Love Lyrics Page 8

  “Now what makes you leap instantly to the conclusion that my mood has to have something to do with him?”

  “Come on, babe, ’fess up. I bet you ignored my advice to be careful.”

  “Speaking of experts on love.”

  “Listen, I know all the pitfalls; I’ve taken every one. So answer the question. How’s Zach? Is he due to show up today? Is that why you’re twitching?”

  “Matt! I am not twitching!”

  “Either that or you’re developing an unfortunate malady.”

  Ashley plopped into the rose chair. “All right, smarty-pants. So I ignored your advice and I took a whale of a pratfall. But he called last night, and we agreed to try again to be just friends.”

  Matt clapped his hands together and threw back his head in laughter. “That’s rich! That’ll happen about the same time cats learn to bark! Who came up with that cockamamie idea?”

  “Oh, don’t be so eternally skeptical! We are friends. We happen to like each other very much.”

  “Among a few other things.”

  “All right, so all we have to do is avoid those other things.”

  “Ashley, Ashley. For a brilliant broad you’re awfully thick sometimes. Even I don’t kid myself that much. What’s he coming for, a test run?”

  She huffed herself up to a dignified posture. “You’ll be pleased to know he’s accompanying Joe Sanders. Mr. Moneybags is ready to share the wealth.”

  Matt played a resounding “ta-dah” chord. “Whoopee! The money is in the bank. So Zach’s coming along to read the fine print?”

  “Yes. And . . .”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “They want to stay with me for the day to see some of the preparation that goes into a play.”

  “Yeah, I just bet old Zach’s dying to case the rehearsals.” Both eyebrows rose to form twin arches of skepticism. “Friends, huh? Good luck, babe. It’s a good thing the lyrics are done.”

  Ashley wrinkled her nose at him. “We can do it, just wait and see!”

  How she wished she felt even a tad of confidence in her own words!

  Ashley and Matt were in the middle of looking at costume sketches when she was summoned to the phone. All the way through the long corridor to the building’s tiny office, she fed herself tidbits of gloom. “He’s not coming, I just know he’s not coming. Something’s come up and he couldn’t get away.” By the time she picked up the receiver there were tears in her eyes. “Hello.”

  “That’s a sad-sounding hello. Are things going badly today?”

  “Hi, Zachary.” She attempted to lighten her tone, with, she suspected, precious little success. “No, everything’s fine.” If he was still in Boston, she’d die!

  There was a pause. He must have heard the anxiety in her voice. “All right, if you say so. I hope you’re not having second thoughts about our sitting in on rehearsals today.”

  “Oh, no!” She caught her breath, not quite daring to hope. “You are coming to New York?”

  “We’re not coming, we’re here. We’ve been to the lawyer’s office and all the papers are signed. I have to warn you, Joe’s eyes have acquired a proprietary gleam.”

  Ashley’s eyes had acquired blazing glints of happiness. “That’s wonderful. We’ll try to make him feel right at home with us.” So much so he’d want to come back again and again. With Zachary by his side.

  “Tell me, do you eat lunch at all?”

  “Yes.” She fought a brisk skirmish with her conscience, trying to convince it she could accept a luncheon invitation from him. But the brief flight of speculation died. She simply couldn’t leave, there was too much to be done. With a sigh, she told him, “We usually have sandwiches sent in.”

  “I see. How many people constitute we?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m talking numbers. How many sandwiches?”

  “Hmm, let me think.” She went through a mental head count. “About fifteen. Rehearsal doesn’t start until two, so as yet we don’t have the masses.”

  “Okay. Don’t send out, Joe and I will bring lunch. About one o’clock be okay?”

  “Fine.” Marvelous, incredible, magnificent!

  Ashley floated back to rejoin the costume conference. The moment Matt saw her, his eyes took on a knowing gleam, and he gave an almost indiscernible shake of his head that was just enough to convey his concern. It was all too clear that her collaborator thought she was doing a heavy gig on thin ice. Well, what did he know? His track record would certainly never be used as a guide to a smooth ride through loveland! Besides, there was no reason for him to be so doubtful. After all, their relationship was proof that male-female friendships worked! She ignored the inner voice that pointed out the vast differences between her feelings for Matt and those for Zachary. She believed what she needed to believe. If she faced too many realities, she’d have to stay away from Zach, and she didn’t think that was possible. She glanced up at the big round clock on the wall. Twelve-fifteen. She wondered if she could survive the next forty-five minutes.

  When Joe and Zach arrived, they were loaded down with cartons and bags, and they were accompanied by Jerry Jerome. The producer’s face was aglow with triumph. Ashley couldn’t blame him. Getting enough money to float a Broadway musical was no mean feat; the cost was in the millions. She got up from her seat next to Matt on the piano bench and rushed forward to meet Zachary.

  “What in heaven’s name have you two brought?” She tried to keep her eyes fastened on Joe’s big grin, instead of allowing herself to fall head first into the deep pools of dark blue that so compelled her.

  Jerry motioned toward the side exit with his head. “We’d better take all this to the back room.” As he walked through the theater, he yelled, “Lunch! Follow me!” When they reached the other room, Jerry set down two big bags and helped unload the white boxes from Joe’s arms. “They insisted on going to the Stage Door Café for sandwiches, so you know they’re not low-cal.”

  “But good,” Joe interjected.

  “But good,” Jerry agreed. “And Joe was bound and determined to bring champagne. I told him we’d lose everyone for the afternoon, but I was overruled.” His wide smile and shining face indicated that he hadn’t fought too hard to thwart any of Joe Sander’s spurts of generosity.

  Ashley, who had gone to Zach’s assistance, was irritated by the shakiness of her hands as she lifted a couple of the containers from their precarious perch and put them on the long table against the wall. “I said fifteen, not fifty! This looks like enough food to feed the entire cast!”

  He grinned. “Well, maybe they’ll arrive hungry.”

  “You can count on it. Singers are always hungry, and dancers are always ravenous. They work so hard and always have to watch their figures. It’s a tough combination.”

  His eyes slid over her covetously. “You don’t have to watch yours. It’s perfect.”

  Ashley actually felt the warmth of a blush. “Thank you, kind sir.” The glib words failed to screen the electric currents of awareness crackling between them. As Ashley lifted a carton off the pile in his arms, she allowed her gaze to be ensnared by his and promptly dropped the box. “Damn!” She bent to retrieve it, feeling awkward and foolish. She was behaving like a lovesick schoolgirl. This friendship thing was going to be one tough assignment!

  “Hey, watch the pastrami. That’s good stuff.”

  With sheer determination, she kept her eyes away from the sapphire entrappers. “Um. I love pastrami.” But pastrami was not going to satisfy her voracious appetite. There was hunger and there was hunger.

  “We also brought corned beef and smoked turkey. And you’re right, there’s enough for the cast of a play or a busload of commuters. Joe is feeling lavish today. I’ll have to stick close or he’ll give away the store.”

  Jerry came over to give her an exuberant hug. “Hi t
here, lyric lady. I hear you’ve got this show completely written. We’re neck and neck. I just got it completely paid for!”

  Ashley laughed and returned his hug. “Congratulations, Jerry. I hope the finances stay put more firmly than what I’ve written will. There are bound to be lots of changes between now and our Broadway opening.”

  “Yeah, guess that’s true.” He flashed a smile. “But I don’t worry about that — you and Matt can handle it.”

  Everyone quickly gathered in the back room, lured by the scent of food. Joe even provided champagne glasses. When they all held a glass of the bubbly, he proposed a toast. “Here’s to a full-out, no-holds-barred, rip-roaring success!” With many echoes of agreement, the champagne was quickly consumed.

  Jerry introduced Zachary and Joe to all the happy recipients of their largesse while Craig and Matt pulled up a circle of chairs. Ashley somehow managed to chew and swallow an entire pastrami sandwich, even though Zachary’s proximity caused a significant constriction of the esophagus. Surrounded as they were, they had no chance for a private conversation, which was just as well. She couldn’t think of one single platonic thing to say.

  There were, as anticipated, lots of leftovers, all of which swiftly disappeared as the cast assembled. Rehearsal, which usually started promptly on time, was a little late, but nobody seemed to mind. Having the backing safely subscribed was well worth a celebration.

  When the last of the food had about disappeared, Craig stood and called out, “Okay, cast, listen up! We’re running late, so you’ll have to concentrate extra hard. We have to finish getting this show on its feet today.”

  Joe leaned toward Ashley. “On its feet? What does that mean?”

  “Doing the blocking.” At his blank stare, she explained, “Setting the stage directions. When and where to move, that sort of thing.”

  “Very interesting.” Zachary winked at Ashley, and she smiled in return. Joe was lapping this up like a kid with an ice-cream cone.

  He was so clearly hungry for any and all bits of show biz lore, that she expanded on her explanation. “Some directors spend the first couple of days with everyone seated around a table for a read-through, but Craig says actors don’t belong on their butts, so he starts right out on the staging. They’ll be expected to have the movements, as well as the lines, memorized by the next time these scenes are run.”

  Craig was still giving instructions: “Be sure you get your directions written in the scripts. If you’re not sure about them, ask. We can’t take time to go back over this, and those scripts are out of your hands next time through. We start with act 2, scene 3, where we left off yesterday. Onstage, everyone!” The usual rush to obey orders was more a ramble today. The champagne and heavy sandwiches had taken their toll.

  Jerry pulled his chair closer to theirs, and Matt followed suit. “Joe, maybe we can take a few minutes to answer your questions before we go into the theater. If we talk during Craig’s rehearsal, we’ll get yelled at.”

  Joe nodded in compliance. “Hey, I’m the last one to want to hold up progress. I’ve now got plenty of reasons to want this play to succeed. Each and every one of which is preceded by a dollar sign.” He laughed happily. If he was at all worried about his investment, it didn’t show. “How does it begin, Ashley? Do you and Matt decide it’s time to start writing and go searching for a topic, or do you wait till you’re hit by an idea?”

  Ashley almost lost Joe’s question as Zachary hitched his chair closer to hers. The moment he got near her, every part of her became acutely tuned to his presence. She dragged her attention back to the matter at hand. “It could start with either. So far the idea has come before we’ve reached the point of really wanting to go back to work.”

  Matt snorted. “You ain’t kiddin’. After our last show, we were both ready to take a year off.” He frowned. “You know, I can’t even remember where this idea first started, but it sure played hell with our plans.”

  Ashley glanced at Zachary. His expression was unreadable. It had played hell with more than plans. She looked down at her fingers, clasped tightly together, as memories flicked through her mind. The attraction between her and Zachary had been instantaneous and incredibly potent. From the beginning, they’d spent every available moment together. It hadn’t been difficult at first, because, with the show well into its run, the demands on her time were limited. She had flown to Boston often during the week so they could have dinner and, as time went on, breakfast, together; she’d met him at any number of trysting spots for weekends; or Zachary had come to New York on Friday nights and they’d played house in her crowded little apartment. All of that had altered when she and Matt got back to work. She could understand more clearly now, with the distance of time, the shock the change must have been to Zach. She’d quickly gone from almost total availability to practically none.

  Her eyes rose to meet his. “It sort of takes over. Once an idea gets planted, it grows like crab grass, and there’s nothing we can do but go with it.” He hadn’t understood the compulsion before, and the look in his eyes said he didn’t now. He couldn’t see why their work couldn’t be contained, controlled in an orderly, reasonable time frame, like anyone else’s. The burning need to stay with it, get it written down while it was flowing, eluded him.

  Joe turned to Jerry. “How soon do you get involved with a production?”

  “In this case, I was involved before there was one. I’d seen their last show and approached them about doing the next. So as soon as the play was pretty well sketched out and a few of the numbers written, I was on the trail, kicking up interest and contacting the production team we wanted. When it’s an original, like this show, it has to be copyrighted, which is pretty simple. If it’s an adaptation of a book, we have to go after the rights, which can really be time-consuming.”

  Matt nodded. “Most of the biggest hit musicals are adaptations of either a play or a book. We’re hoping this will be an exception.” He grinned at Joe. “I imagine you are, too.”

  “It’s only money.”

  “Maybe to you, fella, but there are those of us whose investment goes beyond that — like our careers, for instance. Besides, I’ve never been able to think of money in terms of ‘only.’”

  Ashley laughed. “Matt thinks of money in terms of ‘gimme.’ But then, as he keeps reminding me, he has two ex-wives to support.”

  Joe’s eyebrows rose. “Two?”

  “Yeah. ’Fraid so. Keeps me stuck to the piano.”

  Lyle Baker ambled in. The veteran actor was wiping his forehead with the small towel he kept looped over his belt, a practice that had earned him the nickname Halfback. “Boy, check this out. People sitting and relaxing. I knew I should’ve gone into the production end of this business.”

  Jerry stood up and pulled another chair over for Lyle, shaking his head at him as he did. “Bull. No one could pay you enough to stay off the stage.” He gave him an affectionate jab to the arm. “Some people need regular transfusions of blood; with Lyle, it’s applause. Sit down, Grandpa, and rest your weary bones.” He grinned at the rest of them. “Lyle’s trying to keep this a secret, but it’s too delicious to keep to myself. He’s just become a grandfather.” There were unanimous exclamations of disbelief.

  Matt looked skeptical, “Somebody’s lying about something. We just helped you celebrate your thirty-ninth birthday.”

  Lyle shrugged. “So I’m caught.” He gave Jerry an unconvincing scowl. The two men were old friends. Jerry had produced a number of shows that had featured Lyle Baker. “So maybe I’m a few years older. I should think little details like that could be kept among friends.”

  Matt nodded vigorously. “Absolutely. It’s nobody else’s business. Not a soul will know except those of us right here and Rona Barrett’s entire video audience.”

  “Thanks, pal.” Lyle sat down, still mopping his face. He could well get away with his claim of only thirty-ni
ne years. His dancer’s body was as fit as a body could be.

  Jerry resumed his seat as he gestured toward Joe and Zach. “Lyle, you came in after the festivities this afternoon. I don’t believe you’ve met Joe Sanders — “ the two men shook hands and exchanged greetings “ — and Zachary Jordan, Joe’s lawyer.”

  Lyle’s eyes widened in pleased recognition. “Hey, so you’re the dude who came up with the idea for my big number. Thanks, friend.”

  Zachary laughed. “I’m afraid I’m getting entirely too much credit. All I did was make a hackneyed comment about investments.”

  “Investments? Is that your specialty?”

  “One of them, yes.”

  “Hey, any chance of cornering you for a consult? I’ve gone and got myself into a partnership deal that’s looking more and more crooked. Got no idea who to see about it. I’ve made a wide berth around lawyers for the last ten years, ever since one of ’em helped my ex-wife wipe out my life’s savings.”

  Ashley glanced nervously at Zach, afraid he’d feel cornered into something he didn’t want to do. But he actually looked pleased. “Sure, glad to help if I can.”

  Lyle glanced up at the wall clock. “Hell, time to get back to the grind.” He leaned over and slapped Zachary’s knee. “Hot damn, that’s great. You helped provide me with a showstopper, and now you may help save my arse.” He tipped his head toward Zach as he stood. “Good vibes. I get nothing but good vibes from this man.” He stopped behind Ashley on his way out and bent to kiss the top of her head. “Hey, pretty lady, you’re looking mighty tired these days. Why not take a couple of days for R and R? We can’t let anything happen to you. Who’d mediate all the fights — not to mention writing the shows that keep us working?” He patted her on the shoulder. “Without people like Ashley and Matt, what would I do for a living? Softshoe to ‘Tea for Two’?” He bobbed his head at all of them. “See ya. And you, Mr. Z. Jordan — I’ll catch you after my next scene.”

  “Fine.” Zach watched him disappear through the door. “Seems like a nice man.”

  “Lyle?” Jerry nodded. “He’s a gem. He’s never satisfied with his own performance, always working like a son of a gun to do it better, all the time hitching at himself for not getting it right. But I’ve never heard him say one word to or about someone else that wasn’t either complimentary or constructive. Guys like him are what make this business so great.” He tapped Ashley on the arm. “And, of course, gals like you. And I think he’s right, by the by. You should ease off a little. You get sucked into everything because you’re such a good arbitrator, and that stuff takes its toll. Just remember, arbitrator and playwright are both full time-and-a-half jobs. You have to learn to say no.”