“That is the way it is,” said Doug, quietly and with emphasis. “Come up to Boston in September, and you’ll see her again. Dinner in the North End. The
best Italian food in the world.”
After placing orders with their server, the conversation became all business. The plot, the actors, the creative team of The Sanctuary. Doug would be hands-on through the run.
“If it runs the whole eight weeks.”
Jen’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth. She placed it back on her plate and avoiding Doug’s eyes, focused on the once-amiable Alan Silverman, who’d asked about her law skills.
“It will,” she said with confidence. “I’m extremely familiar with the Commonwealth Theater. I know the audiences. I know the people of Boston.
Patrons come from all over the area. One month’s run would be minimal. Two months will happen. Besides,” she added, “my understanding is that the theater’s literary management had no trouble funding the show. It’s that good!” She leaned back in her chair. “But, as always, everyone’s taste is different, and you’ll have to judge for yourselves.” She looked from one to the other. “I promise you a warm welcome to my adopted hometown.”
“If she’s not a lawyer, she shudda been…”
The producer glanced at Doug. “You’re one lucky s.o.b. She’s riding shotgun for you. And sticking close.”
“I noticed,” Doug said wryly. But although he smiled, he didn’t look happy.
Several hours later, all concerns disappeared as the audience viewing The Broken Circle got to its feet, acknowledging the cast with long, sustained applause.
Tears ran down Jen’s face, a mix of grief and hope as she relished the satisfying ending. And she wondered how the new lead could possibly be better than the woman in the cast now. Fortunately, it wasn’t her problem.
But maybe it was. If she and Doug were a real unit, they had to have each other’s backs. At least, that’s what she’d noticed about Mike and Lisa. It made sense.
Jen, Doug and the other three men walked slowly to the theater lobby. “I loved the college production,” said Jen, turning toward Doug, “I cried then too— but this! It’s so much better than my memories.”
“Because the script was brought to life by professionals,” said Steve. “Good actors can make anything sound great, but they can’t turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse.” He turned to Doug and clapped him on the shoulder. “You are one talented son of a gun, with an understanding of the human condition that seems beyond your years.”
“Thanks. Thank you all,” said Doug, including the other two men, “I may look young on the outside, but inside…? My mom says I have an old soul.”
Is that why he’d been able to see through her defenses years ago? Is that what gave him the confidence to come back without any promise from her?
“We’re impressed,” said Jeff Silverman. “I won’t say otherwise. Tell your mom she raised a gifted son.”
Alan shook Doug’s hand. “We’ll come to Boston to see the new play, but we’ll be calling you tomorrow about this one. We have another idea. The drama, Doubt, played on Broadway for a year and a half. Your play is still going strong after two years. Now’s the time to take it on tour.”
She saw Doug’s eyes widen, his brows lift. He’d been concentrating so hard on The Sanctuary, this possibility for The Broken Circle had taken him by surprise.
She had lots of questions, and her fingers itched for a calculator. Her work was cut out for her.
Chapter 11
Doug hoisted their overnight bags and put them into the trunk, then settled himself behind the wheel of his car. He glanced at Jen. “Seat belt on?”
“Yes,” she replied with a yawn. “Can’t believe I’m sleepy on a Sunday afternoon.”
He could believe it. She’d been on the go non-stop since they’d arrived on Thursday and had been up late the evening before with her mind working overtime. “I’m told that being a tourist can be an exhausting occupation.”
She grinned. “I loved that part.”
He felt her hand on his arm and turned toward her. “Forgot something upstairs?”
“Nope, but I have a question. Why were you annoyed with me last night?”
So, she’d noticed. “For one thing, you sounded like my mother, bragging about her boy.”
“So what? The only thing your mother and I have in common is that we both love you… Oh, I see. Embarrassing. I’ll give you that. However---I know from experience that it’s hard to brag about yourself without sounding like a total egotist. Therefore, you were lucky to have me around.”
Quick answer, quick mind. And turning defense into offense. He waited to start the ignition. “Alan Silverman was right. You should have been a lawyer. And what was that bit about the Commonwealth’s literary management?” he asked.
“You know nothing about that. And it sounded like the start of a negotiation.
Keep out of it. I can negotiate for myself.”
And that would be a mistake for him. “No, you can’t. Even Mike doesn’t. And Lisa says anyone negotiating on their own has a fool for a client.” Jen twisted in her seat. “Don’t drive off yet. Just listen to me.”
“I’m listening.”
“You know how I am about not liking nasty surprises. I did my research at home on-line. A play doesn’t get produced regionally without backing from the theater’s literary management.”
“Research? If you wanted to know something, why didn’t you just ask me?
Don’t you trust me with the answers? With the truth?” He heard the dismay in his own voice. Back to trust. The one subject that could pierce his heart. “There are always uphill battles. Success doesn’t come without financial risk.” Funny, she’d never asked about his personal finances, and he’d kept discussions about his earnings pretty general.
“Doug, I’m sorry…”
He started the car and began to drive, but before Jen finished, his phone rang.
