Showbiz, A Novel (20 page)

             
It had been the toughest two weeks of her life at work. Luckily, a couple of late night dinners with Reilly—when she could get away from the theater—as well as constant update texts from the Jeremys and Lawrence, who were deep in rehearsals downtown, were getting her through.

             
“Doughnut?” the intern
whispered
, coming down the aisle of the theater. He squeezed into the theater seat next to her. She had to give the kid credit, though he really should lay off the doughnuts. He’d been tireless in the past couple of weeks, bringing her food, apprising her of Margolies’ whereabouts, making her laugh when things got particularly stressful. Maybe the intern would do okay after all.

             
“No, thanks.”

             
“Is it alright if I head home? It’s after ten,” he said.

             
“Oh!” Time went by so quickly. “Sure, of course. I had no idea it was so late.”

             
“That’s okay. I had a lot to do at the office,” he said. She’d been dumping work off on him like it was going out of style. “You were the one who was here all weekend.”

             
“Look, I really appreciate everything you’re doing. You really are a lifesaver.”

             
The intern had pretty much taken the reigns of the extensive press and marketing activities, in partnership with the ad agency. In true Margolies style, the boss was keeping a close eye on everything that was being done, but the extensive day-to-day management that usually fell to Scarlett had landed squarely on the interns shoulders.

             
The intern craned his head to look at the remote-controlled flying contraption that now held Cupid’s understudy. Cupid had left hours before to make an appearance at some glamorous party. The remote-control technology they were pioneering was almost perfect. And the effect was breathtaking.

             
“We’re making history here, right?” the intern
said
with a sense of awe. “I’m just glad to be part of it. Are you sure you don’t want a doughnut?”

             
“I’m sure.” She was grateful that she wasn’t a stress eater. At times like those, she had to force herself to remember to eat anything at all. At least all the drama was good for her waist line. “Did you close up the office?”

             
“The boss is still there.”

             
“I thought he left for the night.”

             
“Nope. Been there all evening. Looked like he was having some meetings.”

             
“With whom? Everyone’s here,” Scarlett
said
, gesturing around to all the designers, actors, and directors who were scurrying around the darkened theater. At that moment, they were busy resetting the stage to re-rehearse the scene they had just run ten times already. It was the tricky Act One finale. All the gods took flight while Cupid, as Zeus, had his triumphant Act One finale song, a spotlight-lit rock-and-roll crowd pleaser sung from the flying contraption above the audience. They had almost gotten it right. The next day they’d rehearse the rain scene with the lightning pyrotechnics. It felt more like what Scarlett imagined a movie set would feel like, rather than a Broadway show. But there was no doubt that they were blazing new territory. Audiences would be wowed, that was for sure.

             
“I think they were money people,” the intern
said
in answer to her question, licking powdered sugar off his fingers. “Not sure, since they kept the door closed. One of them was that guy who’s been hanging around a lot. I’ve never caught his name. Black hair. Fancy suite. Kinda creepy.”

             
Why did the hair on the back of Scarlett’s neck stand up every time she saw or thought about that guy? “Sure. I know the one.” Not wanting to share her discomfort with the intern, she pasted on a smile.

             
“Well, I guess that’s it for the night,” she said, giving him permission to go home. During the conversation, he had finished off the doughnuts he had brought for her.

             
“How much longer are you sticking around?” he asked her.

             
Now it was her turn to take in her surroundings. Rehearsal was still in full swing. “It’ll be a while.” She had been hoping to see Reilly, but the night was ticking away. Ah, well. The show started previews in three days.

Scene 33

             
“Do you really need me here tonight?” Reilly asked Scarlett as they walked arm in arm out the door of his building, huddled together under an umbrella. They were on their way to a dinner party at the Jeremys’ apartment in Chelsea. Scarlett was thrilled to have a night off, but Reilly seemed jumpy and irritable. He’d been distant all week.

             
“Yes! Everyone’s dying to get to know you,” she said, squeezing his arm and giving him an encouraging smile. She was eager for her good mood to rub off on him.

             
“Do you think it was a good idea to tell all of them about us?” Reilly
asked
, frowning.

             
“It would have to come out sooner or later. And, anyway, that’s one bonus of you losing your job. At least I’m not dating New York’s nastiest gossip columnist.”

             
“Don’t rub it in.”

             
“I meant it as a compliment.” Scarlett kissed his cheek as they made their way through Times Square, the umbrella only keeping them somewhat dry. “And, anyway, you’ll soon be re-employed!”

             
Scarlett could see Reilly trying to muster a smile for her benefit. Clearly his heart wasn’t in it. He claimed he hadn’t been sleeping well. It seemed that losing his columnist job had really shaken his confidence.

             
“Don’t you see how quickly someone can go from being somebody in this town to just another nobody on the streets of New York City?” He gestured to the throngs of tourists brushing by them. The busily flashing Times Square billboards promoting
Mamma Mia
,
Jersey Boys
and
The Lion King
were splashing a collage of colors onto the wet sidewalks.

             
“Oh come on, you saw the review this week! The junior critic blew it,” she said. She was trying so hard to cheer him up. They had dissected the most recent audition review earlier that day on the phone and confirmed that it wasn’t good for the junior critic, but was very good for Reilly.

             
“The world is waiting for you, Reilly.” Scarlett forced Reilly to stop and face her under the umbrella. “I know you’re nervous, but this is everything you've always wanted.” She kissed him on the lips. “Look at us! At the center of the world!” She held her arms out wide.

             
Reilly’s eyes locked on the massive
Olympus
billboard that dominated a two-story high space over her shoulder, dwarfing the
Wicked
and
Phantom of the Opera
ads. Scarlett could see his spirits sinking again. She gently placed her hands on either side of his face and gazed into his eyes. “You are poised to get your dream job, Reilly. And, my show starts previews next week. Let’s enjoy this. How many people get where we are? This is Broadway.”

             
Reilly just stared back at her with a bleak expression. She kissed him again, but there was no passion in his return kiss. She could feel her good mood starting to ebb. She held his gaze for a few moments longer. Her heart was eager to make the relationship work. Their mutual attraction was undeniable. And yet, it had only been a few weeks since they’d met and it felt like they were on a constant emotional rollercoaster.

             
Reilly shivered and pulled his coat around him with one hand, re-angling the umbrella with the other. “I’m sorry, Scarlett. I’m in a weird mood tonight. I don’t want to bring down the group. Why don’t I head home?”

             
“We don’t have to stay long, but you
have
to make an appearance. Please. I promise they’ll all love you as much as I do.” She looked at him pleadingly.

             
Reilly sighed. “Ok. I’m sure you’re right.” He kissed her forehead. “Lead on.” He crooked his elbow for her to take. As they strode through the center of Times Square arm in arm, she desperately hoped that an evening with friends would rehabilitate his mood.

Scene 34

             
They were the last to arrive at the Jeremys, where they were met by a lively group lounging on couches and on the floor of the living room. Scarlett had been looking forward to the evening all week. It had been a while since she’d carved out an entire evening for a non-work related event.

             
“Doth mine eyes deceive me?” Jersey Jeremy
asked
, greeting them at the apartment door with two glasses of wine. “Or is the one and only Reilly Mitchell in my humble abode?”

             
Scarlett cast a wary glance at Reilly. She could see that Jeremy’s flattery was perking him up already.

             
“And I’m chopped liver? Is that any way to greet your producer?” Scarlett teased.

             
“The red carpet is at the dry cleaners,” Jersey Jeremy
said
as he took their coats.

             
Scarlett fished a bottle of wine out of her purse and added it to the other guests’ alcoholic offerings on the kitchen counter, just to the right of the front door. The Jeremys' apartment was three times bigger than Scarlett’s, but that wasn’t saying much. Still, the cozy group of friends that had gathered for the evening fit just fine.

             
“Scarlett, you know everyone here, but have they met Reilly?” Buff Jeremy
asked
, sliding from the couch onto the floor to let Scarlett and Reilly share the small plush loveseat.

             
“We all know you!” said an impeccably dressed young guy in an argyle sweater and jeans.

             
Scarlett made introductions starting there. “Reilly, meet Rob. He does what I do in Erlander’s office.”

             
“Head slave, at your service,” Rob
said
, leaning across the low coffee table laden with fancy cheeses and crackers to shake Reilly’s hand.

             
“This is Mara and her husband David.”

             
“Of course,” Reilly
said
to Mara. “Didn’t you write that Oscar Wilde bio-musical that made it to Broadway last season? It was good!”

             
“Thanks.” Mara beamed.

             
“And David is an entertainment lawyer,” Scarlett
continued
.

             
“Broadway power couple,” Reilly
said
with a wink.

             
Scarlett continued around the room, pointing out the various friendly faces draped over the furniture and on the floor of the living room, ending with Andrew, an up-and-coming independent Broadway producer who, like Scarlett, was hoping to someday be a major player. Lounging on his lap due to lack of any other available surface was his girlfriend Cat, a talented singer/dancer.

             
The group quickly devoured the cheese and crackers and more than a few bottles of wine amid lively conversation and theater gossip. Scarlett stole a look at Reilly, deep in conversation with Andrew, who was regaling him with the sordid details of his current projects. He was probably hoping to get a mention in Reilly’s column, Scarlett thought. No one knew yet that Reilly was no longer at the
Journal
. She was pleased to see him getting along so well with her nearest and dearest friends in New York. They all appeared to be more than willing to accept Reilly into their circle despite his public profile as a snarky columnist.

             
“So, Reilly,” Jersey Jeremy
began
, “when do you get your turn in the
Banner
’s
critic competition?”

             
“I’m last,” Reilly
said
.

             
“They’re clearly saving the best for last,” Scarlett
said
, kissing Reilly on the cheek.

             
“We’ll see,” Reilly
said
modestly.

             
“Any idea what show you’ll be assigned to review?” Buff Jeremy
asked
.

             
“I should find out in the next week or two,” Reilly
said
.