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Authors: Joanne Schwehm

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BOOK: The Critic
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I held the paper and read the words I’d written. I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d seen it yet. All I could imagine was a dart board with my article as the bull’s-eye, Ms. Jordan hurling small spikes at it. When I write a review, I never intend to hurt anyone or be rude. I’m a professional.

My phone rang, interrupting the thoughts of sharp spikes being driven into my words. I’d expected it to be my editor telling me which show I needed to attend when I got back to the city, but it was my mother.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Sweetheart, it’s so good to hear your voice. Your brother told me you’re still in Jersey?”

The surprise in her voice made me second-guess my decision to stay there. “Yeah.”

“Bentley, sweetheart, I read your latest review. That poor girl.” Her voice dripped with sympathy for Ms. Jordan. My mother didn’t exactly appreciate my blunt reviews.

“Mom, it’s my job. Should I have said she was superb and then looked like a fool when people spent their money on my recommendation? You’re the one who taught me to respect the art of acting.”

“Honey, respecting art is one thing, but I also taught you to respect people. How do you think that young lady feels now?”

I felt my mother’s words in my chest. “That review was based on my opinion, which I am paid and respected for. Would you have preferred me to lie and say she was the best thing to grace a stage since Liza Minnelli?” I was getting defensive with my mother, which wasn’t something I normally did, but I felt bad enough. Having the only woman I loved coming down on me wasn’t helpful.

“No. All I’m saying is your opinion could be kinder,” she said.

“Maybe we can agree to disagree because I can’t change who I am. If I’d said that she was wonderful, that wouldn’t help her or the show. When I wanted to play in the father-son golf tournament with Dad, do you remember who played with him?”

“Yes, dear, your brother did.” Her voice relaxed as she sighed.

“And do you remember why?”

“Yes, because your father thought he was better.”

“Right, and did I whine and cry about it?” I asked. “No. I took lessons and became better so the next time, he would pick me—which, if you can remember, he did.” I ran my hand through my hair.

“But—”

“No buts, Mother. This is how you both raised me. I’m trying to help this woman. Honestly, what gives today? I gave my opinion, which you should respect like others do.” I cringed as soon as the words left my lips.

“Bentley David, I am still your mother, and you will not speak to me that way. Now when you get home, please call me so you can voice your very important opinion at our monthly meeting. This quarter’s funding is approaching, and we need to make some decisions. We’re counting on you. Can you be there?”

“Yes, I’ll be there,” I said.

She was the president of the Shooting Stars Theater Guild, a group that prided themselves on funding shows that normally wouldn’t make it to Broadway without their help. The last thing I wanted to do was sit through afternoon tea with the guild, but I knew they’d want me to select the show they helped. Apparently my opinion was needed even though, at that moment, she didn’t appreciate it.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you later. I love you.”

“Love you too, dear.”

I hung up and thought about which show I should select for them. If I had it figured out in advance, I wouldn’t have to stay too long. I picked up a stack of theater programs from recent off-Broadway shows and tried to decide which were best for the guild.

 

 

 

 

 

My shaking legs carried me across the room to Mack’s office. I couldn’t tell if I was actually breathing.

Mack’s door swung open. “Come in, you two.” Mack’s words were curt.

Justin stood and motioned for me to go ahead of him. I swallowed hard and felt as if I were entering the principal’s office to get expelled. I looked at Mack’s desk and saw the
Edge.
The back of my neck grew warm, and I was sure I was going to faint.
Great.
We sat in front of his desk, and I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the paper.

Mack must have noticed where I was staring. “I take it you’ve seen this?”

My head snapped up. “Yes, I saw it.”

Justin’s eyes darted between me and Mack. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Seen what?”

Mack picked up the black-and-white paper and handed it to Justin. “This.”

Justin read the review then stared at me, confused.

I decided I needed to know exactly what was going on. “Mack—”

“Andi, I don’t know why Bentley Chambers was here, but I believe it was because of you,” Mack said. “I know that he has critiqued your work before, and I didn’t agree with him then. I don’t completely agree with him now.”

Wait . . . completely?

“When the stagehand told me he saw Chambers, I didn’t really believe him. But he was here.” Mack shrugged. “Now, you’re probably wondering why I wanted to meet with both of you.”

“Excuse me, Mack.” My voice was unsteady at best. “Did you say completely? You don’t
completely
agree with him?”

“Andi, you know I adore you and think you’re very talented.”

He hadn’t answered my question, but I didn’t dare ask again. I glanced at Justin.

His brows were lowered, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Reviews are reviews, right? I know I’m green in this business, but I can assure you there was passion.” Justin winked, making me smile.

“Well, kids, this is what we’re going to do. Justin, you’re definitely keeping the role of Jake.” Mack turned his attention to me.

His sympathetic brown eyes bore into mine, and my chest heaved at what was coming next.

“Andi, as I said, I adore you, but I have an entire cast and crew depending on this show making it. If we don’t receive the necessary funds, we’ll be done before we start. That’s why you and Lucy will be re-auditioning for the role this week.” His face fell a little at his words, but not enough to mirror mine. I was sure mine was on the floor.

“Mack, I can do this.” My spine stiffened, and my voice somehow was steady.

“If you do retain the role of Katie, make Bentley Chambers physically hard the next time he comes to see the show. According to his editor, he’ll be at our next preview performance.”

My mouth dropped open. I closed it, and my eyes widened. “Pardon me?”

“Sorry for my crassness, but you two need to work together and get this right. This man wants passion, so give it to him. Make him want you.”

His nonchalant tone threw me. All I could do was stare at him. So much for my stiff spine, it was now a wet noodle. Make him hard? It wasn’t a burlesque show. It was a romantic play, for Christ’s sake.

“Mack, I know I can do this. I’ll be better by the end of the week.” I gave the best smile I could muster.

He stood and tossed the
Edge
in the aluminum trash bin. “I know you can, or we wouldn’t have cast you. Do what you need to do, and let’s get together next week. Come prepared. I want you in this role, but I can’t make any promises right now.”

Justin and I stood. Trying to sound confident, I reached for Mack’s hand. “I promise I won’t let you down.” I scurried out of the small office, trying to rein in my nerves and squash my self-doubt. I leaned against the cool cement wall near the exit of the theater and took in a deep breath. I couldn’t believe this was happening. All because of Bentley Chambers.
Who was this guy?
My breathing became shallow, and if I didn’t calm down, I was sure to pass out. Beads of sweat formed on the back of my neck.

Justin stood across from me with one foot propped on the wall. “Andi, are you okay? Why don’t we get together and rehearse.” He hugged me tight. “You’re the best actress I’ve worked with, and you deserve this part.”

Justin had to be just over six feet tall, and in comparison to my five foot four, he towered over me. My cheek rested just under his shoulder, and his soft cotton shirt soothed me. I didn’t want to leave mascara stains on it, so I steadied my resolve.

“Thank you. Let’s get out of here.” I told Justin I’d call him for extra rehearsal time. I didn’t think I could have too much at that point.

I went home and called Gina to tell her the latest and not so greatest news.

“Hey, Andi.”

Just hearing her voice calmed my nerves. Thank God I had her. “Hey, G. Well, Mack met with me and Justin after rehearsal.” I let out a sigh.

“What happened? You don’t sound very good. Do you want me to come over?”

My teeth grabbed my bottom lip. I tried not to burst into tears. “No, it’s getting late, but thank you. So, he wants me to audition again.”

“No way!” Gina’s voice bellowed through the receiver.

“What am I going to do? Maybe this Bentley guy is right and I really can’t act.”

My stomach turned at that thought though. It was bullshit—I could act, and I did my job well. But I hadn’t yet made it to Broadway . . . maybe the dickhead had some clue what he was talking about. That thought hurt just a little bit more. For some reason, he had a different idea of what acting was.

“You know that isn’t true,” Gina said. “You’re awesome. Please try not to worry.”

“I suppose I could teach.” My head dropped in my hands. “It’s over. I know it is.” An instant headache overwhelmed me. I rubbed my temples to try to relieve the pressure, but I knew that wouldn’t work. I wanted to curl up in bed and pray this was all a bad dream, that Bentley Chambers hadn’t come to the show. “I’m so tired. The hours I put into perfecting this role were a waste because it wasn’t perfect.”

“Nothing is perfect, no matter how hard you try or how good you are. You don’t know what Mack is going to do. Please try to relax and think positive thoughts. You got this.”

I exhaled. I felt lost and overwhelmed. Sadness and self-doubt had settled in. “Thanks, G.”

“I think you should rest. Being overtired isn’t helping. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too,” I said. Gina was my biggest cheerleader and someone else I didn’t want to let down.

I rested my head on the pillow and mentally prepared myself for tomorrow, thinking of everything I wanted to say to this man. As defeated as I felt, I knew I had to take action.

The sun beamed through my blinds when I sat up in bed.
Today’s the day.
The theater was closed on Mondays, so the day was mine. I knew exactly how I was going to spend it. It was time to figure out exactly what Mr. Chambers’s problem was with me, and I could only think of one way to find out—ask.

I searched the web and found the number for the
Edge
and dialed. Once I got connected to his assistant, my heart began to race.

“Mr. Chambers’s office, Vanessa speaking.”

Her professional tone told me this wouldn’t be an easy task.

“Hello, Vanessa, this is Helen from Mr. Chambers’s doctor’s office. I was hoping to speak to him.” That was my brilliant plan—pretend to be someone else.

“Hello, Helen. I’m sorry, but he’s out of the office. I can take a message if you’d like.”

I could imagine her reaching for a pen and pad as she spoke. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Think, Andi . . .

“Here’s the thing.” I lowered my voice to a step above a whisper. “Assistant to assistant, I was supposed to call him last week, and I didn’t. It’s imperative that I speak to him sooner rather than later. May I please have his cell phone number?”

“I’m not at liberty to give out that information. Don’t you have his contact information on file?” Her voice became snippy and a bit skeptical.

Shit.
“Yes, I’m sure we do, but our computer system is down. Thankfully this number was in his paper file.”

“How about I give him your message? He should be calling in when he’s done with lunch at the Brookstone.”

She didn’t realize she’d just given me the information I needed. My smile was so wide I thought it might reach around to the back of my head and tie into a perfect bow. “How about I try him at another time? Thank you.” I hung up, got in my car, and drove to the posh Brookstone restaurant.

BOOK: The Critic
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