* * *
Ten minutes to actor call time and every single last one of them had already signed in. What had Lauren done to deserve such a smooth final performance? Her little stage manager heart swelled with pride. No phone calls to make. No one to track down. No tardy entries on that performance report. She celebrated the victories when they happened.
Following today, Into the Woods would fade into history and Lauren had some time off. She would take a weekend trip to Cancun, lie on a beautiful beach, take in the crystal blue waters, and who knew? Maybe she’d meet a nice woman at a bar for some after-hours fun. The other resident production stage manager, Matthew the Great, would take over the driver’s seat as PSM on a new play going into rehearsal at The McAllister, Starry Nights, scheduled to run for four weeks in the fall. She’d return to PSM the Christmas show, which would go into rehearsal in just over a month, once Starry Nights moved to the stage. Between now and then, she’d find out what it felt like to be a person again, a real live one with a life.
“Got a sec, Lauren?”
“Hey, Wilks.” Nolan Wilks was the artistic director of The McAllister and responsible for keeping the whole engine moving. In other words, her boss, and a very capable one. “What’s up? I’m approaching half hour so I don’t have a ton of time to talk, unfortunately.”
He straightened his polo shirt as if it were a tie. She smothered an affectionate grin. “You’re going to hate me, but you might just have to hate me. Are you ready to hate me?”
She stared at him, checked her watch, and held up one finger to place him on hold. She pressed a button on the microphone in the booth and leaned toward it. “Ladies and gentleman, half hour until curtain. This is your half hour.” Refocusing on Wilks, she prepared herself. “Please don’t make me hate you. I much prefer celebrating you as headmaster over all of Hogwarts.” She smiled at him but wondered what in the world was going on if he was storming the booth at half hour.
“I need you for Starry Nights.”
She swallowed. “No, you don’t. You and I both know I’ll be on that much needed vacation. That means me, a beach, and the tiniest of umbrellas in my glass. Picture it, and please don’t say any more. This is my time away, and I’m in love with it. We’re getting married.”
“Time you very much deserve.” He paused. She stared. They repeated the process. “But I need you, and you know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t that important.”
She took a moment. “I don’t understand. Matty’s on it. Matty is fully capable.” Matthew the Great was a decent enough production stage manager. Reliable, focused. True, he didn’t always know the best way to defuse a hot-button situation, but his organizational skills had earned him his nickname. His series of personally developed charts and spreadsheets had changed Lauren’s PSM life for the better. Plus, Matty could track a prop’s journey onstage like no one she’d ever met.
Wilks rubbed his forehead. “I’m not sure he’s right for this one. We have a high-profile cast member, and I need someone with a delicate touch.”
Lauren frowned. “But that’s not at all unusual. Pretty much every other production has someone famous headlining. We’ve worked with Meryl Streep, for God’s sakes. Matty can handle famous.”
“It’s not unusual, no,” Wilks said. “But from what I’ve read this morning of Carly Daniel, she can be a handful.”
Lauren blinked. Carly Daniel? Of course she knew of her. She’d been a much talked about film actress who was everyone’s favorite in Hollywood until recently. It all came back to her. Sometime last year, a series of articles about her misbehavior on sets swarmed the gossip rags, and as a result, she’d been MIA onscreen. Lauren looked to Wilks, incredulous. “Who’s directing Starry Nights?” The real question was who the hell had cast a party girl to come and headline at a show at the esteemed McAllister Theater, of all places?
“Ethan Moore, who I’ve been trying to get on our season for years. I finally managed it. He’s a fabulous director who knows what he’s doing. He’ll do great things here, but he wants Daniel. Insisted.”
Lauren could understand, to an extent, why. She was a good actress, layered, and watchable as hell with how pretty she was. Lauren couldn’t argue that fact. Lauren wished she had half of Carly’s talent—maybe things would have gone differently for her. As far as Ethan Moore, of course she’d heard of him, too. He’d directed multiple times on Broadway in the past five years but would be new to The McAllister space. “Okay, so Carly Daniel, problem child, is starring in our next one. Sounds like a done deal. Keep her from dancing on top of tables and you’ll be fine. Why do you want me?”
“You can handle her, and I want more than anything for Ethan to have a good experience here. I’d love to foster this relationship with him for future projects, and if Carly Daniel comes in and makes this production unsavory for him, he’ll always remember his time here as…undesirable. Ultimately, we’ll pay the price for it.”
She closed her eyes. “And Matty can’t make that happen for you? I’m hours from a beach and a piña colada, Wilks. Hours,” she practically squeaked. Anything to not have to lose her vacation. She needed this vacation. She’d planned for it for over a year now. She had a bundle of little brochures all in a folder.
“Not the way you can, Lauren. No one has your cool head and skill with people. I was nervous about not having you with Ethan already, but now that Carly Daniel has been attached to the project?” He shifted and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I really need you and will buy you eighteen piña coladas when this is said and done.”
She glanced at the clock apologetically. “I need to get this performance going.”
“Of course. I’ll scoot-scat out of your way.” He did a little dance to lighten things up, which Lauren appreciated. Wilks, who had to be in his late sixties, could be cute despite his otherwise distinguished persona. She wanted to pat him on his head while still carrying great respect for him. “Think about it? You’d be the hero of this place.” He backed away. More scoot-scatting. “And you’ll be compensated appropriately.”
“You should have led with that.”
He pointed at her. “I will next time. And Lauren?”
“Sir?”
“You’re the best goddamned stage manager in the business.”
“I will remind you of that someday when you forget.” He nodded and snuck away so she could do her job for the next three hours and give this show a proper closing. The compensation part of his offer didn’t sound half bad. As a stage manager, she was a member of Actors’ Equity, and there was a minimum pay scale in place. Hearing Wilks say he’d go above and beyond did carry some weight. Maybe if she put off her vacation a bit, she could take a few extra perks for herself. Fly first class. Upgrade her reservation to one of those upscale all-inclusive places with private cabanas and butlers that brought the fruity drinks. She closed her eyes and imagined herself in a bikini, the sun caressing her skin. God, could she really give that up?
“Lauren, we’re at fifteen,” Trip informed her.