Free At Hidden Falls (Angel's Bay Novel) by Barbara Freethy Page B

. . but they were all devoted to their theater world, and since his relationship with Kendra, he’d found it difficult to be a part of that.
    His mother looked up and saw him, giving him a welcoming wave. Pamela Strathmore Hartley had met his father, Paul, during a production of
Phantom of the Opera
in New York. She’d played the ingenue, and his father had fallen in love with his mother’s spectacular voice and beautiful face. Her hair was shorter now, with a dark red tint, but she still had a smile that could light up a stage. His father was a true leading man, with dark, handsome looks that always brought droves of women to the backstage door.
    His grandfather, Harrison Hartley, was also onstage. At six foot three, Harrison had an unmistakable presence and a deep, booming voice that carried to the last row of the theater. He’d played a lot of villains in his time, parlaying a sinister, menacing quality to his strong features into a successful career. His grandmother, Alice, was a foot shorter than her husband, and while the others had all been leading-role material, Alice was a character actress who always played the best friend or the sister or the nanny. She had a round face, pale blond hair, and a nervous manner. She could also cry on cue, her most marketable talent. His uncle Richard filled out the group, a boyishly charming man with a big personality and an even bigger smile.
    “You’re late, Nick,” his grandfather barked as he made his way onto the stage.
    “My fault, Grandpa,” Tory interjected. “I stopped him on the way in.”
    Despite being younger, Tory always tried to protect him. She’d sensed early on that someone needed to be a bridge or a translator between him and the rest of the family.
    “Are you ready to do some sketches for us, put together a plan?” his father asked.
    “I can get you started, but I’m not sure how involved I can be. I have some other projects going on and Megan to worry about. Frankly, you still need to figure out if you can even raise enough money to do the restoration.”
    “We’ve been working on some fundraising ideas,” his mother cut in. “Seat sponsors, endowments, that kind of thing. We have to find a way, Nick, because if we can’t bring the theater up to the new earthquake codes, then we’ll have to shut down. That can’t happen.”
    He couldn’t imagine what his parents and grandparents would do without the theater. But that might be a reality they would have to face.
    “Richard sketched out a few ideas for the renovation,” his father continued. “We want to keep as much of the history as we can.”
    Nick stepped over to the table, taking a look at his uncle’s rough drawings.
    “They’re not what you can do,” Richard said. “But I wanted to give you a jump start.”
    “I can see where you’re going.”
    “And we need you to help us get all the way there,” Richard said with a smile. “I know it’s a big job, but you’re up to it, right? I was down in Morro Bay the other day. I saw the work you did for their library. You’ve come a long way from the days when you used to hammer your nails in sideways.”
    “I was always better with concept than execution,” Nick admitted. His early construction days had helped him be a better architect. “Can I take these with me?”
    “Absolutely.”
    “We really need your help, Nick,” his mother added pleadingly. “I can’t imagine anyone in this family surviving without this theater. It’s our livelihood.”
    “There’s always another theater, another town,” he pointed out. He’d spent half his childhood on the road, trading one backstage playground for another as his parents took roles in other productions during the off season.
    “We’re getting too old to traipse around like we used to,” Pamela said.
    “We know you want to refuse this job,” his father put in. “But we won’t make that easy for you. You’re good at what you do, and we need the best.”
    Nick felt an