Showbiz, A Novel (16 page)

             
No answer on her phone. That dampened his elation for a moment. It had been two days since they had talked, and he was shocked to realize how much he had been missing her. He’d always prided himself on his independence, especially where women were concerned, and he had all but given up on the idea of an actual relationship. He always had plenty of women willing to keep him company. Now he only thought of one woman. He knew he shouldn’t be concerned. It was still too early in their relationship for a routine. But they had been talking more frequently up until that point.

             
The only other thorn in an otherwise-rosy weekend was his upcoming lunch with his editor on Monday. Not surprisingly, his own paper was less than thrilled that their columnist was so visibly looking for work at the
Banner
. Then again, it made for good gossip. If they were smart, he thought, they’d use it to their advantage. He was planning to pitch to them that if he
didn’t
get the job, he’d use any additional dirt he got on the
Banner
in his much-anticipated and now very overdue exposé and make it that much better.

             
His eyes drifted over to the bank statements Scarlett had left with him. She had gone way out on a limb for him, and he wanted to do right by her. Maybe it was best that they weren’t talking for a few days. It would make it easier for him to do what he needed to do without getting her more involved than she already was. She could thank him on the other side, when everything worked out.

             
He took a deep breath and thought about the best way to approach Candace with what he knew. Could he really pull it off? Fight fire with fire, he kept telling himself. So what if on the surface it looked like he was blackmailing Candace for his own benefit? He was convinced that it was for a larger cause. He’d come clean later, after he’d brought integrity back to the
Banner
.

             
Reilly sipped the hot coffee and walked over to the window. He could see people scurrying to work, some stopping at the newsstand that he could just see from sixteen stories up. Some of them may be buying a paper that held his column. Even from up here, he knew that most of them would be reading the
Banner
,
and in a few weeks, they’d all be reading him.

Scene 28

             
“Don’t be nervous,” Scarlett
said
to the Jeremys, as they came out of the subway station at 66
th
Street.

             
“I’m not nervous,” Jersey Jeremy
said
, passing his stack of sheet music from one arm to the other for the hundredth time.

             
“He doesn’t like having to play and sing his own work in public,” Buff Jeremy reminded Scarlett. Then turning to Jersey Jeremy, he said, “I’m sure Scarlett’s boyfriend will love our show, despite your attempts to mangle it with your singing voice.”

             
“Gee, thanks for that. I don’t see you getting up there to sing with me!” Jersey Jeremy
said
.

             
“Have I ever told you how much I loved your singing voice?” Buff Jeremy
said
to Jersey Jeremy with chagrin.

             
“You better stop with that whole
boyfriend
business, too,” Scarlett
said
as they crossed the street to Lawrence’s building. “Lawrence is
not
and never has been my boyfriend,”

             
“Right, of course. I meant to say
boy toy
,” Buff Jeremy said to Scarlett. Then, considering Lawrence’s more than several years on Scarlett, he added, “Or
man toy
? Which do you think he’d prefer?”

             
In response, she punched his shoulder playfully as they waited at the light.

             
“You still dating mystery man?” Jersey Jeremy
asked
. “We’re beginning to think he doesn’t exist!”

             
“You’ll meet him soon, I promise,” she said, knowing that she needed to call Reilly. After their impromptu sleepover, he’d be wondering by now why she hadn’t called. She was pleased with herself for having the will power to get some distance, in light of everything that was happening, and despite her desire to call or see him every minute. Apparently, absence was only making her heart grow fonder.

             
The
Swan Song
trio walked through the sparkling revolving doors into the grand lobby of Lawrence’s building.

             
“Is there a dress code I should know about?” Jersey Jeremy said, eyeing the white-gloved, uniformed doormen, fresh flower arrangements, and endless gold leaf.

             
“Yes,” Scarlett
said
. “A Rolex, some Armani, and a few million dollars in your wallet.”

             
“Damn, I left my Rolex in my limo,” Buff Jeremy
said
sarcastically.

             
“Don’t worry, honey, I’m sure Lawrence has fifteen or twenty to spare,” Jersey Jeremy
said
.

             
“Behave yourselves!” Scarlett
said
, smiling. “We’re here on business. I’ve told Lawrence how great you are. Don’t let me down.”

             
They all stepped into the elevator.

             
“We’ll be perfect angels,” Buff Jeremy
said
, fluttering his eye lashes and putting his hands together as if he were praying, which showed his pecs off to best advantage.

             
“Now you’re pushing it.” Scarlett laughed, as the elevator opened.

             
The doorman had let Lawrence know they were on their way up, and he was waiting for them.

             
“Welcome! Come in, come in!” Lawrence said grandly. “You must be the famous Jeremys that Scarlett’s told me so much about!”

             
Scarlett enjoyed watching the Jeremys’ eyes widen as they entered the main room and took in the view of Lincoln Center and Julliard. It was not often Scarlett saw them speechless. It is fun to have friends in high places—literally and figuratively, thought Scarlett. The Jeremys took in the early evening view, watching the city’s lights twinkle on one by one. Scarlett wondered how long it would be before they realized that, with the binoculars perched on the window sill, they could actually watch ballet rehearsals going on through the windows across the way. It was one of Lawrence’s favorite past times.

             
Lawrence gave Scarlett a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “How are you holding up, Gorgeous?”

             
“I’m good. Thanks for meeting with us.”

             
“The pleasure’s all mine.” He turned to the guys. “Can I get you a drink?”

             
“No, thanks,” both Jeremys
said
. They were standing forlornly in the middle of the living room, clearly not sure where to park themselves among the sleek black and chrome bachelor-pad furniture. Jersey Jeremy was eyeing the grand piano.

             
Scarlett jumped in to rescue them. “Shall we get down to the business at hand?” She had no doubt that they would all hit it off, once they got to know each other. She was eager to get past the awkward getting-to-know you phase.

             
“Please sit,” Lawrence
said
with a flash of his charming smile. The Jeremys sat on the black leather couch directly behind them. “I’ve heard so much about you from your lovely and brilliant producer, here.” He gestured to Scarlett, who had taken a seat in the black leather Barcelona chair near the piano.

             
Lawrence perched casually on the other couch that was littered with tech magazines and the intimidating master remote that Scarlett learned operated everything in the apartment from the lights to the music to the blinds. Lawrence could be such a tech geek. She wouldn’t be surprised if one button ordered take-out and another made the bed.

             
“Um, thanks,” Jersey Jeremy
said
. She had never seen the Jeremys so nervous.

             
Eager to put them at ease, she said to Lawrence, “I’ve told them a bit about our conversation. But why don’t you tell them why we’re here?”

             
“Of course!” Lawrence said with enthusiasm. “Well, as Scarlett has probably told you, I’ve been investing in several Margolies’ shows over the years and have been having a blast. However, due to some recent events”—his eyes met Scarlett’s for a moment—“I’ve decided it’s time to broaden my portfolio, so to speak. From a financial perspective, it really doesn’t make sense to throw in my whole lot with Margolies. I’ve decided to diversify, and, it seems our Scarlett here has had a project up her sleeve all along.”

             
Despite her close relationship with Lawrence, Scarlett had kept quiet about her own producing projects. She hadn’t wanted to come across as poaching Margolies’ investors—a big no-no, even though it happened among producers all the time. All that changed, though, when she learned that Lawrence had discovered the source of the additional
Olympus
money and had pulled out.

 
             
“I’ve told him about our success at Pinter and the fact that we got slotted into this season at the Manhattan Theatre Workshop,” Scarlett said. “I’ve invited him to come to rehearsals next week, of course. In the meantime, I want him to meet you guys and learn more about our plans.”

             
“I’d love to hear what you have, if you don’t mind,” Lawrence
said
to the Jeremys. “Scarlett said you’d be nice enough to give me a sneak peek. How’d you come up with the idea, anyway?”

             
That was the right question. The Jeremys’ eyes lit up and they launched into the story Scarlett had heard a million times about the genesis of their musical project—Jersey Jeremy’s love of
Swan Lake
as the first ballet he ever saw, one magical night in Manhattan during his childhood. Buff Jeremy’s obsession with
Black Swan
,
Darren Aronofsky’s film with a dark take on the same story. The combination had inspired their own contemporary version of the
Swan
Lake
story. Lawrence had gotten the basics from Scarlett, but hearing the Jeremys’ compelling description was clearly thrilling for him.

             
The ice broken, the three men gathered around the piano, where the Jeremys walked Lawrence through the show.

             
“Do you know the original
Swan Lake
story?” Buff Jeremy
asked
.

             
“I’ve seen the ballet a few...hundred times, give or take,” Lawrence
said
with a smile, gesturing out his window to Lincoln Center, home of the New York City Ballet. “A Russian prince who is looking for a wife comes across a lake made from the tears of swans that were once women but have been transformed by an evil sorcerer. He falls in love with one of them—”

             
“Odette. The white swan,” Jersey Jeremy
prompted
.

             
“Right. But the sorcerer somehow tricks him with a different woman—”

             
“The sorcerer’s daughter, Odile. The black swan. He tries to trick the prince into marrying her instead,” Jersey Jeremy
said
.

             
“Does that about cover the plot?” Lawrence
asked
.

             
“Basically, other than the fact that the prince eventually figures out he’s been tricked and he and Odette are reunited, where upon they promptly drown themselves in the swans’ lake.”

             
“…And they all live unhappily ever after,” Scarlett
finished
.

             
Jersey Jeremy jumped in and started playing the introduction to the opening number on the piano. “Now put all of that in the back of your mind, because this is
Swan Song
.” He kept playing, underscoring his narration. He adopted a lilting Southern accent. “Let us take you to Louisiana. 1952. Simple set, small but brilliant cast, lush orchestra. A small-town sheriff’s deputy we call Prince. A powerful, and, might we suggest, evil sheriff. And the beautiful girl Prince loves, Odette.” He continued through the opening number, singing through all the parts as the characters were introduced and the exposition was set up.