Marie said goodbye to Iris and walked into the theatre lobby. The musicians had finished their rehearsals, but a few of them still lingered, including—merde—Frederic.
“Ah, Mademoiselle,” he said and held both hands out to her. “I was hoping you would appear. I hear you are to do the read-through this afternoon?”
“Yes.” Marie clutched her script with both hands and edged away from him. “If you’ll excuse me.”
He stepped in her way, and she had to draw up short lest she appear to fall into his waiting arms. That was a nasty trick.
“I just wanted to invite you to join me for dinner this evening,” he murmured so close his steamy breath stirred the curls that had escaped from her chignon.
She stepped back and wiped a hand across her temple to rid herself of his residue. “I’m afraid I’m unav
