“Yes?”
“Do you realize this is the second time Denise has interrupted a rather important moment between us?”
He grinned.
“I was beginning to notice.”
They walked toward the lobby.
The Starlight was magnificent.
Hundreds of guests filled the restored entrance hall, beneath chandeliers that sparkled as brilliantly as they had sixty years earlier.
The marble staircase curved upward in a sweep of warm ivory and gold.
The painted stars glittered overhead.
Waiters moved through the crowd carrying champagne.
A jazz orchestra played near the grand piano.
Outside, the illuminated marquee reflected against the windows of passing taxis.
Maggie stopped at the top of the staircase.
For a moment, she could hardly believe what she was seeing.
The building was no longer silent.
It was filled with voices.
Laughter.
Music.
Life.
Nicholas stood beside her.
“You did this.”
Maggie shook her head.
“We did.”
He smiled.
“No.”
She looked up.
He continued.
“A great many people helped. But you were the one who refused to believe this place was finished.”
Her eyes filled.
He squeezed her hand.
“Now go on.”
She looked toward the crowd.
“Where?”
He smiled.
“Your audience is waiting.”
Rose Daley introduced Maggie from the stage.
The older woman wore an elegant plum-colored gown and a string of pearls that had belonged to her mother.
Her voice trembled as she spoke.
“Ladies and gentlemen, there are buildings that survive because they are expensive, and there are buildings that survive because someone remembers why they mattered.”
The audience quieted.
Rose glanced toward Maggie.
“This theater survived because one very stubborn young woman refused to let us forget.”
Applause filled the room.
Maggie's cheeks warmed.
Rose smiled.
“Please welcome the woman who helped bring the Starlight back to life, Margaret Bennett.”
The applause grew louder.
Maggie stepped onto the stage.
For several seconds, she could not speak.
She looked out across the auditorium.
Every seat was occupied.
The balcony glowed beneath warm lights.
The grand chandelier shone above the audience.
Then she saw her father.
Louis Bennett sat in the front row, wearing the dark suit he reserved for weddings, funerals, and occasions of extraordinary importance.
His eyes were wet.
Beside him sat Tessa, beaming with pride.
Frances Caldwell applauded enthusiastically.
Isabelle Laurent smiled.
Walter Sterling stood near the aisle, looking unusually moved.
And Nicholas waited near the stage steps, watching Maggie with an expression of unmistakable love.
She took a breath.
“When I was a little girl, my father told me that every building has a story.”
The auditorium became quiet.
“He taught me that places like this matter because of the people who pass through them.”
She looked toward the balcony.
“People come to theaters because they want to feel something. They want to laugh, cry, dream, or forget their troubles for a little while.”
Her voice strengthened.
“For some, the Starlight was simply an old building that had become too expensive to maintain.”
She paused.
“For others, it was the place where they met their husbands, took their children to the movies, heard their first orchestra, or discovered that the world could be larger and more beautiful than they had imagined.”
Her father wiped his eyes.