‘Olivia!’ Lillian Vega stepped forwards quickly, shielding Charles from the others. ‘You have to tell me all about the production,’ she said, looking as excited as Ivy when a new Pall Bearers album was about to be released. Lillian’s job was as an Assistant Director on Hollywood movies – she had first met Charles when one of her movies filmed in Franklin Grove. ‘What kind of cameras were they using on-set?’
‘Um . . . black ones?’ Olivia shrugged, laughing as she sat back down next to Ivy.
Her stepmom frowned. ‘But were they film or lightweight DV? And what was the “FPS” rate?’
Ivy snickered. ‘From the look on Olivia’s face, I think you might as well have just asked that question in Latin!’
‘Sorry.’ Olivia smiled apologetically. ‘If I knew, I would tell you.’
‘Oh . . . of course.’ Lillian sighed. ‘I haven’t been on a film set since before the wedding. I was just looking forward to getting some good technical details. Never mind.’
‘Well, you know what us thespians are like when it comes to the nitty-gritty of production,’ Olivia said lightly. ‘It’s all magic and fairy lights to us.’
She was hoping to get a laugh . . . but Lillian only looked more depressed.
This is weird. Olivia turned to trade a worried look with Ivy. Their stepmom was usually upbeat around the twins and any guests – always the perfect hostess. What could be going on to make her so morose right now?
Brendan’s cellphone broke the awkward silence. He slipped it out of his jeans pocket, took one look, and immediately silenced the call. At the same moment, Lillian suddenly brightened.
‘What about the director?’ she asked. ‘I’ve heard Tom Taylor can be a bit of a perfectionist. Does he ask for a lot of takes?’
Finally, a question I can answer! ‘Ohh, yes.’ Olivia groaned. ‘The number of times I had to repeat the same action – just walking into a room, or hanging up a phone! Seriously, how can there be a wrong way to hang up a phone?’
‘Well . . .’ Lillian’s face lit up with interest. She leaned forward, as if to respond . . .
. . . But Ivy spoke before she could, looking straight at Charles. ‘Now that we’re all here and settled down, could you please tell us your “big news”?’
Olivia frowned as she saw her stepmom sink back, looking deflated at the interruption, but Ivy didn’t seem to notice. She was already turning to Olivia and the Abbotts to explain:
‘He’s been teasing us with this “upcoming announcement” for the last three days!’
‘Ohhh, that’s right.’ Olivia nodded. ‘You sent me that text yesterday saying he had big news, but you never told me what it was.’
‘That’s because he won’t tell anybody!’ Ivy growled.
‘Until now.’ Charles grinned. ‘If I may have a drumroll, please . . .’
Brendan made drumming noises on the coffee table with his fingertips, and everyone laughed, gathering close to listen.
Charles cleared his throat. ‘Several years ago, I hosted an exhibit of rare, Eastern European fashions at the Franklin Grove museum. It was quite popular at the time, and apparently some people haven’t forgotten it . . . so I’ve now been asked to curate and host another exhibit, on artefacts from the same region!’
‘Wow.’ Ivy shared a wide-eyed look with Olivia. ‘That is big news!’
‘Congratulations, darling,’ Lillian said, and turned to kiss him on the cheek.
‘Yes, what an honour,’ Mrs Abbott said warmly.
‘Good for you, Charles.’ Mr Abbott beamed. When he took a deep breath, Olivia rolled her eyes as Ivy grinned at her. Another one of Mr Abbott’s deep quotes was coming. ‘“What we are today comes from our thoughts of yesterday, and our present thoughts build our life of tomorrow: Our life is the creation of our mind.”’
‘Er . . . yes. Thank you.’ Charles bowed to the room at large.
Olivia was still fixated on what he’d said first, though. ‘You hosted a fashion exhibit? I wish I’d been living in Franklin Grove back then to see it!’
‘Really?’ Charles raised his eyebrows. ‘Lots of those dresses are still on display.’
‘What?’ Olivia sat bolt-upright. ‘There are vintage fashions on display in Franklin Grove . . . And no one told me?’
Laughing, Ivy nudged her. ‘Did you even know there was a museum in this town?’
‘That’s not the point,’ Olivia said, with a mock scowl for her twin.
‘Better yet,’ Charles added, ‘I’ve also been asked to come up with interior designs for the museum’s South Wing.’
‘The South Wing?’ Mr Abbott frowned. ‘What’s in there now?’
‘Nothing,’ Charles said. ‘It has been closed for years, but they’re thinking of re-opening it if my exhibit is successful. So, I’m pulling out all the stops. I’ve arranged for the loan of several priceless historical artefacts to be shipped over specially from Transylvania.’
‘My goodness.’ Mrs Abbott shook her head in wonder. ‘How on earth did you manage that?’
‘Well, I had some help.’ Charles smiled. ‘My parents, the Count and Countess Lazar, pulled a few . . . delicate strings.’
Olivia grinned at her sister. Sometimes it was cool having Transylvanian royalty for family.
Brendan’s phone rang again. This time, Olivia noticed a definite flash of irritation cross his face, but instead of silencing the phone, he stood up.