Showbiz, A Novel (22 page)

             
Scarlett poked her head in the door. “Sir?”

             
“Come in,” Margolies said, not looking up. He was thumbing through a pile of papers that he had spread out across the narrow makeup table. After walking down the dim hallway, the bright round bulbs that surrounded the large mirror made Scarlett squint.
             

             
“Shut the door,” he continued.

             
She complied and stood awkwardly with her back to the door, not sure where she should stand. A rack of costumes lined one wall of the tiny room. That particular dressing room was small, meant for one person and maybe a dressing assistant. Margolies filled the space physically and emotionally.

             
Without turning around, he finally raised his eyes and met hers in the mirror. She realized it was the first time in weeks that she’d been alone with him. He spoke slowly and deliberately. “So, it looks like you have a hit on your hands?”

             
“We certainly do!” she said, too brightly. “
Olympus
is going to take Broadway by storm.” She realized too late that she was quoting the slogan that the advertising firm had created for the show. It had been the first thing to come into her mind, which was reeling under his withering gaze, reflected in the mirror.

             
“Not
our
show.
Your
show
.”

             
For a second she didn’t know what he was talking about. Then she realized he meant her own show.

             
“Oh, you mean
Swan Song
?”

             
His eyes drilled into hers, unblinking.

             
“Um...” she continued. “I guess it’s going well. Remember, I told you about it several months ago when I first found it. You weren’t interested, so I decided to take it on. You said you didn’t mind. It’s not interfering with work at all...” She trailed off. She had been babbling.

             
“Do I get to see this little project of yours?”

             
“I’d love that. We’re in tech, but if you want to come this week, or for a preview, just let me know and I’ll get you a comp.” She felt surprised that he was interested in her show but flattered all the same.

             
“Thanks for the invitation,” he said sarcastically.

             
“Sure,” she said, unsure about what was going on. Was that why he needed to see her?

             
“Of course, you’re wasting your time.”

             
“Sir?” she said.

             
“You’re little piece-of-crap show downtown has no chance,” he said, his voice dripping with anger. “Just because you’ve watched me work for four years doesn’t mean you can play with the big boys. Just remember that.”

             
“Okay...” She could feel her face getting red.

             
“I need you to focus on your
job
right now!” he said.

             
“I am!” said Scarlett defensively.

             
“Not possible. Between your little show and your little boyfriend...” He paused. “How can I count on you?”

             
“I’ve done everything you’ve told me to do,” she said.

             
“It’s not
what
you’re doing that I’m worried about. It’s
who
you’re doing,” he leered.

             
“What are you talking about?” she said. It was completely inappropriate.

             
She couldn’t control her temper anymore. After four years of tireless work, she didn’t deserve this, even from him.

             
“Well, then, I need to know what’s going on, too!” She stood up and faced him. “What is M____ Corporation, and why have I never heard of them, even though they’ve apparently given us $9 million! And who is that guy who doesn’t leave your side but who you never introduce to anyone?”

             
He stood up, knocking over his chair, and spun to face her. “What do you know about that?”

             
“I know that I can’t do my job if I don’t know what’s going on around here anymore.” She couldn’t believe she had just talked to him that way. Then again, if her job was already on the line, she figured she didn’t have all that much to lose.

             
“M____ Corporation is none of your business. I’ll pretend I didn't hear that from you, for your sake…and your safety, I might add. You better keep your mouth shut. You have no idea what you’re dealing with. Am I making myself clear?” He took a step toward her.

             
“I understand,” she said, craning her neck to meet his eyes. He was scaring her, but she’d seen his temper before.

             
“Or have you already told someone? Perhaps I should have a talk with your boyfriend.”

             
“I don’t know what you mean.”

             
“I really thought I could trust you, Scarlett.”

             
“You can, sir.” Did he know about the bank statements? She felt a pang of guilt to add to her fear.

             
“Unfortunately, it seems that I can’t. You’re fired,” he said, then turned away abruptly.

             
“I’m fired?”

             
Her mind went blank. She knew things had gotten tense, but she hadn’t expected that. Her mind raced. “But what about
Olympus
? I’m in the middle of several projects,” she stammered.

             
“You can be replaced,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “I’ll have someone escort you to the office to collect your things. Now.”

             
He turned toward her, and she moved away from the door so he could open it. He gestured to his goon who was hovering, as always.

             
“Take Scarlett back to the office and make sure she gets
home
.”

             
She followed the silent goon across the street, up the elevator, and into the office. She didn’t have much there. A few photos and a souvenir coffee mug from
Sweet Charity
,
which she didn’t bother to take. The rest she slid into her purse. She eyed the laptop. It belonged to Margolies. She’d be computer-less for a while without it…not to mention without an income.

             
Her escort didn’t say a word as they returned to the elevator. She was in shock. She felt emotionally empty. It was so unexpected! She remembered that Margolies had asked the creep to take her home. But the last thing she wanted was to show him where she lived, although he could probably find out. Better not to try it.

             
She ducked into Sardi’s and he didn’t follow. She made her way up to the second-floor bar and sank into a bench seat along the wall, not wanting to see anyone. She needed to think. To sort through the wave of mixed emotions flashing through her mind faster than she could deal with them.

             
She buried her face in her hands and took a series of deep breaths. She’d been fired! His words were echoing through her brain. She didn’t know how, but she’d get through it. She knew she’d need to find a way. She’d come too far and worked too hard to have all her dreams come crashing down.

Scene 36

             
Margolies leaned back in his chair and looked out the hotel window. His glance was greeted with a view of unobstructed sky. He had purposely picked as isolated a hotel room as he could find. He had chosen the out-of-the way hotel for his meeting with Candace and Reilly for two reasons: First and most important, no one would know of their meeting; second, it gave just enough menacing ambience to accentuate his point.

             
He was looking forward to the meeting. For the first time in months, things were starting to look up. He was feeling like he was regaining some control.

             
Olympus
was coming together. Although the intern’s best efforts couldn’t hold a candle to Scarlett’s, he and the production crew were picking up the slack of her departure. He should never have trusted her. Too ambitious.

             
At least she’d learn her lesson soon, thought Margolies. She needed to see how the world—
his
world—really worked, sooner or later. He might even be doing her a favor by giving her a much-needed reality check.

             
He heard a card key in the door. Candace walked in wearing a trench coat and sunglasses.

             
“I see you came in costume,” he said, eyeing her outfit.

             
“Shut up,” she snapped. “There’s a reason people dress like this. I didn’t want to be seen. I don’t even want to be here.”

             
“What? You’d miss all this?” He gestured around the unimpressive room. He’d booked a suite so they could meet around a table.

             
“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you? Very cloak and dagger. This isn’t one of your musicals, you know,” she said, making a bee line to the mini bar.

             
“It’s 11:00 a.m., Candace.”

             
She ignored him, removed several of the tiny bottles, and set them on the round table in front of the chair she’d claimed next to Margolies. He’d need to remember to settle up the additional bill after they’d left, since he’d paid for the room in cash.

             
They both turned when they heard a knock on the door.

             
“It’s show time,” said Margolies, standing up and smoothing his black suit. If there was one thing he’d learned early, it was that intimidation was all about putting on a show, and at that, he was the best.

             
He paused before opening the door, guessing Reilly would be quaking in his boots on the other side. After a beat, he swung open the door dramatically. Sure enough, he was greeted by a wide-eyed Reilly.

             
“Come in,” Margolies said grandly.

             
“Thanks,” Reilly said, walking into the room stiffly.

             
“Have a seat.” Margolies saw Reilly square his shoulders as he sat down, clearly trying to steel himself for their “business dealings.” Candace was already on her second baby bottle of booze. She’s not wasting any time, thought Margolies.

             
“Drink?” she offered.

             
“Uh...no,” Reilly replied, probably surprised, as most people would be, by the offer at that hour of the morning.

             
“Shall we cut to the chase?” Margolies
said
, taking his seat and leaning toward Reilly.

             
Reilly shrank back in his chair then corrected himself and leaned forward to meet Margolies’ gaze.

             
“My business was with Candace. It seems you’re involved as well,” Reilly
said
.

             
“Don’t bullshit me. You knew I was involved. I intend to find out how you knew, but we’ll get to that later,” Margolies
said
. “It seems that you intend to blackmail Candace and me in order to secure the position of chief critic. Do I understand that correctly?”

             
Reilly nodded. Margolies could see beads of sweat on his temples. This is fun, thought Margolies. Candace went to open a third bottle, and Margolies reached out his hand to stop her. He didn’t need a drunk Candace straying from the script that day.

             
“I’ll start by saying that we’re not entirely opposed to that idea.” He gauged the look on Reilly’s face. A glimmer of hope, perhaps. Maybe relief.

             
“It seems only fair, however, that you do something for us.”

             
“What did you have in mind?” Reilly
asked
.

             
“I’ll tell you. But first, I need to know that you’re really serious about this job.”

             
“I am dead serious,” Reilly
said
, swallowing hard.

             
“That’s good, because it’s very important to me who gets this job.”

             
“I’m not going to take bribes from you, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Reilly said in a rush of words.