Love Lyrics Read online

  “You better believe it. Hell, there isn’t a really new tune left; they’ve all been used one place or another. You just have to keep hoping it didn’t neatly pop into your head because you heard it on the radio.”

  Zach chuckled. “If that ever happens, I know a good lawyer.”

  Matt laughed and slapped him on the back. “Yeah, so I hear. I may be at your door one of these days. The only composer I know I’ve stolen from is Mozart. But what the hell, so has everyone else. More than one hit ballad has come from that source. Old Wolfgang wrote some good stuff.”

  “Too bad he didn’t copyright it.”

  “Yeah. His royalties would be awesome. Might be tough for him to collect, however.” He stretched and flexed his fingers. “Almost time to start. You’ve picked a good day to stop in. It’s the first run-through with full company. Always gives the cast a big lift. You know, some new faces to play to, not to mention more hands for clapping.”

  Zach studied his profile as he talked. Matt was a good-looking man. And, of course, Ashley was a beautiful woman. It still seemed strange to him that they could have worked so closely together for eight years without one or the other wanting something more than friendship. He suffered a few pinpricks of the old jealousy before sternly ordering a halt. It was entirely possible the urge may have hit one or the other but was never mentioned. In their case, there was a far more important relationship to maintain. Fine time to get rational about Matthew Robbins, just when he was on the brink of accepting the impossibility of anything permanent between himself and Ashley! “Maybe I’ll hang around and watch.”

  “Yeah, do. It’s a kick. Have you seen Ashley yet?”

  “No.” No use letting Matt know he was on the verge of trying to avoid that when he came in.

  “If I see her, I’ll tell her you’re here.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sit down center, about the tenth row.”

  “Okay. Thanks again.”

  He settled into a seat in the designated row and tried to relax. Just as Craig and Ashley came through the side door, Jerry Jerome plunked down on the seat beside him.

  “Hi there, Zachary old buddy. So you’re here to see the mixing of the ingredients. This is the day we either sail home on a cloud or crawl home hiding under an inchworm.”

  Zach pulled his gaze away from Ashley and turned to Jerry. “Is this rehearsal as important as that?”

  “Yes, sir, it sure as hell is. Of course, it’ll all resemble a mixer in a madhouse to you, but after you’ve been through a few you can usually tell what’s going to fly and what’s going to dive. Get a grip on your popcorn, here we go.”

  Craig stood in front of the orchestra pit and yelled, “Full cast onstage!” When they had all crowded in, Craig continued. “I want as good a picture as I can get of the play as a whole today, so I’m not going to stop you to fix things unless it’s absolutely necessary. You’ll feel awkward at times, but you know where you belong, so get to your place and don’t worry about anyone else. I’ll be taking a lot of notes, so we’ll go over all the mix-ups later. Okay, act 1, scene 1. Places!” When he’d finished, Craig picked up a clipboard and crossed over to sit beside Ashley and Matt.

  Zach wanted to be there, too, right beside Ashley. But this was business for her and . . . what? for him. Certainly not pure pleasure. The air was thick with tension; he felt a little of it invade his system. He commented to Jerry, “It’s funny, but this is getting to me, too. Like being at a Super Bowl game where you want your team to win.”

  Jerry nodded. “Know what you mean. And winning in this league means having a hit. It isn’t just making money or losing it. People who invest in shows have some gambler blood in them and love the theater enough to toss the dice here. And they can usually afford a loss. The biggie is what this can do to careers. It can make stars or push ’em back down the ladder for awhile. Whole futures sometimes hang on the success or failure of one show. Not always, naturally, but for some. Watch Kelly, the young woman who plays Angela. If this goes, she’s right on her way to the top. If it fails, she’ll have to scramble for another chance to be seen.”

  “How about the other leads?”

  “Well, Uncle Hermie’s been right up there so long it’d take more than one turkey to do him any real damage. He’s one hell of a performer and he works his tail off. The kid who plays Christo is already well-known. He’ll probably be okay until his vocal chords do a little aging and his pretty face develops a few lines. It’s my guess he’ll never put out enough effort to grow into more mature roles. He’s a juvenile hot dog, on and offstage.”

  “It all seems like another world to me.”

  “Hell, man, it is. A play in rehearsal is like a planet with only one town. The show is the only topic of conversation and the only thing anyone’s interested in. Even though I’m the producer, I sometimes feel like I’m trespassing.”

  His words did nothing to lift Zach’s spirits. He glanced at the back of Ashley’s head. So close, yet so far away.

  As the first scene got underway, Zach and Jerry settled back to listen and to watch. Zachary could see what Matt had been talking about. The delighted response started with the first solo, sung by Christo. The others, hovering backstage or sitting in the first couple of rows, broke out in enthusiastic applause, and that pattern continued through chorus numbers and dances as well as the other solos. The tension disappeared and was replaced by an excitement that was palpable.

  Jerry leaned over at the end of act 1. “Yep,” he said, “we’ve got a hit.”

  Zach wasn’t at all proud of his reaction to that. Besides his feeling of pleasure for the participants, a negative registered in his mind. If it was a hit, Ashley would be even farther from reach, less willing to consider an alternative life-style. Damn. He’d like to rise above that sort of petty speculation, but it had staked a claim in his mind, and there it sat, gnawing little holes in his finer instincts.

  Jerry stood up. “Let’s go down and reassure Matt.”

  “Why would he need reassurance if it’s good?”

  “Matt will be absolutely convinced that all the songs are bombs and there isn’t a decent melody line in the show. We’ll have to practically tie him down to keep him from taking the next plane out of New York. To anywhere.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Wait and see.” The house lights went up and Ashley turned and saw them. Her eyes widened and she made a weak little flutter of her hand that managed to pass for a wave. Jerry smiled and waved back. “Come on, we’ve been sighted. Let’s go join the fun.”

  With some trepidation, Zach followed. The word “fun” didn’t apply to what he saw ahead. As he walked toward the woman he loved, he really did feel like a visitor to another planet. It was the only time in his life he wished he was an actor.

  Chapter Seven

  Ashley watched Zachary’s tall form come toward her, trying to tell herself, all the while, that he was just an ordinary man, like any other. Two arms, two legs, one head. One pair of shoulders that just seemed wider and more muscular than others; one chest, admittedly broader than most and covered with fine, curling black hair. One pair of lips that could inflame her with their touch and ten fingers to drive her mad. She shook her head to stop the progression. Give her mind a little rope, and it swung her right out over a precipice and started to unravel itself.

  All resolutions to maintain a safe distance, all vows to protect her emotions, all efforts to accept the fruitlessness of hope — in short, all her instincts for survival — were slain by his mere presence. He didn’t have to lift a sword.

  “Hello, Zachary.” That wispy, wimpish little voice belonged to a star-struck child, not to a mature, successful woman of the world! She glanced quickly to the right and left to see if anyone was looking at her strangely. They weren’t. But Zachary’s eyes were burning holes to her heart.

  “Ashley
.” Her name sounded different when he spoke it, a one-word caress. “Jerry thinks you have a hit.”

  “Oh, I hope so. Matt’s a wreck.”

  “I understand that’s not unusual.”

  She managed only half a smile. “Not at all. But his paranoia gets to me. Makes the whole show seem terribly iffy. Could you follow the story line okay?”

  He smiled, the brilliant whiteness of his teeth catching the light that still flooded the stage. “No problem at all. I think the first act went — ” there was the slightest of pauses “ — quite well.”

  Matt, who had come up behind Ashley, blurted, “See there? See there? He can’t even say it’s okay without choking on it! It’s a disaster, anyone can tell that! We should cancel the opening, cut our losses right now and get out! If we go to Boston the theater will be empty when the second act begins.”

  Jerry stepped forward and took him by the shoulders. “Hey, man, believe me, it’s good. I told Zach before it started that it’d look like a mad scramble to him. It’d seem like that to anyone who hadn’t seen the first day of putting a show together.”

  Zachary was staring at Matt with keen interest. “You were absolutely right, Jerry. I couldn’t imagine you would be.”

  “What does that mean? Come on, I can take it. What do you mean?” Matt showed every symptom of the first stages of dementia.

  Zachary jumped in, anxious not to add to Matt’s anxiety. “Look, Matt, I liked it very much. The music is terrific, the dialogue is clever, everyone in the cast is excellent. It just seemed, well, that some of them weren’t real sure where they belonged.”

  Craig, who had been busily finishing up his notes, hooted with mirth. “God, truer words were never spoken! The group scenes looked like staged games of bumper pool. Come back tomorrow, Zach. You’ll see a remarkable difference.”

  Ashley’s eyes flew to meet Zach’s. If only he would. If only he’d be right there beside her every day, holding her hand. He seemed to read the message in her eyes, and his head shook, back and forth, just once. Was he saying no to her unspoken plea or answering some question in his own mind? She had to hold her voice steady when she said, “We’re going backstage for a cup of tea. Would you care to join us?” Dear Lord. She should follow that line by putting her forefinger under her chin and curtseying. But it was certainly better than voicing her real desire. Take me home, undress me, make love to me. . . .

  “Sure, I’d enjoy it.” His dark, dark eyes seemed hooded, remote.

  The moment they entered the big room in the rear of the theater, Ashley knew she was in for a hard time. The chorus girls seemed to turn in synchronized motion to stare at Zachary. Acquisitive lust glared like a beacon from each and every orb. She wanted to stamp her foot, to yell, “Buzz off, he’s mine!” But he wasn’t, was he? He was unfettered and thirty-three. And he was a walking dreamboat. She wondered what any one of these girls would do if Zachary were to say, “Come live with me and be my love?” What a dumb question. She knew darn good and well what they’d do! Despite her previous misgivings, Ashley was spurred to step a little closer to him and slide her arm through his. After all, they were friends!

  Zachary looked down at her, one eyebrow raised. “What’s this? A change of heart?”

  “Just a friendly gesture.”

  “I see. I have a few friendly gestures I’d like to make, too. How broad-minded is this group?”

  “They’re show people. It’d depend on how well the scene was played.” Oh, Ashley, her conscience carped, you’re stoking the fire!

  “What do you think? Would I get a round of applause?”

  “If you took off even one piece of clothing, you’d get mobbed. Haven’t you noticed the expressions on the girls’ faces? Carnal. All of them.” She gazed up at him possessively. “I’m simply trying to protect you.”

  He smiled, his eyes narrowing. “Aha, so that’s it! This sudden wave of affection is brought on by jealousy. You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me, is that it?” His voice was teasing but had a slight edge.

  “Who says I don’t want you? That’s never been an issue.”

  “Umm, maybe. But you don’t want me quite enough.” He looked around the room, obviously noting for the first time that, indeed, he was the object of all female attention. Even Agnes, the seventy-two-year-old dresser, was gaping. “I do believe I’ve been playing my hand wrong. I didn’t realize your competitive instincts extended beyond music.” He glanced around. “Not bad, not bad at all. Now look at that blonde. Very well-stacked. A regular little honey. Wonder if she’d like . . .”

  “Zachary, dammit, stop that! It’s not even funny when you’re trying to be funny.”

  “Who says I’m trying to be funny? I just realized I’ve walked right into a bonanza! I could start with the sopranos and work my way through to the altos.”

  “Zachary . . .” Her voice had dropped about an octave. It was very near a growl. His smile grew bolder, and he deliberately raised one eyebrow at the blonde. He probably knew how devastating that made him look! Ashley tightened her grip on his arm.

  “Ashley — ” he stepped away and gently removed her hand “ — please. You’re cramping my style. If I don’t get started, I’ll never get clear through the chorus line.”

  Ashley knew he was just trying to give her a bad time. She also knew he was succeeding. Why hadn’t she kept her damn mouth shut? She was sure he’d never have noticed all the come-hither looks if she hadn’t pointed them out — well, at least fairly sure. “Do you want some tea, or are you going to stand there being a sex object?”

  “Let’s face it. There are worse fates.”

  “Zachary . . .” She was making a fool of herself and he was enjoying it immensely. And of course he hit home with his taunt. She knew how infinitesimal their chances were of getting together. Yet the mere thought of one of these hot-blooded show girls laying a hand on him brought out murderous impulses she’d never known she had.

  “You actually do seem to be bothered by this, Ashley. Now, I’m a reasonable fellow. Say I pass up this delicious smorgasbord. Just what are you willing to offer as a substitute?”

  “Tea.”

  He shook his head. “Uh-uh. Not nearly good enough.” His eyes slid over her, smoky, enticing. “You’re not even beginning to negotiate.”

  “Just what do you think we’re holding here, an auction?”

  “Could be.” That one eyebrow went up again, and what could only be described as a licentious smirk appeared on his lips. “Who’s doing the bidding, you or me?”

  At that moment, Craig walked to the middle of the room, raised his hand and called, “Quiet!”

  The interruption, Ashley steamed, was just in time to save Zachary from a kick in the shins.

  It was amazing how fast the chattering stopped. Craig put down his tea mug and picked up his clipboard. “I want the full company onstage to go over my notes about act 1. As soon as we’re through we start act 2.” The area was vacated with amazing speed. Even the gawking chorus girls quickly disappeared.

  Zachary watched the exodus with interest. “I have to admit, this is a hardworking group. There isn’t much horsing around, is there?”

  “Can’t be. There’s too much to accomplish in too short a time as it is. From here until the Boston opening it gets steadily worse.”

  “That hardly seems possible.” The teasing tone had disappeared. Ashley wanted it back. If only there wasn’t this constant friction between them; they had such fun together when they were relaxed and easy. “How about this evening — any chance for a romantic dinner? Or do you have rehearsals every night?”

  She was becoming far too accustomed to a lump in her throat. It seemed to have taken up permanent residence. “Yes, I’m afraid we do.”

  “Why the weird hours? Can’t rehearsing be done in the daytime, or don’t show people wake up before
noon?”

  This was the only subject she could recall ever bringing out that snide tone in Zachary’s voice. Unfortunately, the subject was very, very important. “Most of them spend the mornings taking lessons or working out or practicing. It’s a terribly competitive arena.”

  He nodded. “I’m sure it is. Why do you have rehearsals at night? I’d like to understand.”

  “It’s the decision of the individual director. Actor’s Equity is very specific. They allow an eight-and-a-half-hour workday with seven hours of actual rehearsal. A lot of directors start at ten in the morning and run till one or one-thirty, then come back at three and work till seven. Craig has found that working in the morning and having a long lunch puts a lot of the cast in a stupor, so he starts in the afternoon at two, breaks at five-thirty, and then works again from seven till eleven. It does make for better rehearsals, but it doesn’t leave much time for a social life.”

  “It certainly doesn’t. I’m not sure this line of work ever leaves much time for a social life. Any kind of social life.”

  Ashley’s hands balled into fists. How could their playful mood have vanished so swiftly? This back and forth, up and down swing was more than she could handle. “Dammit, Zachary, how in heaven’s name could you expect something of this magnitude to be put together in less than two months without total, all-out commitment? If you really can’t stand it, then why don’t you just say so? You draw close, then retreat. You get me all hopeful again, then give me the deep-freeze. What are you trying to do, drive me crazy?” They were over in a corner of the room by themselves, but even so, Ashley had to turn away to hide the tears that had filled her eyes. “Maybe you can play this on-again, off-again, game, but it’s too much for me. The pressure I’m under here is tremendous and getting more so by the day. I just . . .” Her voice broke.