Silver Screen Romance

Davia shrugged. “Did your uncle ever mention the place?” She strolled back to her desk, resting against the edge once more.

“Not a peep.” Kale pushed off from the window. “I never heard of it before talking to my lawyer yesterday.”

“Yeah, me, either.” Davia sighed. “I guess it’s worth it to at least go and see what’s out there. Then I can decide where to go from there.”

“Well, just so you know, I don’t plan to fight over it—whatever it is. I mean to accept whatever offer you make me and I only plan to accept it from you.”

Davia closed her mouth once she’d finally realized it was hanging open. Easing off the desk, she reclaimed the chair behind it. “Why would you do something like that?” she managed to ask after a lengthy pause. “From what I’ve heard, there’s some developer already interested in the area. You’re sure to get a pretty penny from selling to them. Why give me the option?”

Kale claimed the spot Davia had abandoned along the edge of her desk. “A few reasons.”

She laughed, swiveling her chair a bit. “You still haven’t shared all the reasons you came to see me.”

“That’s right.” He gave a playful wince that simply intensified the dreamy appeal of his creamy, chocolate-doused features. “Like I said, I came to see you about selling the place.” His expression turned more serious and his eyes darkened. “I also came to see if you were as incredible to look at in person as you were in the file photo my lawyer gave to me.”

Davia felt her heart make an unexpected and frantic shimmy into the back of her throat.

“And...I came to talk to you about Martella Friedman.”

Davia’s heart stumbled into a suddenly upset stomach. She sighed. “And just when we were getting along so well.”

Chapter 3 (#u11d3f8b8-d5a5-5f54-b6d4-953f007d3c02)

“So your generous offer is motivated by guilt.”

“No.”

Davia regarded him through narrowed eyes. “Then why are we discussing Martella Friedman?”

“Because you’re misinformed about what went on there.”

“I see... Misinformed that you seduced her business out from under her.”

His laughter was brief yet full of genuine humor.

“Very misinformed,” he insisted.

Davia resented the feel of her mouth tightening but she couldn’t help it. “Kale, this all went down years ago, you know? Why offer an explanation about it now?”

“We’ve never been business partners before.”

“We aren’t business partners now.”

He gave a slight nod. “Closest we’ve ever come.”

“Not quite.” Davia left her chair and returned to stare out over her view again.

“I was there the day her creditors came calling.”

Davia rounded on him, her expression a mixture of amazement and suspicion. “I think you mean her predators.” The clarification sounded hard as stone.

Kale seemed satisfied. “Looks like we’ve at least got a little information in common.”

Davia turned to the windows again. She didn’t want to cry for her friend in front of this man—this stranger. “So, what happened? How is it you came to own Tella’s theater?”

Kale smoothed his fist inside his palm. “I think you know I don’t own it now.”

“But you did. Explain that.”

Kale took a seat in Davia’s desk chair, appreciating the decadent peach suede encasing every inch of the furnishing. “I was there that day for inspiration for an annex I was building on one of my multiplexes. I was looking for something inviting, quaint... Martella’s theater had what I wanted...what I was hoping to recreate in my spot. That’s all. We weren’t in business, Davia.” He waited, hoping she would turn so that he could judge her expression. There, he hoped to find just a little understanding. When she didn’t turn, he continued.

“I was on my way out for the day. I was in town for a few days and had planned to come back to make a few notes before I left for Miami. I went by her office to let her know that I was going and I overheard her inside with her...creditors. It didn’t take much to get the gist of what was up. The place wasn’t open yet for business. I guess they figured they’d caught her there alone.” He paused as the memory overtook him.

“I was about to go in to break their legs before they could break hers—which was what they were threatening.”

By then Davia had turned from the window. Her gaze was rapt with interest as she absorbed the story. “Did you think you could take them?” She tried to ease her jitters by teasing.

Kale smirked a little. “Not before I got in the office.” He shrugged. “Then I was pretty sure I could, but I also heard her telling them she’d have all the money with interest by the following Monday. I heard the figure, went in there and made a big deal about the place being just what I wanted. Then I made an offer. Forty K over what she needed.”

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.

“I pretended to be surprised when I noticed her friends,” he went on. “I told her I was ready to transfer money as soon as I saw the paperwork and such. Told her I’d be back with my people later in the week.” He smirked again, the gesture carrying lethal intent.

“The garbage in there with her said it wouldn’t be necessary, that they were on their way out. They left and she broke down, told me everything. The gambling—how deep she was in and to how many people. I wound up padding a hundred K onto what she owed to the guys in her office.”

While Kale talked, Davia sat in a chair in front of her desk. “But what happened? How—?”

“I made the mistake of returning with one hundred and seventy-five thousand in cash.”

Davia closed her eyes and hung her head. “Tella...” she whispered, lamenting her friend.

“Even still, she wanted everything by the book. She would’ve refused the money otherwise. She didn’t want it to look like a handout.” Kale shook his head. “I had the papers in hand the next day.” He left the desk chair. Fist clenched, he slowly paced the area behind it.

“I was an idiot,” he said, his rich voice carrying across the room, “charging in there like that without bothering to think. I should’ve known when I heard how much she was in for that she had a serious problem. I should’ve anticipated that she’d—”

“You couldn’t have anticipated that.” Davia scooted toward the edge of her chair. “She didn’t want help. Not the kind we were trying to give her. Not the help she really needed.” She slumped back then and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’d been talking to her about selling the theater to me. She wouldn’t even consider taking my money outright when I offered—and it looked like she was even going to turn down my offer to buy it.” Davia let out a soft, cold laugh. “Had I made the kind of gesture you did—padding the offer like that—she probably wouldn’t have accepted that, either.”

Kale’s fierce expression had softened as he’d listened. “Sometimes it’s easier to accept help from strangers than friends. How long have you guys been close?” He came over to take the empty chair beside her.

“Since college.” Davia gave a shaky smile. “When I found out her family was in the theater business, my aunt went with me for a weekend visit.” She closed her eyes in appreciation of the memory. “Such an amazing place...”

“Very amazing,” Kale said.

“That weekend we saw Bram Stoker’s Dracula.” She smiled as she remembered.

“Coppola’s?” Kale queried.