Center Stage by Bernadette Marie Page B

good taste, and she must have it, too. John Forrester was a catch, and not one of her family members would disagree.
    They ate dinner in silence. It seemed to be the way the man worked. It wasn’t until she’d pushed her plate away that John looked up at her to speak.
    “You wouldn’t want to take a drive, would you?”
    Arianna shrugged her shoulders. “If you’d like to.”
    “I have something I want to show you.”
    “It’s almost eight. You want to show me something in the dark?”
    His lips pursed. “Yes.”
     
    John wasn’t sure she’d take him up on his offer, but he simply couldn’t hold out any longer. He drove through Nashville with Arianna seated right next to him. If ever there was a reason to keep a truck with an old bench seat, this was one of them.
    George Strait was on the iPod, and the hum of the heater filled any void where silence might become awkward. He knew he was in his own kind of heaven.
    Arianna watched the sights of the city, in full swing, from the window. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Are we just going to pass each of these bars or go in one? I mean, at least we’re in a city where there is ample entertainment.”
    “We’re almost there.”
    He saw the building in the distance. Without any of the lights on, it made the entire neighborhood dark. The sight was eerie and unsettling.
    John pulled the truck up in front and parked.
    Arianna looked around. “This is where you wanted to go?”
    “What do you think?”
    She looked around and then back at him. “Of what?”
    “The building. It’s the old Rockwell Theater.”
    She narrowed her eyebrows as if she were trying to remember something. “The last show they did here was a community version of Phantom, right?”
    He chuckled. “I have no idea. I have to admit, theater isn’t my thing—usually.”
    Arianna let out a grunt and then turned her attention back to the building. “So, why are we here?”
    “They have the building slated for demolition unless someone buys it and renovates it.”
    He watched her process the information. “So, it’s for sale?”
    “Yes.”
    He couldn’t quite read her and that bothered him.
    “You’d mentioned that you’d like to do community theater and teach.”
    “I did.” Her words were drawn out slowly.
    John turned in his seat to face her. “I have a business proposition for you.”
    “I’m listening.” Again, her words stretched out.
    “I’ve worked for Benson, Benson, and Hart since I was twenty. I learned a trade under Zach’s grandfather and was promoted under Zach’s father. I took Zach to work with me for years, teaching him a trade. They’ve always taken care of me.” He was rambling. “Point is, other than my TV, my recliner, and my import beer, I’ve never needed for anything—until now.”
    He heard her suck in a breath. “What does that mean?”
    “It means I would like to buy this theater, with some matched investment capital from Benson, Benson, and Hart.”
    She nodded. “And what are you going to do with that?”
    “That’s my business offer for you. I want to help you renovate it and open your theater.”
    “You want to buy me a theater?”
    “Well, no. Yes. What I mean is it’s an investment. I know you can do this, and I want to help.”
    This time she crossed her arms, and he knew that wasn’t a good sign. She contemplated for a moment longer.“I don’t know what I want to do.”
    “You told me…”
    “I know what I told you. I didn’t think you were listening.”
    If she’d only known what he’d been hearing for the past year. “If this isn’t what you want…”
    “I don’t want to owe anyone.”
    “It wouldn’t be like that.”
    “It would be exactly like that. I’d owe you and Zach.”
    “But you’d have this.” He raised his hands as if to present the theater.
    She sat there silent for a moment longer. “I’m cold. I think I’d like to go home.”
    John let out a deep breath and headed back home. He’d