Chloe's Rescue Mission Read Online Free PDF Page A

sec. I’d really like you to hear the acoustics.’ I stepped forward and waved to Owen in the control room. As I did so, he dimmed the lights and turned up the sound system to play a short track by a local band. I watched Duncan’s face. In the gloom, I could make out a deep, unnerving frown. When the track ended, he merely nodded and waited for me to progress.
    In the first dressing room, where I’d personally replaced every dead light-bulb with a new one, Duncan asked to see the surveyor’s report. Fully prepared, I opened the folder at the right page and handed it over. He glanced through the paragraphs and turned to the builders’ estimates – of which there were two. The frown hadn’t budged. In fact, it seemed even more entrenched. Maybe it would lift when I showed him the presentation Owen and I had spent hours putting together. I was praying it would demonstrate our commitment and professionalism.
    He closed the folder and looked at me. ‘Can I have a copy of this?’
    ‘That is your copy. You can take it away and study it in more detail.’
    He carried on looking at me. His brows lifted slightly. What, I wondered, was he thinking? Was he judging me?
    Snapping back to the present, I announced, ‘Right, to the stage!’ As I strode ahead, I promised myself not to slap my thigh or give him jazz-hands.
    On stage, Owen had placed a desk and two chairs in the centre, and on it the laptop screen showed a looping series of images from past productions. I gestured to Duncan to sit down. ‘I’d like to run through a few facts about the theatre, if I may.’
    The creak of his chair echoed ominously in the empty building. I sat next to him, picked up the mouse and clicked onto the first slide. For several minutes, I talked through historical statistics, pertinent local facts and potential investors. But in the back of my mind, I was recalling the advice I’d given to so many people about making presentations: take your time, breathe properly and speak clearly. Yet I was hurtling through my pitch like there was a bomb ticking under my chair.
    Duncan held up his hand. ‘Chloe,’ he began.
    I froze.
    ‘I can see you’ve put a lot of work into this and it’s great.’
    I blinked back at him, waiting for the ‘but’.
    ‘But…’ He smiled. ‘Relax. I’m not here to test you. I just want to find out whether or not I should get involved.’ He leaned towards me. ‘Okay?’
    I grinned and clasped my hands. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s just – this really means a lot to my family.’
    ‘I know. So, take a deep breath and tell me where you want to go with it.’
    Up this close, I was aware of the pale line of skin between his top lip and the dark shadow of stubble above it. What was the cologne he was wearing – was that a hint of cedar wood, maybe amber too? I could feel the warmth coming off him, or was it just the lights? I noticed him frown again before he glanced across at the mouse. I saw him swallow just before he said quietly, ‘So, when you’re ready…’
    Of course. I breathed deeply, nodded and began again. After several minutes, I reined in my enthusiasm and sat back. ‘I’ll shut up now.’
    One elbow on the desk, Duncan’s head tilted as he looked at me. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth again. ‘Why not tell me more over lunch?’
    ‘Lunch!’ I hadn’t meant it to come out like an accusation.
    He glanced at his watch. ‘Well, it is lunch time.’
    ‘No. Yes. Sorry.’ Damn. It never occurred to me he would want to hang around for lunch. ‘It’s just…’ Oh bollocks. I was about to sound so provincial. ‘Mum’s cooking lunch for the family, and I’ve invited Owen back to thank him for helping me with the presentation. So um…’
    ‘Of course.’ Duncan took hold of the folder in both hands. ‘I should have asked Marlean to ring ahead and check your schedule.’ My schedule? That made me sound important. ‘We can finish up now. If I need any more information, I’ll be in