The Jewel and the Key Read Online Free

is having a baby or something. And it wouldn’t matter anyway. He didn’t cast me last year—I only got that walk-on....”
    â€œSo it was all Tom,” Whaley said darkly, rubbing the knuckles on one hand. “Want me to pound his face in?”
    â€œNo!”
Geez, you’d think he could keep away from the subject of fighting just for a second.
    â€œMy great-aunt was a director,” Mrs. Turner interjected, settling herself at the table. She leaned back comfortably in her favorite chair. “Did I ever tell you that?”
    Addie shook her head, grateful for the change of subject.
    â€œShe was. She lived in this house all her life, you know.”
    â€œThis house?” Addie looked at her in surprise.
    â€œOh, that’s right.” Dad glanced up from the bottle of red wine he was uncorking. “I remember you said a relative of yours lived here before you sold us the place, Margie.”
    â€œThat was Aunt Meg. I inherited it from her.” Mrs. T. took the bottle from him and splashed red wine into her glass. “Directed until she was in her eighties, God love her! A real terror, too.”
    Dad looked at Addie thoughtfully. “What can I tell you, sweetheart? I’ve watched them pick other kids for the big parts as long as you’ve been at that school. We all know you’re good.” He shrugged. “Maybe they’re just jealous.”
    Addie shook her head. Sorry for herself she might be, but she wasn’t going to be that self-indulgent. “Or maybe I’m no good. You can’t rule out that possibility.”
    â€œNonsense!” Mrs. T. cried. “We’ve all seen you act. You’re with people who don’t appreciate you.”
    â€œTrue.” Almaz stuck a candle in each candleholder and lit them. “Tom Stark’s not a terror. He’s a drippy dishcloth. And Mr. Crowley isn’t much better. I don’t care if his wife is having a dozen babies.” The little flames danced as she blew out the match.
    They were almost cheering her up. Then Dad said, “Poor Addie. I was sure you’d get the part.”
    â€œSo was I.” Addie was mortified to hear a catch in her voice.
    â€œIf it’s any comfort, Whaley's makeup is brilliant,” Mrs. Turner said. “Where’d you get the idea?”
    â€œFrom a book downstairs. I’ll get it and show you, if someone else will drain the spaghetti.” Suddenly, she was dying to be alone. Too much sympathy was as deadening as none at all. “Can I have the keys, Dad?”
    â€œJust remember to lock up.” He dug into his pocket and held them out.
    She grabbed the key chain, darted out of the room, and headed down the steps to the back hallway.
    â€œWhew,” she said softly as she stepped inside the shop. She put the keys in her pocket, shut the door, and leaned against it. For a moment she just inhaled the comforting smells of coffee, yellowing pages, and furniture polish. A faint butterscotch light filtered through the big bay windows in the front, touching the book-lined walls. Shadows filled the store. Addie closed her eyes, savoring the moment of solitude.
    But the humiliation still felt like a raw, ragged wound, and she couldn’t get beyond it. Not yet. Because she hadn’t told them everything. How Keira would skewer all the people who auditioned on her Facebook page. Sun was on her friends list (who knew why) and told Addie the sort of things she wrote there. God knew what Keira and her clique said about her behind her back. It was like getting bad reviews when you weren’t even performing. Getting bad reviews just for existing.
    She opened her eyes and went in search of the book, shoving the rolling ladder out of her way as she went.
    The shiny oak floorboards creaked beneath her feet. How many afternoons had she spent here, dreaming, memorizing lines? Since she was eleven or twelve she’d been reading her way