. If getting other people to agree with her meant the occasional public quarrel, then so be it.
Starting right now.
“Did you see her eye, Dominic? He hit her. That asshole hit her, and you’re letting him waltz around here like it doesn’t matter.”
“What does your sister say?”
Rachel gripped the back of a chair so tight she lost all feeling in her fingertips. She didn’t dare let go. The ground was going to collapse beneath her any minute now—she was sure of it.
“Of course she’s denying it. That’s what she does.”
“And Eric?”
“For crying out loud, Dominic. Like he’s going to admit it to me.”
She should have known better. After the barbeque, she’d actually thought things between her sister and Eric were cooling off. Molly had spent almost every evening at home recently. One of those nights, they’d even made dinner with their mother, who’d been surprisingly sober for six o’clock in the
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