Aunt Karla claps excitedly. “See? Famous!”
“Aunt Karla. I’m not famous. Two people recognized me.”
“You’re an American ambassador for love, girl. Embrace it!” She claps again. “Excuse me!” Aunt Karla calls out to a group of random strangers. “Famous niece coming through. Move.”
I shake my head in embarrassment and trudge behind her, up the long flight of stairs that lead us out of the subway station.
* * *
We file into the Times Square building where Alan’s office is located and move quickly through security. It’s only a minute before we’re stepping off the elevator and standing in front of suite 1806. I ring the buzzer mounted beside the door.
“Yes?” A male voice that sounds a lot like Alan booms through a sleek mounted camera.
“Hi,” I say. “It’s Jerzie. I have my aunt with me, too.”
“Great. I’ll buzz you in. It’s the last office on the right.”
A second passes and the door buzzes. Aunt Karla yanks it open, and we both step into a simple reception space.
I turn to Aunt Karla. “Would it be okay if I went in alone?” If I’m about to get fired, I really don’t want an audience.
Her expression clouds but she nods in reply. “Sure, hon. Absolutely. I’ll be waiting out here if you change your mind or if they need me for some reason.”
I stuff my phone into the tiny leather purse slung over my shoulder. “Thanks, Aunt Karla.”
I shuffle slowly, my sandals squeaking across the marble flooring as I go. When I push open the last door at the end of the hall, I’m surprised to see Zeppelin, Elias, and Robbie all stuffed into the cramped office space.
“Jerzie. Welcome. Have a seat.” Alan’s warm and friendly as he sips something from a reusable water bottle.
“Hey,” I mumble and slide onto the only empty chair, right beside Zeppelin. I set my gaze on my hands, twisting my fingers like I’m trying to screw them off. The strong heat that emanates off Zeppelin warms me from the inside out. I wonder if his body temperature is higher than the standard 98.6 degrees.
“So,” Alan starts. “Cinny and her manager were supposed to join us, but apparently she’s feeling ‘ill,’ so the meeting will go on without her.” He looks at me now. “We thought it would be good for all of us to be on the same page when it comes to these videos being leaked. Especially you, Jerzie. Since you’ve sort of been thrust in the middle of this mess.”
“Did you guys upload the videos onto YouTube?” I ask.
“Absolutely not.” Robbie clears his throat. “Jerzie, after you left for school, I uploaded the footage from today onto Vimeo. Password protected.”
“So someone hacked into the site and stole the file?” Alan asks.
“Most likely.” Robbie turns to look at Zeppelin. “But the video of Cinny has footage from quite a few rehearsals. Who’s been recording her?”
“Definitely not me.” Zeppelin yawns, as if this whole situation is lulling him to sleep. “And everyone knows I’m pretty much internet and social media illiterate. I’ve never even heard of Vimeo. Besides, Cinny’s my friend. Whoever put that video online must seriously hate her.”
All eyes turn to Elias. He holds up his hands.
“No, no. I do not hate Cinny,” he declares with his strong French accent. “We disagree at times. Yes. But even if I did hate her, I love myself too much to give away my dances for free. A complete routine uploaded onto YouTube? When we are still weeks away from previews? Oh mon dieu. Never.”
Now everyone’s head automatically turns toward me.
“Me?” I state incredulously. “You guys think I did this?”
“Unless she is a wizard transfiguring like Hermione Granger,” Elias states smugly, “there really is no way she could have recorded Cinny in rehearsals where she was not present. As you Americans say, please give me a break.”
Alan downs the rest of whatever is in his bottle before he sets it back on his desk. “So we literally have no idea who could have done this.”
“Let’s ask some of the cast who’ve had altercations with her,” Elias says. “There is Lorin, Damon, Gianna, April, Justin, Angel, Walter, Zoe—”
“Stop.” Robbie shakes his head. “Even if it was somebody from the cast, you think they’re gonna admit it? Let’s leave it to the PI.”
I know I risk sounding silly, but I ask anyway. “What’s a PI?”
“Private investigator,” Robbie replies quickly. “We hired one to look deeper into this.”
There is a long moment of silence, and I wonder what Cinny could have possibly done to piss off a cast member in such a way that they’d seek to destroy her.
“Excuse me?” I raise my hand as if I’m in school. All heads turn toward me. “Hi. Again. So. A friend of mine called me a few hours ago. She said she liked Cinny’s video. She figured it was a publicity stunt. She thought it was funny.”
They all stare blankly, as if wondering if I’ll get to a point.
“I do have a point. Basically it’s this. What if you say it was Production who uploaded the video? As a promotional thing. For the show. I mean, Roman and Jewel is trending. This is a good thing. Right?”
Alan and Robbie exchange bemused expressions, and I get the feeling they’re just now realizing that Roman and Jewel trending is a good thing.
“But then how do they explain our video?” Zeppelin asks.
His soothing voice sends a tingle up my spine. And did he really say “our,” as if we’re some sort of thing? I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from smiling. To be an our with Zeppelin Reid! Okay, stop it! Get it together, Jerzie!
“Well...” I pause. “Who says we have to say anything? Just have Cinny do interviews laughing about the promotional video. She could even say it was her idea. To show the world she can be fun and silly, too. It’ll take the attention away from our video.” Omigosh now I said our. “I mean, me and Zeppelin’s video. And put her front and center. Where she belongs. If anybody asks her about the other video, she can say it was uploaded to give everyone a teaser of what it’s supposed to be like. Since her video was meant to be funny.”
It’s quiet again as the men seem to mull over what I’ve proposed.
“You know what?” Alan says. “I kinda love this idea.”
Robbie exhales. “It’s brilliant.” His gaze settles on me. “You’re a genius, Jerzie.”
Genius? Me? Aww. I place both hands over my cheeks and smile.
Alan drums his fingers on his desk. “We should discuss the particulars. Jerzie and Zeppelin. You guys can head home. Thanks so much for taking the late meeting. Means a lot to have you two on board.”
I can sense Zeppelin studying me. It’s making tiny beads of sweat form at my brow. I use the back of my hand to wipe them away before I stand. “See you all tomorrow then.” I rush to the door.
Zeppelin follows closely behind and pulls the door open for me. I step out of the office quickly. I’m actually contemplating taking this hallway at a dead run to put some distance between us when he calls out my name. I stop as if under a spell.
He steps in front of me, and I have no choice but to look at him. God, he’s beautiful. He runs a hand through his waves of hair.
“Uh. What’s up?” I ask, trying my hardest not to giggle, bite my lip, and bat my eyelashes. In fact, I’m trying so hard to appear like talking to this drop-dead-gorgeous Broadway star is normal that I’m not blinking, and now my eyeballs hurt.
“I have a show tonight. Some of the cast is coming. Going there now actually. Wanna come, too?”
Over his shoulder, I notice Aunt Karla scoot to the edge of the couch in the reception area. She mouths, Is that him?
I take a tiny step to the left so that Zeppelin is blocking me from seeing her. “Oh, a show?” I shrug. “Things are crazy back at my aunt’s pad in Brooklyn.�
� Did I really just say my aunt’s pad? “Probs can’t make it.” What the hell is wrong with me?!
Zeppelin smirks, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Well, if things die down at the ‘pad’ you should come. It’s at Pioneerz. Let’s exchange info.”
“Oh, fa sho. Fa sho.” Oh. My. God. What is wrong with my vocabulary?!
I stare into his eyes. Because his eyebrows and lashes are so dark and his skin is so pale, his eyes seem like Caribbean-blue ocean water surrounded by white sands. I can almost smell the coconut oil, hear the call of the seagulls, feel the sun on my back.
“Can I see your phone?” he asks.
“My phone? Why?”
“To give you my info.”
“Oh, right. Duh.” I smack myself on the forehead. Only, I really smacked myself hard. Right on my bruise. The loud thwack reverberates in the quiet hallway. Ow.
“You okay?” Zeppelin asks, a bemused look on his face.
“You were right. I should’ve let you get me ice for my forehead. Now I do have a nasty bruise.” I grab my phone from inside my purse. His hand grazes mine during the exchange. The skin-to-skin contact lasts for maybe half a second, but a surprising surge of energy lingers at my fingertips, where we connected for the brief moment.
“‘Sorry to hear it, Tuppy.’” He smiles. “‘Whenever people agree with me, I always feel I must be wrong.’”
Did he really just... “Quoting Oscar Wilde?”
“Got something against Oscar Wilde?”
“No,” I breathe excitedly. “I mean, Lady Windermere’s Fan, it’s one of my favorite plays. I love that scene in the play. I love that line.”
“You just keep getting more and more interesting, Jerzie Jhames.”
I was thinking the same thing about him! A wave of calm rushes through me, pushing aside the awkward nervousness. I smile at him. “It’s a movie, too, you know. Have you seen it?”
“Of course I have.” He slides his finger up the screen on my phone and holds it in front of my face, which unlocks it. “Don’t worry, not reading any of your texts. Just leaving my info.” I watch him fiddle with my cell before handing it back. “There. ‘I can resist everything except temptation.’”
Wait a second. That’s what Lord Darlington says to show his intentions toward Lady Windermere. Is he...hitting on me?
“I’m a big theater nerd,” he confesses.
Okay. Not hitting on me. Just quoting more lines from the show.
“My mom used to take me to every play in town.” He offers a weak smile. “Out of town, too. It’s how I got into theater. While other kids were watching Sesame Street, I was watching Hamlet, Oedipus Rex, Prometheus Bound.”
“But those are all so sad.”
“She took me to see Death of a Salesman when I was five. Pretty sure I was the only kid there. Sitting on the edge of my seat. Feeling all depressed and shit for Willy Loman.”
“Poor Willy Loman.”
We both laugh.
I hear Aunt Karla dramatically clearing her throat. Zeppelin hears it, too, because he quickly adds, “Anyway. If you change your mind—Pioneerz in Fort Greene. We go on at ten. I’ll call ahead to make sure you’re on the list.”
I watch him wave politely at Aunt Karla and push through the door that leads out of the reception area and into the hallway.
Aunt Karla rushes toward me. “Girl! He’s a nerd.”
“You were listening to our conversation?”
“Of course I was! And you two are too cute together. You guys are gonna get married and have little nerd babies and become the king and queen of nerdland.”
“Aunt Karla?” I laugh. “We’re not even dating. He was being nice.”
“But he gave you his phone number and asked you out. Sounds like a date to me.”
I don’t want Aunt Karla to make a big deal of this. Besides, it really is nothing. “To be a date,” I start, “I’d have to go. And I’m not going. So that’s that. Besides, he said a bunch of the cast will be there. Trust me. He wasn’t asking me out on a date.” Or was he?
“But he said it’s at Pioneerz. That’s superclose to the house. And it’s a nice place. A safe place.”
“It’s fine. I mean, thanks. But I really don’t wanna go.” Because how awkward would that be? Out in Brooklyn by myself? With all of Zeppelin’s friends? And girlfriends, too?
“If you wanna be lame, then fine.” She crosses her arms. “How’d the meeting go? What they say?”
I grab her by the arm and pull her into the hallway. Once the door to the reception area closes behind us, we move toward the elevator and I fill her in.
“See? All that worryin’ for nothin’.” We make it to the elevator, and she pounds on the call buttons. The doors slide open, and we step inside. “Now can we celebrate?”
“Celebrate what?” I ask as the doors shut and the elevator jerks into motion.
“You being viral!” Aunt Karla gushes. “It’s insane. Most exciting thing to ever happen to our family. Unless you count that time Uncle Roy won that hot-dog-eating competition at the county fair.”
“That was pie eating. And he lost. And ended up in the hospital. Remember?”
“Oh. Well. See. This is the most exciting thing to ever happen to our family.”
“Me getting the lead would’ve been more exciting.”
The elevator lurches to a stop on the lobby floor and the doors slide open.
“Something is seriously wrong with you, little niece.” We move through the revolving doors that lead us back into a monster crowd of pedestrians meandering through Times Square, most with their camera phones pointed up, walking slow and jamming up foot traffic on this warm and muggy New York night.
“Why? Because I’m not geeking out over some dumb video?”
“Jerzie, I’m confused.” Aunt Karla grabs me by my arm and pulls me out of the path of pedestrians. We stand beside one of the many silver carts stocked with waters, sodas, and snacks for sale. “Isn’t this what you wanted? A chance to shine? For it to be your turn?”
“I never wanted to be viral. I wanted my chance on Broadway. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“You wanna be on Broadway?” Aunt Karla points to a street sign. “There it is, right there. You’re on Broadway.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t. You’ve been moping around about this standby situation for weeks now, and it’s startin’ to get on my nerves.”
“I haven’t been moping!” A pair of tourists with an extended selfie stick bump into me. I stumble closer to Aunt Karla. They laugh and scurry off, oblivious to nearly bowling me over.
“The hell you haven’t. You know, you and Cinny have something in common. You’re jealous of each other.”
I glare at my aunt. “Jealous of Cinny? How dumb would that be? It’d be like being jealous of the Queen of England.”
“People can be jealous of the Queen of England. Hell, I’m jealous of Meghan Markle. The Duchess of Sussex?” Aunt Karla smacks her lips. “Whatever. If Harry was gonna marry a black girl, it should’ve been me.”
“Aunt Karla? Be for real.”
“I’m just sayin’. Being honest with yourself is liberating. Say it. Say you’re jealous of Cinny so we can all move on with our lives.”
“But I’m not jealous.”
“Oh, really?” Aunt Karla eyes me disbelievingly. “So you volunteering to step in while Cinny was downstairs for a few minutes had nothing to do with you trying to show her up?”
“What?” My jaw drops. “I was doing a good thing. I was trying to help her.”
“For nineteen years Cinny has managed well without your help. She can handle the role of Jewel.”
My eyes drift over to the swarms of happy tourists. We’re standing across the street from the famous, ruby-red, gl
ass TKTS steps, where tourists gather to people watch or take in the festive energy where Seventh Avenue and Broadway intersect in this magical part of midtown. It feels like an odd juxtaposition, them so jovial and full of life, and me using all my strength to hold back tears.
“But they said I was the best out of all the girls they’d seen. I earned it.”
Aunt Karla places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “The best for this production was someone who can insure ticket sales. Cinny was their choice. She earned the lead. Not you.”
I know it’s true. It still stings.
“I feel bad now,” I say softly. “Maybe on some level, I was trying to show her up. I wanted them to see me. I knew I could do it better.” I look at Aunt Karla. “All the online dragging that’s happening to Cinny? I started it. It’s all my fault, huh?”
“It’s not all your fault.”
“Right,” I nod. “Cinny’s rude and unprofessional, she acts like she doesn’t care, she openly criticizes Broadway greats, she—”
“Would it be better if she was sweet as pie?” Aunt Karla asks.
Would that be better? I imagine a syrupy sweet Cinny. Working hard to make everyone happy. Having genuine chemistry with Zeppelin. Charming Elias. Impressing Alan and Robbie. Wowing everyone. Uggh. “Definitely not.” I shake my head. “Might even be worse.”
“Exactly.”
“Maybe I am jealous then.” I heave a heavy sigh. “Of Cinny. The superstar. How stupid am I?”
Aunt Karla wraps her arms around me and holds me tight. “Feels good, doesn’t it? To admit it?”
“No.” I lay my head on her shoulder. “Feels shitty.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. Being jealous is normal. Unless it turns to hate. Then you get all sorts of problems. Generations of chaos can spring from hate.”
Oh my gosh. Generations of chaos can spring from hate. “Aunt Karla? I think I just figured out what Shakespeare was trying to say.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes! It’s about perception.” I extend my arms as if presenting all of Times Square to Aunt Karla. “Look around.”
Roman and Jewel Page 8
