by Beth Merlin
He flipped her headshot over to the backside. “No.”
“That might be okay. Stephen loves a good career comeback story.”
“Whatever,” he sighed. “I’m gonna go grab some coffee.”
Colin was a musical theater snob. He hated Andrew Lloyd Webber, barely tolerated Rodgers and Hammerstein, but worshiped Stephen Sondheim, Lin Manuel Miranda, and Perry Gillman. It may have actually bothered Colin more than it bothered Stephen that The Gerber Agency wasn’t asked to cast Elizabeth.
Courtney slid in next to me. “Ignore Colin, he’s super grouchy today. He really does hate Cats.”
“I ask again, how can you hate Cats and do what we do?”
“You got me. So,” she said leaning in closer, “we haven’t had much of a chance to talk since you got back. How are you?”
“Better than the last time we talked that’s for sure. More importantly though, how are you doing? Was Stephen totally impossible while I was gone?”
“He was typical Stephen. He was worried about you though. Kept asking people on the team if you’d been in touch at all.”
I shook my head. “I’ve worked for him for a long time.”
“What? Like eight or nine years, right?”
“It’ll be ten years this October if you count from the time I started interning.”
“You were a legend at NYU, you know? The girl who started as Stephen Gerber’s intern and became his right-hand man…woman. You know what I mean.”
“I didn’t know you went to Tisch?” I said.
“Musical Theater major, same as you,” she said proudly.
“Do you miss it at all? Acting, I mean?”
“God no. I love the theater but wasn’t cut out for a life of rejections and waiting tables. What about you? Do you miss acting?”
Just as I was about to answer, Colin came down the aisle clapping his hands together. “Okay, everyone let’s take our seats, Stephen wants to get started.”
The theater lights dimmed, and Diana stepped forward to the middle of the stage. For her first song she performed “As If We Never Said Goodbye” from the musical Sunset Boulevard. It was well executed, well sung, and well received, but it was also completely safe. Diana had a similar look and mannerisms to Betty Buckley who originated the role of Grizabella in the original Broadway production of Cats. If the producers were looking for the sure bet, Diana was their girl.
The next two actresses were very talented, but I immediately could see Stephen had a strategy when he decided the lineup, hoping to create a stark contrast between the two bookend performers. After they finished their songs, Stephen thanked them for their time and sent them to the wings.
“Next up our final candidate, Lena Moore,” Colin announced.
Lena took two long strides to the middle spotlight. She nodded her head towards the accompanist who plunked out the first few notes of “Maybe This Time” from Cabaret. In the song, the character Sally sings of her hope that, against all odds, this time her love affair is going to last, and Lena absolutely killed it. I’m not sure if she was harnessing emotions from her own life and recent struggles with Sam or really was just that good of an actress, but she had the whole room anticipating every word, every turn of phrase.
When the song ended, the accompanist seamlessly transitioned into the haunting first notes of “Memory.” Lena didn’t plow into the song like the other actresses, but instead let the melody and lyrics be a slow build. When she got to the song’s famous crescendo, her voice shot out across the audience like a firework in D-flat major.
As the reverberation of her final notes settled into the space, Stephen stood up from his seat and asked the four actresses to line up across the front of the stage.
“Ladies, thank you for a wonderful showcase. You’re free to go. We’ll be in touch with your agents in the next few days,” he said.
After the performers retreated to the wings, Stephen huddled the team together. “I’m sure we could all use a break. Let’s meet back at the office in an hour for deliberations with the production team. Jo, can you confirm the address with them?”
“Sure, Stephen.”
“And on your way up to the office…”
“A caramel Macchiato, I know.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I walked the long hallway of dressing rooms backstage at the Shubert and found Lena in the last one taking her makeup off in front of a huge lighted mirror. I rubbed my arms which prickled with goosebumps and knocked gently on the door. The backstage areas of these old theaters were notoriously freezing.
“Come in,” Lena called behind her, “although technically it’s not my dressing room so not sure you even need permission,” she joked.
I entered the dressing room and slid onto a small beaten up black leather couch. “Well, at least not yet anyway.”
I caught the smallest hint of a smile in the mirror’s reflection as she set down her makeup pads and turned around to face me.
“I’m glad you’re here, Joanna. I’ve desperately wanted to talk to you but wasn’t sure what the right protocol was,” Lena said.
“Unfortunately, I don’t think there is a right protocol for this situation.”
She nodded in understanding and walked over to join me on the couch.
“You’ve really improved quite a bit since your last audition, your interpretations were spot on,” I said.
“For good or bad, I’ve lived a bit of life these last few weeks. I connected with the material in a different way than I did before.”
“I ran into Sam at the Union Square Farmers Market the other day. He told me that you two ended things.” I said.
“I loved him. I really did. But he lied to me and to you. In my world, there’s no coming back from that kind of dishonesty.” She settled more deeply into the couch cushions, folding her long dancer’s legs underneath her. “Joanna, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, of course you can.”
“Sam said the last few years your relationship was pretty rocky.”
I cleared my throat. “That’s a pretty fair characterization.”
She hesitated with the next question, pausing for a moment before asking it. “And that the engagement was a final effort to put things on the right course?”
“I think we both were looking for a clean slate. The engagement felt like that, for a short time anyway.”
Like me, I could see she was trying to make some sense out of their relationship, struggling to come to terms with who Sam really was and how she could have so badly misread the situation and her heart. I licked my lips and swallowed hard. “If what you’re asking me is if I think Sam is a terrible person. I don’t. He was a wonderful and loyal boyfriend to me for a very long time.”
“I can only imagine it hurt all the more to find out about us?”
“I can’t forgive Sam’s lies and deception, but it wouldn’t be honest of me to say in my own way, I didn’t do my share of lying and deceiving too.”
“Thank you for being so candid.”
“It was important for me to make sure you know that whatever happens with this audition, I’ll be recommending you for the role of Grizabella. The producers and creative team make the final decision but, Stephen’s opinion factors heavily into those conversations. I just needed you to know our strange history won’t play in any role in how this all ultimately lands.”
“I appreciate you saying all of that. I’m trying so hard not to let myself believe this could all really be happening. I’ve lost out on so many roles and opportunities these last few years. If you looked up the term struggling actress in the dictionary, you’d for sure find my face there.”
“I know the feeling.”
Lena wiped her eyes with the back of her hand “You’re an actress?”
“I was trying to be, that is before I became Stephen’s step and fetch it girl.”
“For what it’s worth, everyone’s told me yours is the only opinion that matters to him.”
> “That’s nice to hear.” I stood up from the couch. “I should get going, we’re meeting up at the office to deliberate. Good luck Lena, with everything.”
I placed Stephen’s macchiato on a coaster and took my usual seat beside him at the long glass table. Colin pinned the four actress’s headshots to the cork bulletin board and buzzed the receptionist to let her know we were ready to get started. Minutes later the rest of our team along with the producers and creatives filed inside the conference room.
“I appreciate everyone sticking around. You know how I like to work. I think it’s best to discuss the auditions right away when they are freshest in everyone’s minds.” Stephen stood up and walked over the cork board. “Unless anyone disagrees, I think we can take these two out of the mix,” he said pointing to the two middle headshots. “Certainly, both very talented actresses but not exactly in line with our vision for the role.” He pulled the two photos off the wall and handed them to Colin. “I think we can all agree the decision is down to Diana Conners or Lena Moore? I’d love to hear some general thoughts on their performances today. Let’s start with you Joyce,” Stephen said, giving the floor to Joyce Roberts, a legendary Broadway producer.
“Don’t get me wrong Stephen, Lena was outstanding, but that’s not who audiences are expecting to see belt out “Memory”. Grizabella the Glamour Cat has lived life. The actress playing her needs to be washed up--defeated almost. Life has to have kicked her around a bit.”
“And a younger woman can’t feel that way?” Stephen asked.
“If I can interject here, I think there’s something even more powerful, more compelling in the idea that a younger woman’s given up on life before she’s really had a chance to live it,” I said.
Joyce raised her eyebrows and nodded in understanding.
“It’s a much fresher take on the role,” Stephen said.
Joyce scanned down Lena’s resume. “And this Lena Moore, can she really pull off a headlining role eight shows a week? She’s doesn’t have nearly the same name recognition or audience draw Diana does.”
“Her audition was far and away the strongest of the four. Even moved Colin to tears.” I rose from my seat. “With all due respect, Diana Conners wasn’t always Diana Conners, I think Lena’s worth taking a chance on. She’s hungry and knows this is her shot. She won’t let us down.”
Joyce looked around at the other producers and members of the creative team who were nodding in agreement.
“Okay Stephen, it looks as though you got your way…again,” Joyce teased. “After the contract’s signed we’ll make the announcements to the relevant press. Maybe we can even knock Elizabeth off the front pages for a few days.”
“I’d love nothing more,” Stephen replied with a wicked smile.
After the meeting, everyone went out to celebrate at Sardi’s, a Gerber Agency tradition when we finished casting a show. I stayed behind to finish up the last of my backlog of emails before going down to join them.
Stephen had also stayed behind to make the offer to Lena’s agent. I always loved that about him. When Stephen had good news to share, he didn’t waste a second in sharing it. Tonight, Lena’s world would change forever, and I felt sad. I’d help cast hundreds of actors and actresses in shows but this one felt different. I was of course thrilled for her, I’d championed Lena for this part but for some reason tonight, those pangs of jealousy and regret I could usually squash, were right at the surface.
I scrolled through my inbox opening up the last few emails in the queue when my eyes settled on a message from [email protected]. I clicked the note open.
Dear Joanna,
I hope this email finds you well. I shared your contact information with Noah Harris and Olivia Stowe our Romeo and Juliet, and they will be reaching out to you to schedule meetings in New York. I wanted to personally thank you again for providing them with this incredible opportunity.
Yours,
Gerald Mason, Artistic Director of the Topsail Little Theater.
PS. It’s never too late. Auditions for Twelfth Night begin a week from Saturday.
I reread the email at least three more times and sank back into my chair. Stephen knocked softly on my office door, a light brown trench coat folded over his right arm.
“Ready to head downstairs?” he asked.
“Do you actually have a second we can talk?”
He set his coat down and took a seat. “For you, all the time in the world. What’s going on?”
I closed my laptop and looked up and into his eyes. “I wanted to thank you for stepping in when you did. I was in a pretty bad place after my breakup with Sam. Really, if I’m being honest, I should thank you for all the times you’ve stepped in over the years.”
Stephen nodded and shifted uncomfortably. Sentimentality was never really his thing.
“I was what, 19 when I started interning for you? I never expected to still be here 10 years later.”
He folded his arms into his lap and rubbed the soft stubble of his beard. “You’re an integral member of my team, and I hope you’ve realized by now it has nothing to do with the fact you know how I like my coffee.”
“I do know that, and you’ll never know how grateful I am to you for all the opportunities you’ve given me, I’m not sure I always deserved them.”
“You’re a good kid, Jo.” He said without the slightest trace of condescension. In his eyes I was still that fresh-faced kid who hung on his every word, showing up with his coffee and breakfast before he’d even asked for it.
“That’s the thing Stephen, I’m not a kid. I’ll be 30 in a few months, and I’m starting to wonder if my window’s closing. I miss acting. I gave it up for all the wrong reasons. I know I may end up regretting this decision, but I think I have to give it one last try.”
His eyes narrowed. “Jo, are you handing in your notice?”
I shook my head. “I think I am.”
Stephen slumped back in his seat like he’d literally been hit with a ton of bricks. “I’m not sure I saw this one coming.”
“Stephen, please understand, I can’t keep watching people doing the thing I love to do and go on pretending it doesn’t bother me I’m not the one up on the stage doing it.”
“I do understand of course, I understand, and I won’t hold you back. But you know better than anyone, it can be a tough go filled with rejection and disappointments. Are you strong enough to go down that road?”
“I regret so many decisions in my life, things I don’t have the power to change. With this one thing, I do, and I think I owe it to myself to try.”
He pressed his lips together into the smallest suggestion of a smile. “Then, I wish you all the luck and success in the world.”
My throat tightened along with my chest. Hot tears sprung to my eyes. “Thank you, Stephen.”
He opened up his arms and pulled me in for a big bear hug. “Let’s go downstairs and join everyone to toast our new Grizabella and more importantly, to your new adventure.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I gave my name at the reception desk and waited for my name to be called. All around me, brides and their excited entourages were flipping through magazines and comparing photos from their iPhones. One of the consultants stepped into the waiting area and called out my name. I jumped up to meet her.
“I’m Christine, I’ll bring you downstairs to meet with Regan,” she said in a somewhat hushed tone.
While the salon offered the services of a Wedding Unwinder, it was clear they weren’t looking to advertise the function too loudly, especially in front of blissfully happy brides about to drop thousands of dollars on their dream dress. I nodded and followed Christine down to the small office on the lower level of the shop with tranquil sky-blue walls and deep-seated light grey velvet couch. Enya’s Only Time was still humming out of the ceiling speaker, and I had to wonder how many other never-to-be brides had sat in this same spot since I was last here a little over six weeks ago.
A few mi
nutes later Regan appeared, the same loose bun, simple white button-down shirt, classic strand of pearls, slim trousers, and tasteful kitten heels. “Joanna,” she gushed. “Wonderful to see you again.” She gave me a welcoming kiss on each cheek before offering me a cup of tea.
I waved my hand. “No, thank you.”
“I hope you don’t mind if I pour myself some? It’s been one of those mornings. So, tell me, how was Topsail and the Boot Camp? I’m so pleased you decided to go.”
“It was wonderful, exactly how you described it.”
“How amazing is that property? The surfing? The yoga? The chef?”
My head shot up. “The chef?”
“I never ate so well in my life. Did you know he used to be the chef at Ma Belle Ferme, the famous LA eatery?”
“Yeah, I think I heard that.”
“Seems a shame more people don’t get to experience his cooking now that the restaurant’s closed, but it’s certainly a draw for the Retreat House that he stays on. Anyway, more importantly, how are you feeling these days?”
“A lot better than the last time I was here.”
She smiled warmly. “I’m so glad. So, I assume you’re back because you’ve come to a decision about the wedding dress?”
“I have.”
Regan stood up to retrieve the manila folder holding all the dress receipts and details. “Let’s see here,” she said flipping through the paperwork, “you purchased a Georgica Goldstein blush organza gown with full tulle skirt, antique silver beading embellishments, cap sleeves, fitted bodice and open back.”
“That’s right, “I said, confirming her statement.
She pulled the garment bag with the dress out of the room’s closet and hung it on a clothing rack. “It was a sample gown, and you received our trunk show discount so in total you paid $18,500 not counting the alterations.”
The number sounded insane to me now. It was practically all the money I had in my savings yet somehow, I justified the cost in my mad pursuit of the perfect wedding.
