Showbiz, A Novel (28 page)

             
He got a new laptop up and running after his other one was stolen by Margolies’ goons. That distracted him for a day or so, but now he was faced with a blank page and a flashing curser where his pivotal
Swan Song
review was supposed to materialize.

             
After a day of pacing around his apartment, he’d taken to the streets, walking what felt like the entire length of Manhattan. The following day, he’d searched the web for cheap islands he could retire to at a moment’s notice with his meager savings. He felt foolish. But it didn’t seem all that far-fetched, considering his situation if things didn’t go as planned.

             
It didn’t help that he had no one to talk to about his circumstances, his entire career on the line in epic make-or-break proportions. He thought about calling a shrink but didn’t know where to start. And anyway, the information was too sensitive.

             
He called Scarlett for the hundredth time. “Scarlett, I
really
need to talk to you. Please call me back. I need you.” He knew his messages were getting more and more pathetic and desperate. At that moment, she was probably getting ready to head to
Swan Song
’s opening night. His head hurt.

             
He glanced at the
Swan Song
ticket on the table. He had been expected at the final preview the previous night to evaluate it for his official review, but he hadn’t even considered showing up. He couldn’t face Scarlett in a public place and risk everything being exposed before things worked out. He had called Scarlett to tell her he wouldn’t be there, but of course she hadn’t answered. He’d already seen the show; not making an appearance wouldn’t impact his ability to write the review.

             
He knew the
Banner
would be expecting his review to be submitted that day. They’d be scrambling to make their next day post-opening night print and online publishing deadline.

             
He sat down to write the review that would seal his fate one way or another, but he was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. He scrambled to pick it up, sure that it was Scarlett, finally throwing him a bone. But the number wasn’t one he immediately recognized.

             
“Hello?” he said.

             
“Hello, Reilly.” Reilly swallowed hard.

             
“Hello, sir.” It was Margolies.

             
“It’s come to my attention that you didn’t show up at
Swan Song
last night. Are we going to have a problem?”

             
Reilly sat down hard on the couch. “Uh...no. No problem. I saw it last weekend with...” He stopped himself from almost mentioning Scarlett.

             
“I see,” Margolies said, softly. “So you’ve had nearly a whole week to write your review and, yet, Candace told me that you haven’t turned one in yet.”

             
So Candace had been talking to Margolies. What did that mean about their plan? Had she changed her mind? Had Margolies somehow talked her out of it? He hoped she was still playing along. The uncertainty was maddening.

             
“I’m working on it right now.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. “My computer was stolen last week,” he added with the slightest hint of an accusation. “I’ll get the review to Candace soon.”

             
“That’s what I wanted to hear. I would hate to think that you had changed your mind,” said Margolies, menacingly.

             
“Of course not, sir,” Reilly said.

             
“Good boy. Oh, and Reilly...”

             
“Yes?”

             
“You look good with a beard.” The line went dead.

             
Reilly’s blood ran cold. How did Margolies know that he hadn’t bothered to shave in almost a week? Reilly dashed over to the window and violently pulled down the blinds. What the hell have I gotten myself into? he thought for the thousandth time. Is this what Kanter had to deal with? The thought horrified him.

             
His adrenaline pumping, he sat down at the computer and began to write. The words came easily. He had been practicing writing reviews for weeks, after all, until things had gone south. He knew how to frame the review. He knew what the readers would want to hear, how to get the right pull quotes for the producers—Scarlett!—and how to keep them all reading to the end.

             
In less than an hour, the formerly blank screen was populated from top to bottom with words about
Swan Song
. He read it over only once for last-minute typos, opened his email, and sent it to Candace. The second he hit “send,” he crumpled to the floor. It was out of his hands. He stayed there, face down, spread eagled, both relieved and petrified about what he’d just done.

             
The good news is, he thought, I’ve done everything I can to make things right. The bad news is, he had absolutely no idea what would happen to him next.

Scene 43

             
Scarlett adjusted her short, red strapless cocktail dress as she stepped out of the limo in front of the theater. She was flattered to see heads turn in appreciation as she stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the Manhattan Theatre Workshop. Despite the recent turn of events, Lawrence had insisted that they stick to their original plans for opening night, which included arriving in style at the theater.

             
Lawrence and the Jeremys were right behind her, piling out of the car, looking equally elegant in their suits. They made their way into the lobby, which was already crowded with many of their friends as well as several important patrons of the theater. A glittering opening-night crowd, everyone was in great spirits. Scarlett pushed through the lobby to check in with the artistic director. On her way, she overheard Broadway buzz about their show from numerous patrons.

             
She wondered for a second where Reilly’s review was at that moment. Were his lethal words being run through the presses? It was common for reviews to appear online the same night as opening. She hadn’t decided whether she’d look for it that night. Probably not. She wanted to enjoy one last night of glory before all their dreams came officially crashing down.

             
As patrons filed into the theater and took their seats, Scarlett remained standing at the back corner of the theater, where she could take in the audience and the stage. She could feel the positive energy and electric vibe pulsing in the room. The people knew they were in for a treat.

             
“You did good, Gorgeous,” Lawrence whispered into her ear, standing beside her in the shadowy corner.

             
She squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Lawrence. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. I’d probably be at home right now with my head in the oven.”

             
“You don’t have an oven,” he said.

             
“Good point. I’ve never thought of that as a plus before,” she said, smiling at Lawrence before turning back to gaze out over the crowd.

             
“Look at them,” Scarlett said. They both looked down at the Jeremys, who were whispering to each other from their seats, third row center. “I love those guys.”

             
“They’re the best,” Lawrence said. “They deserve success with this show. As do you, Gorgeous.”

             
“We’ll see,” she said, letting go of his hand. “Even if we can pull off your harebrained plan, it might be too late for
Swan Song
.”

             
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he said with a twinkle in his eye as the houselights went down, indicating the show was about to start. “We’re changing history,” he whispered. “There’s no telling what may happen.”

             
Scarlett and Lawrence stood side by side, watching the show for the entire evening. The opening-night party went by in a blur of champagne and compliments. Positive reviews in smaller publications had already started to come out, and the potential of a Broadway transfer was the talk of the evening, despite the conspicuous silence from the
Banner
. Scarlett had a great time; only in the limo on the way home did she allow herself to think about the review.

             
They dropped the Jeremys off at home first.

             
“No matter what happens,” Scarlett said, hugging them goodbye, “you guys have shown the world that your talent is not to be ignored!”

             
“We love you, Scarlett!” Jersey Jeremy said, giddy from the evening’s success and drunk from the festivities.

             
“To us!” Buff Jeremy said, raising the half-full champagne bottle he clutched in his hand.

             
“Do we need to get you guys into bed?” Lawrence asked, laughing as champagne splashed on the Jeremys as they staggered happily to the door of their building.

             
“We could ask you two the same thing!” Jersey Jeremy said with a devilish wink as they disappeared inside.

             
“They make a good point,” Lawrence said, raising his eyebrows at Scarlett. “Shall we make a night of it? It’s been ages since you’ve stayed over at my place.”

             
Scarlett smiled, remembering how much fun she used to have with happy-go-lucky, no-strings-attached Lawrence—before Reilly appeared in her life. How did my life get so complicated so quickly? she wondered. “It’s tempting. But I don’t think it’s a good idea, Lawrence. We’re working together now.”

             
“That never stopped us before,” Lawrence said with a wicked grin.

             
“It’s different now,” she said with exasperation, then her tone became more serious. “And anyway, look what my last relationship did for my career. If that’s not my cue to take a break from men for a while, I don’t know what is.”

             
“Just know I’m here, if the rebound mood strikes you,” he said, stretching out his legs in the back of the limo.

             
“That’s very generous of you,” she said, smiling.

             
“I’m a generous guy.” He smiled back.

             
At that moment, she just wanted to get out of her party dress, into her PJs, and sleep until the next day’s inevitable disappointments for the theater and the cast had blown over. She hated to think how devastated everyone would be. At least the four of them had had time to brace themselves…not that that had really helped, but it was better than nothing.

             
Suddenly morbid curiosity got the better of her, and she couldn’t resist knowing what the review said any longer—particularly when she realized that, without a computer, she wouldn’t be able to check the online reviews when she got home.

             
“I don’t suppose you’ve checked the reviews?” she asked Lawrence.

             
“I’ll admit I’ve been keeping an eye on them all night. Really positive stuff from just about everyone.” He pulled out his fancy phone. It was an even newer model than the one she’d seen him with just a few days before. He really was a tech nerd. “
The
Wall Street Journal
could have been nicer, but that’s no surprise. Their reviewer hates musicals.”

             
“No one cares what he has to say, anyway,” Scarlett said. “Is that a new phone?”

             
“Yep. Pretty cool, huh?” He held it toward her so she could see the screen.

             
“What did you do with your old one?”

             
“Nothing. Why, do you want it?”

             
“Maybe I could borrow it? I don’t have a laptop anymore, and the internet is slow on my ancient phone.”

             
“Sure, but if you need a computer, I can just hook you up with a laptop. I might have ten or twelve to spare,” he said, ruefully.

             
“I’d love to borrow one, if you don’t mind.”

             
“Done,” he said, and his attention became absorbed in something on his device. “Well, I’ve been checking the reviews all night, and there are some great ones, of course…but still nothing from the
Banner
.”

             
“That’s strange,” she said. It was nearly 2:00 a.m. and the
Banner
’s
online review should have been out.

             
“I guess the suspense continues,” he said as the limo pulled up in front of her apartment building.

             
“Do you want to come back to my place and get the laptop now, so you have it for the weekend?” he said, in a last valiant effort to get her to come home with him.