Scene 42
Reilly felt like a wreck. The emotional rollercoaster he’d been on for days since Scarlett stormed off, and his subsequent talk with has Candace, had left him feeling wrung out.
One moment he was elated that he was so close to accomplishing his goal, then in the next second, he panicked that Candace would renege on their plan, leaving him exposed to career annihilation. They hadn’t had any more contact since he’d left her townhouse. He’d tried calling a few times, to no avail. He just had to trust her, which was no easy feat. Calls to Scarlett had been equally fruitless.
He got a new laptop up and running after his other one was stolen by Margolies’ goons. That distracted him for a day or so, but now he was faced with a blank page and a flashing curser where his pivotal Swan Song review was supposed to materialize.
After a day of pacing around his apartment, he’d taken to the streets, walking what felt like the entire length of Manhattan. The following day, he’d searched the web for cheap islands he could retire to at a moment’s notice with his meager savings. He felt foolish. But it didn’t seem all that far-fetched, considering his situation if things didn’t go as planned.
It didn’t help that he had no one to talk to about his circumstances, his entire career on the line in epic make-or-break proportions. He thought about calling a shrink but didn’t know where to start. And anyway, the information was too sensitive.
He called Scarlett for the hundredth time. “Scarlett, I really need to talk to you. Please call me back. I need you.” He knew his messages were getting more and more pathetic and desperate. At that moment, she was probably getting ready to head to Swan Song’s opening night. His head hurt.
He glanced at the Swan Song ticket on the table. He had been expected at the final preview the previous night to evaluate it for his official review, but he hadn’t even considered showing up. He couldn’t face Scarlett in a public place and risk everything being exposed before things worked out. He had called Scarlett to tell her he wouldn’t be there, but of course she hadn’t answered. He’d already seen the show; not making an appearance wouldn’t impact his ability to write the review.
He knew the Banner would be expecting his review to be submitted that day. They’d be scrambling to make their next day post-opening night print and online publishing deadline.
He sat down to write the review that would seal his fate one way or another, but he was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. He scrambled to pick it up, sure that it was Scarlett, finally throwing him a bone. But the number wasn’t one he immediately recognized.
“Hello?” he said.
“Hello, Reilly.” Reilly swallowed hard.
“Hello, sir.” It was Margolies.
“It’s come to my attention that you didn’t show up at Swan Song last night. Are we going to have a problem?”
Reilly sat down hard on the couch. “Uh...no. No problem. I saw it last weekend with...” He stopped himself from almost mentioning Scarlett.
“I see,” Margolies said, softly. “So you’ve had nearly a whole week to write your review and, yet, Candace told me that you haven’t turned one in yet.”
So Candace had been talking to Margolies. What did that mean about their plan? Had she changed her mind? Had Margolies somehow talked her out of it? He hoped she was still playing along. The uncertainty was maddening.
“I’m working on it right now.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. “My computer was stolen last week,” he added with the slightest hint of an accusation. “I’ll get the review to Candace soon.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. I would hate to think that you had changed your mind,” said Margolies, menacingly.
“Of course not, sir,” Reilly said.
“Good boy. Oh, and Reilly...”
“Yes?”
“You look good with a beard.” The line went dead.
Reilly’s blood ran cold. How did Margolies know that he hadn’t bothered to shave in almost a week? Reilly dashed over to the window and violently pulled down the blinds. What the hell have I gotten myself into? he thought for the thousandth time. Is this what Kanter had to deal with? The thought horrified him.
His adrenaline pumping, he sat down at the computer and began to write. The words came easily. He had been practicing writing reviews for weeks, after all, until things had gone south. He knew how to frame the review. He knew what the readers would want to hear, how to get the right pull quotes for the producers—Scarlett!—and how to keep them all reading to the end.
In less than an hour, the formerly blank screen was populated from top to bottom with words about Swan Song. He read it over only once for last-minute typos, opened his email, and sent it to Candace. The second he hit “send,” he crumpled to the floor. It was out of his hands. He stayed there, face down, spread eagled, both relieved and petrified about what he’d just done.
The good news is, he thought, I’ve done everything I can to make things right. The bad news is, he had absolutely no idea what would happen to him next.
Scene 43
Scarlett adjusted her short, red strapless cocktail dress as she stepped out of the limo in front of the theater. She was flattered to see heads turn in appreciation as she stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the Manhattan Theatre Workshop. Despite the recent turn of events, Lawrence had insisted that they stick to their original plans for opening night, which included arriving in style at the theater.
Lawrence and the Jeremys were right behind her, piling out of the car, looking equally elegant in their suits. They made their way into the lobby, which was already crowded with many of their friends as well as several important patrons of the theater. A glittering opening-night crowd, everyone was in great spirits. Scarlett pushed through the lobby to check in with the artistic director. On her way, she overheard Broadway buzz about their show from numerous patrons.
She wondered for a second where Reilly’s review was at that moment. Were his lethal words being run through the presses? It was common for reviews to appear online the same night as opening. She hadn’t decided whether she’d look for it that night. Probably not. She wanted to enjoy one last night of glory before all their dreams came officially crashing down.
As patrons filed into the theater and took their seats, Scarlett remained standing at the back corner of the theater, where she could take in the audience and the stage. She could feel the positive energy and electric vibe pulsing in the room. The people knew they were in for a treat.
“You did good, Gorgeous,” Lawrence whispered into her ear, standing beside her in the shadowy corner.
She squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Lawrence. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. I’d probably be at home right now with my head in the oven.”
“You don’t have an oven,” he said.
“Good point. I’ve never thought of that as a plus before,” she said, smiling at Lawrence before turning back to gaze out over the crowd.
“Look at them,” Scarlett said. They both looked down at the Jeremys, who were whispering to each other from their seats, third row center. “I love those guys.”
“They’re the best,” Lawrence said. “They deserve success with this show. As do you, Gorgeous.”
“We’ll see,” she said, letting go of his hand. “Even if we can pull off your harebrained plan, it might be too late for Swan Song.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he said with a twinkle in his eye as the houselights went down, indicating the show was about to start. “We’re changing history,” he whispered. “There’s no telling what may happen.”
Scarlett and Lawrence stood side by side, watching the show for the entire evening. The opening-night party went by in a blur of champagne and compliments. Positive reviews in smaller publications had already started to come out, and the potential of a Broadway transfer was the talk of
the evening, despite the conspicuous silence from the Banner. Scarlett had a great time; only in the limo on the way home did she allow herself to think about the review.
They dropped the Jeremys off at home first.
“No matter what happens,” Scarlett said, hugging them goodbye, “you guys have shown the world that your talent is not to be ignored!”
“We love you, Scarlett!” Jersey Jeremy said, giddy from the evening’s success and drunk from the festivities.
“To us!” Buff Jeremy said, raising the half-full champagne bottle he clutched in his hand.
“Do we need to get you guys into bed?” Lawrence asked, laughing as champagne splashed on the Jeremys as they staggered happily to the door of their building.
“We could ask you two the same thing!” Jersey Jeremy said with a devilish wink as they disappeared inside.
“They make a good point,” Lawrence said, raising his eyebrows at Scarlett. “Shall we make a night of it? It’s been ages since you’ve stayed over at my place.”
Scarlett smiled, remembering how much fun she used to have with happy-go-lucky, no-strings-attached Lawrence—before Reilly appeared in her life. How did my life get so complicated so quickly? she wondered. “It’s tempting. But I don’t think it’s a good idea, Lawrence. We’re working together now.”
“That never stopped us before,” Lawrence said with a wicked grin.
“It’s different now,” she said with exasperation, then her tone became more serious. “And anyway, look what my last relationship did for my career. If that’s not my cue to take a break from men for a while, I don’t know what is.”
“Just know I’m here, if the rebound mood strikes you,” he said, stretching out his legs in the back of the limo.
“That’s very generous of you,” she said, smiling.
“I’m a generous guy.” He smiled back.
At that moment, she just wanted to get out of her party dress, into her PJs, and sleep until the next day’s inevitable disappointments for the theater and the cast had blown over. She hated to think how devastated everyone would be. At least the four of them had had time to brace themselves…not that that had really helped, but it was better than nothing.
Suddenly morbid curiosity got the better of her, and she couldn’t resist knowing what the review said any longer—particularly when she realized that, without a computer, she wouldn’t be able to check the online reviews when she got home.
“I don’t suppose you’ve checked the reviews?” she asked Lawrence.
“I’ll admit I’ve been keeping an eye on them all night. Really positive stuff from just about everyone.” He pulled out his fancy phone. It was an even newer model than the one she’d seen him with just a few days before. He really was a tech nerd. “The Wall Street Journal could have been nicer, but that’s no surprise. Their reviewer hates musicals.”
“No one cares what he has to say, anyway,” Scarlett said. “Is that a new phone?”
“Yep. Pretty cool, huh?” He held it toward her so she could see the screen.
“What did you do with your old one?”
“Nothing. Why, do you want it?”
“Maybe I could borrow it? I don’t have a laptop anymore, and the internet is slow on my ancient phone.”
“Sure, but if you need a computer, I can just hook you up with a laptop. I might have ten or twelve to spare,” he said, ruefully.
“I’d love to borrow one, if you don’t mind.”
“Done,” he said, and his attention became absorbed in something on his device. “Well, I’ve been checking the reviews all night, and there are some great ones, of course…but still nothing from the Banner.”
“That’s strange,” she said. It was nearly 2:00 a.m. and the Banner’s online review should have been out.
“I guess the suspense continues,” he said as the limo pulled up in front of her apartment building.
“Do you want to come back to my place and get the laptop now, so you have it for the weekend?” he said, in a last valiant effort to get her to come home with him.
“Nice try, but no,” she said, sliding out of the car.
“A man’s got to try. It’s my job.” He walked her to the door of the building.
“And you’re great at it. All the girls say so,” she said, laughing.
“What else do all the girls say about me?” he said, taking her teasing in stride.
“All I know is this girl is very grateful for everything you’ve done for her recently. I mean that. Thank you.” She kissed his cheek and went inside, waving to him from behind the glass doors. He blew her a kiss before disappearing back into the sleek black limo.
She finally allowed herself to take her shoes off in the elevator on the way to her apartment. It had turned out to be a surprisingly great night. Who would have thought she’d enjoy the evening so much, given the circumstances?
As she turned the corner into the hallway, something caught her eye in front of her door. She leaned down and found a rose wrapped in a tube of paper. She let herself into her apartment and removed the paper from around the rose, curious as to what it could possibly say. More opening-night congratulations? Her parents had sent flowers earlier in the day and other opening-night gifts had been delivered to the theater. She’d have to collect them tomorrow.
She flipped on a light and sat down on the corner of her bed and unrolled the tube of paper. It was a printout of an email from Reilly to Candace earlier that evening.
Subject: Swan Song review
Headline: “Swan Song Soars”
Her eyes widened as she scanned the unmistakably rave review, with Reilly’s perfect balance of acerbic wit and informed commentary thrown in for good measure. Everything a Banner critic’s review should be, she thought—not to mention, it was everything that Swan Song deserved.
Scarlett took a deep breath. Does this mean what I think it means? Had Reilly just sacrificed his own career for her and her show?
Scene 44
Reilly woke up groggy and disoriented. He sat up and looked at the clock. It was dark, but he could see morning light peeking around his closed blinds. Suddenly the events of yesterday flooded back. He flopped back on the bed then changed his mind and scrambled to his computer.
Nothing in his emails from Candace, and more distressing, nothing from Scarlett. Maybe it is too late, he thought. He had waited in front of her apartment until nearly 1:00 a.m., but she’d never shown up. Either the opening night festivities had gone on into the wee hours of the morning, or she had already replaced him. Had she been seeing her money guy, Lawrence? He felt sick, thinking he might have destroyed the best thing that had happened to him in years. Funny how he hadn’t realized it until it was too late.
A beep from his cell phone interrupted his thoughts. He pounced on it and, to his relief, saw that he had a voicemail from Candace. But it was the voicemail from Scarlett that captured his full attention. As the sound of Scarlett’s voice on his answering machine filled his ears, all thoughts of Candace flew out of his head.
Scarlett had gotten the review he’d left on her doorstep and wanted to see him. Her message had come in at 2:00 a.m. She must have just been out late and hadn’t gone home with anyone else. He felt like a silly school boy, so great was his relief.
He called Scarlett.
“Hello?”
He woke her up. It was 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday, after all.
“Can you ever forgive me?”
“Reilly! Hi! I tried to reach you last night,” she said, coming fully awake. “I can’t believe what you did for Swan Song.”
“How could I live with myself, if I built my career on a lie and hurt the person I care most about?”
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“Then you’ll forgive me for being an ass? Fo
r getting myself into this situation in the first place?” he asked.
“I know Margolies. I know he put you in a tough position.”
“I guess he’ll be in for a surprise this morning when he opens his paper,” he said with a feeling of satisfaction tempered with a lingering sense of dread.
“So you haven’t heard from him? Or the Banner?” she asked.
The things that had seemed so important the previous night seemed insignificant in light of Scarlett’s willingness to forgive him. But would she take him back?
“I don’t care about any of that,” he said, not yet wanting to face the inevitable fallout of what he’d done. “When can I see you?”
“Well...I’m still in bed, but I can get up and be at your place in a bit.”
“I’m up now. Can I just come over?” he said, not wanting to wait another minute to see her again.
“Sure. Oh, and Reilly, grab a copy of today’s Banner on your way here.”
Twenty minutes later, she answered the door to her apartment wearing a purple satin robe he hadn’t seen before. He wanted to take her in his arms right there, but he wasn’t totally sure how things stood between them. He knew that just because she’d let him come over didn’t necessarily mean they were back together.
“Your paper delivery, my lady,” he said, presenting her a copy of the Banner with both hands.
She laughed. “Come in.”
“Nice robe,” he teased.
“Well, you didn’t exactly give me time to get ready!” she said, though he could tell she’d brushed her hair and maybe even put on a little makeup. He took it as a good sign that she wanted to look nice for him. Maybe he could dare to hope that she still cared for him. “Coffee?” she asked. A pot was brewing.
She poured them each a cup as they both stared at the Banner laying between them on the kitchen counter.
“Ready to see your review in print?” she said, momentarily wondering if the Jeremys or Lawrence had been up early and seen it yet. She hadn’t called them last night because it had been too late. But she was surprised that no one had called her yet.
Showbiz, A Novel Page 18
