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Authors: Katherine Stone

The Carlton Club (27 page)

BOOK: The Carlton Club
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“Janet,” he whispered as she approached him. Joanna.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice soft like his.

“You look,” Ross paused, searching for a word that wouldn’t seem too personal, too private. Something that wouldn’t offend her. He rejected wonderful, gorgeous, beautiful and sensational. He settled on a word that fit, an adjective he would never have used to describe her before. He said, “Happy.”

“Happy,” Janet repeated quietly.
Maybe I am. At least, I feel something. Something that feels
good
. “Maybe that’s it. I had a nice morning.”

“In New York?” Ross teased.

“I’m hooked. At least, it’s a nice place to visit.”

Ross and Janet slipped into the theater unobserved. The company had already assembled and was just about to begin a full rehearsal. They met Arthur in the executive offices.

“You look fabulous, Janet,” Arthur said without hesitation as he helped her with her coat. “What a dress.”

“Thank you, Arthur,” Janet said comfortably, obviously pleased.

Ross marveled at the effortlessness of Janet’s and Arthur’s exchange. If he had said the same words, Janet might have bristled, iced over.

Arthur barely knew Janet. Maybe that was why he could be so relaxed with her. And she with him. Arthur treated Janet as if she were any other attractive woman.

Maybe she was. Maybe it was Ross who was trying to read between lines that weren’t there, to find nonexistent depth beneath the still waters. Maybe Janet’s iciness toward him was, simply, that she didn’t like him. At least not personally.

Professionally, Ross worked with Janet more harmoniously than he had ever worked with an actress, much less a star. He respected her carefully considered opinions and her limitless talent. He listened to her, and she listened to him. When they disagreed—artistic differences—they talked about it. Janet would consider their disagreement thoughtfully, and she would smile when it was resolved.

So why couldn’t he tell her that she looked fabulous?

Because she wouldn’t let him.

“Let’s go into the theater. They should be starting soon,” Ross said.

“Janet, do you need a note pad? Something to write on?” Arthur asked.

Ross knew how Janet would answer. She never took notes. It was all in her head: every word, every scene, every flaw noted and not forgotten.

Janet smiled and shook her head.

Ross knew her very well, professionally.

They sat in the balcony, unnoticed. Watching. Not speaking. Occasionally Arthur would glance at Ross and grimace, or Ross would shift his position slightly, uncomfortable with something he had seen on stage. Janet watched intently, motionlessly, oblivious to Ross and Arthur.

They returned to Arthur’s office during intermission.

“So?” Arthur asked as soon as he shut the door, looking to Janet for the answer.

She laughed. “So what?”

“So what’s wrong with the show?”

Janet didn’t answer but looked inquisitively at Ross.

“You know, don’t you? You’re just seeing if we come up with the same conclusion.” It was so obvious. Ross couldn’t miss it.

“I don’t know, Janet. I honestly don’t. Tell us.”

“Let me wait until it’s over. To be sure.”

“That’s fair,” Arthur said. “But, Janet, give us a clue. Is it fixable?”

“Very.”

“Are you going to want to talk to the company?”

“Do you want me to?”

“It depends on what the problem is, doesn’t it?” Ross asked, annoyed that she wouldn’t tell them, knowing that she was right to wait until the end.

“I think,” Janet said slowly, weighing the pros and cons in her mind, “it would be helpful for me to talk to them.”

“Today?”

“Sure,” Janet said. She glanced at her watch. “Arthur, may I use your phone? I want to reach Peter in San Francisco before he leaves for the theater.”

“Help yourself. I’m going backstage to tell them we’ll do an hour dinner break at the end of rehearsal followed by a scene-by-scene critique. Sound reasonable? I mean, I don’t want to pry.”

“It’s only your show, right, Arthur?” Janet answered lightly. “Sounds reasonable.”

“Why are you calling Peter?” Ross asked mildly. “Or is it personal? Should I leave?”

“No! I just need to let him know that I’m here. I couldn’t reach either Peter or Zach before I left. This looks like a very state-of-the-art phone that Arthur has,” Janet added as she looked for the telephone receiver.

“It’s a speaker phone,” Ross said. “No hands required. That box on his desk is a receiver and an amplifier.”

“Oh.”

They both heard the telephone ringing, a familiar San Francisco ring. Peter answered.

“Hi,” Janet said without identifying herself.

“Wendy, my beloved. How are you? I spent the weekend in Carmel brooding about our love scene in the second act. I think I’ve come up with a solution. It’s pretty racy.”

“Great. I’m with Ross now. I’m sure he’ll be pleased “

“Ross is back? Wonderful.”

“No, Peter. He’s not back. I’m in New York.”

“Terrific. Maybe we should just open
Peter
Pan
in the Big Apple. As long as the company has moved there.” The annoyance in Peter’s voice broadcast flawlessly from the box on Arthur’s desk. Peter was unaware that Ross could hear him.

“Peter,” Janet said quickly. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Or Wednesday at the latest. I’ll call you as soon as I get in. I can’t wait to hear about

the second act. I actually had an idea today, too. I think Ross will be back soon.”

Janet glanced over at Ross. He was scowling.

“I hope so. OK, love. See you soon,” Peter said.

“You too,” Janet said before ending the call. Then she explained to the still scowling Ross, “We haven’t accomplished much in your absence. We’re still at an impasse with that scene in the second act.”

Arthur returned before Ross could answer.

“Let’s go, kids. Show time.”

Ross, Arthur and Janet ate Chinese food in Arthur’s office during the dinner break. They didn’t discuss Janet’s analysis of the problems with
Joanna
. Arthur announced that he was quite content to hear it fresh when she told the company as a whole.

Janet, Ross and Arthur joined the company on stage. Janet’s entrance was greeted with gasps, curiosity and anticipation. What was she doing here? Was she joining them in New York after all?

Only Beth, the new Joanna, shuddered.

“Janet! You look great!”

“What are you doing here?”

“What a dress!”

“How long will you be here?”

Janet was surrounded. Her eyes dampened for a moment at the reception. They were her friends. Friends she had made no effort to see.

“Janet is here,” Arthur said finally, “because, as you all know, the show’s not quite right. Ross and I wanted her opinion.”

The stage fell quiet. Had Janet just arrived or had she been there all day? Had she seen the rehearsal? What did she think?

Beth closed her eyes and sat down, exhausted, defeated.

“Hi, everyone,” Janet began, trying to lessen the tension, knowing what they all didn’t know, that her news was good, that the show could be fixed.

Janet walked over to Beth and offered her hand. Beth stood up and shook Janet’s hand with her own cold, clammy one. Beth knew that she was shaking hands with the enemy, the woman that the company expected her to be, who she couldn’t be, no matter how hard she tried. She felt their resentment. It was all because she wasn’t Janet.

“You’re terrific,” Janet said to Beth. Then Janet turned to the assembled company and repeated what she had said. “Beth is a terrific Joanna.”

Janet saw the skepticism, then confusion, on their faces. They trusted Janet. Janet wouldn’t whitewash. Janet didn’t say things that she didn’t believe.

“Beth is a terrific Joanna. She’s a
different
Joanna than I was. She gives Joanna a different personality that I did, but it’s a perfectly legitimate interpretation. It’s a valid, creative way to play Joanna. You never saw me do the show did you, Beth?” Janet asked.

“No,” she answered almost apologetically.

“I think that’s good. The problem is that everyone else here
has
,” Janet said, looking for the first time at Ross. He was smiling, nodding. Maybe he hadn’t known, but he knew now. He agreed. He knew that Janet was right. Janet smiled back at him and continued, “The entire company is still performing as if I were playing Joanna. But Beth’s Joanna is different. Everybody has to change accordingly. You all have to adapt to Beth, the way you all adapted to me.”

“How?” someone breathed. The “why?” that many of them felt was left unasked.

“First you have to decide that what Beth is doing with Joanna is valid. As I watched her do the first scene, so differently than I did, I thought, what is she doing? How dare she? Then I made myself watch, as an audience would watch, to see if her Joanna had life and appeal. And Beth’s Joanna does, despite . . .” Janet paused. This company knew her. They knew she could be tough and direct. They expected her to be. She continued sternly, “Despite the lack of support Beth has gotten from the rest of the cast.”

No one spoke. Beth wiped tears from her eyes, hoping no one would see her.

You’re absolutely right, Janet, Ross thought. But how do you fix this kind of polarity?

“I am not coming back. I may never play Joanna again. If you all do this show right, the way you can, then Beth’s Joanna, not mine, will become the gold standard.”

“How, Janet?” someone else repeated.

“If everyone’s willing we should start now. First, Beth needs to tell us who her Joanna is. I’m sure you’ve done this already, but no one was really listening because you all knew Joanna. Right?”

A few reluctant defiant nods. Janet was right of course. Not that they were trying to undermine the show.

“So Beth tells us about Joanna. Then I’d like to just tell you, scene by scene, where I saw the weaknesses, where you weren’t supporting her way and how I think you can change. The changes are minor, subtle but necessary, adjustments. If you don’t make them, the show will flop. If you do make them, you might as well move here permanently.”

Nervous, relieved laughter echoed through the theater.

Janet looked at the director. He was new to the company, too. He had no idea, until then, what the real problem was. He had probably said the same words to them, trying in vain to get them to support Beth. Janet had invaded his territory, but he didn’t look angry. He looked relieved. For the first time he sensed that they all might try.

As the evening wore on, as they played and replayed the awkward scenes, as they listened to Janet and to Beth and as they talked instead of arguing, they began to realize that it was possible. Exciting even. They weren’t merely copying the San Francisco production; they were creating a new production with its own character and power. Everything was possible.

They worked until two in the morning. No one noticed the time. No one wanted to leave. Only Stacy, who arrived at seven and sat next to Ross in the front row for four hours, left before they were through.

Ross and Janet rode together in a taxi to the Plaza. Ross paid the driver and walked into the hotel with Janet.

“You’re not staying here,” Janet said as they rode up the elevator. “I’d forgotten.”

“No. I thought I would see you safely to your room. It’s late.”

“Thank you.”

Janet hesitated at the door of her suite. He had been so quiet. He hadn’t even told her what he thought.

“Did you think it went all right tonight?” she asked. She held the key in her hand, but had turned, facing him with her back to the door.

“All right? Janet, you’re a genius. Everyone managed to save face. Everyone felt so good. We’re going to have a solid gold production. Yeah, it went all right,” he said. Didn’t she know?

“Sometimes you’re hard to read. You were so quiet.”

“I didn’t want to meddle. It was your show,” he said. It wasn’t entirely true. He was quiet because he was thinking about her. “It always will be your show. I agree Beth has come up with a good, valid Joanna, but I prefer the way you played her.”

“I do, too,” Janet said, frowning a little.

“What was that frown for?” Ross asked, as if Janet was just like everyone else. Ross didn’t usually let frowns pass without comment.

“That was an ego frown,” Janet said, shaking her head. “It matters to me, a little, that my Joanna not be forgotten.”

“A little?”

“A little. A tiny frown. But it shouldn’t matter at all. That sort of thing usually doesn’t matter to me.” But today, tonight, it mattered. Because of today. Because of feeling alive, vital, beautiful and proud. And happy?

“I’ll never forget the way you played Joanna.”

Janet looked up at him. She smiled appreciatively.

Ross would have kissed any other woman in the world who looked at him like that. Especially one that he had been wanting to kiss all night.

BOOK: The Carlton Club
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