Authors: Wendy Byrne
But he was a businessman first. He would always do what was best for the show at any cost. Unless, of course, the cost was related to his daughter, Anne. That focus was how he'd consistently eked out the best show possible for the last thirteen years. There was no luck in one of his shows, only hard work and precision.
His merciless grandmother had taken every opportunity to drill into him the axiom that God was in the details, and somehow, over the years, the details had become his religion. Off the top of his memory, he could not recall seeing a more proficient tapper at a line audition. If Fielding French continued to hold up under the pressure, he would cast her.
Sara and his staff were sorting through the cards, and eventually the papers came back to him in two piles. He glanced at the smaller pile and saw that the three names there were his choices as well. Trust his well-trained staff to know what was best; yet he was still incapable of turning control over to them. He didn't even wait for the routine to finish. He'd been doing this for twenty years and had refined the process to an art. "Number twenty-three, you in the pink leotard, and you, sir, you may stay. The rest of you may go."
He turned his attention away from the stage and the compelling visual lure of Fielding Amanda French. He listened with only half an ear to Sara telling their three choices to come back for the singing audition in the afternoon before she called the next group. As he watched the new dancers he couldn't shake the feeling that he was going to be exceptionally sorry he'd told the French girl to come back. And after all of his mistakes, he'd become very good at knowing when he was going to be sorry. Very good, indeed.
AWAKEN THE DEVIL