by Jan Carol
"Thanks." He murmured as he picked up the phone, pushing the blinking white light. "Philip Donaho here."
Jenà stood at the window, her mind not comprehending much of the one-sided conversation going on behind her. The only thing that kept her from blowing up was the fact that Ethan would be with her the next day. Tomorrow, the word kept going through her mind. Why couldn’t this have happened when he was here.
"Well, well. How about that." Donaho had hung up the receiver, grinning like the cat with the canary in his belly. "That blows the mister nice guy." When she turned to listen to him, her shaking was very visible. "It seems the station received a CD hand delivered Monday morning from one Ethan Ayers. Now, where did you say your fiancè was Monday morning?"
"He wasn’t here, that’s for sure. He couldn’t have been here. He wouldn’t have done that." Jenà denied it with much vehemence. "There is no way you can convince me of it."
"From what the station manager says, he signed a paper so they could play it. Says he said he was your acting manager." Philip’s anger was apparent, but had a long way to go to match hers. "We’ve got some talking to do with your Mr. Ayers, Jenà. As soon as the man shows here again."
"I tell you it wasn’t him. It could have been Hargrove. Ethan doesn’t have the copy. It’s still at the studio. I was going to get it from Hargrove tomorrow and give it to Ethan when he comes in." She felt she had to defend him to the end. She knew in her heart he wouldn’t do that to her.
"Let’s take a ride over to Hargrove’s then. We’ll find out if Ethan picked it up this weekend." He didn’t want to see his client upset any further, but it was very possible that her fiancè was trying to pull something over them all.
"He wasn’t even here this weekend, Mr. Donaho. He’s been in Los Angeles since last Wednesday night and was delayed in getting back to Savannah until this morning." They were at the curb next to the man’s car, each getting in on their sides.
"That’s what he told you over the phone, right?" The words were bitten off. "A flight from LA to Atlanta is easy to catch. Doesn’t take more than a few hours to get from there to here and back again. And he could stand to make a pile of money with you, my dear." He knew he was only making matters worse, so he remained silent the reminder of the drive, as his companion had become.
She was still very quiet when they went inside Calvin Hargrove’s office. The man was sitting behind his desk, holding the phone to his ear. As soon as it was hung up, Donaho started in on him before the irate woman could have a chance.
"We’ve got to find some answers before Jenà gets to her lawyer." His threat was a sincere knowledge of what would be started very soon, and not just against the recording studio. "Have you got anything yet?"
"Other than this Ayers guy taking the CD in on Monday morning, I’ve nothing. Can’t find out how he got it in the first place." He stood, pacing the floor, knowing that the woman was getting to the boiling point. "Honest, Miss Wisdom," he didn’t let a second go by without some words filling it, "the recording you’re to pick up tomorrow is right here." Bending before his desk, he pulled out a drawer, holding up a plastic case when he straightened. "Unless he came in here, which is next to impossible as far as security is concerned, got this, made a copy and returned it... I just don’t have a clue."
"You’re going to have to come up with a better one than that, Mr. Hargrove." She spoke too quietly. "Ethan has been out of the state all week. If he was staying right here in this office, I couldn’t be convinced he’d do it." She stood taking the thin box from the man on the other side of the desk. "I’ll just keep this, if you don’t mind." Putting the container in her purse, she looked from one man to the other. "You have twenty-four hours to find another story, a convincing one at that. If not, I will pursue legal advice."
"Jenà?" Philip stood, following her out the door. "Where are you going?" His footsteps were quick, but hers were faster. "I’ll take you back home."
"I need to walk, Donaho. I need to think. Get on the phone, or get out there and get me some answers." She had continued walking toward the exit, turning at the door to face him before she walked out, gripping her purse tightly in her hands. "I’m as serious as I’ve ever been. Twenty-four hours. Ethan will be here tomorrow. I’m sure he can do something about someone using his name to boot." Waiting for no more from him, she left the door to close on its own, headed down the street at the same speed she had found in leaving the office.
It couldn’t have been Ethan, she kept trying to get the doubts out of her mind. He understood how she felt, and wouldn’t do it to her. He wouldn’t take a chance in losing her over it, and that was what would happen. He would lose her and the chance at any money he was hoping to bring in with her voice.
The words in her mind began sinking in. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, being bumped by one person, others having to walk around her, she scolded herself inwardly. How could she even let the words come into her head? Again she let the same words run through her head, with a little more conviction, he wouldn’t.
<<<< >>>>
SITTING ON the stage of the Casino Georgia at eight that evening, strumming the guitar as she normally did, there wasn’t the same enthusiasm in the words she was singing. She knew she wasn’t holding the attention of her audience as normal. She really didn’t care. In fact, if she kept this up, she told herself, she would quickly become unpopular.
Not in the three and a half years she had begun singing professionally under Donaho, had the two hours gone by so slowly until her break time. She was beginning to wonder if the piano player would ever show up to take over during her time off. When he finally did, Jenà walked away from anyone she might know.
"What is it, Jenà?" The manager caught up with her backstage. "I’ve never heard you sound so depressed. After what I’ve been hearing about your new song, I’d think you’d be on top of the world."
"That, Mr. Walton, is precisely what has me so upset." She continued walking, going nowhere in particular. "In less than six months I’m leaving all this behind. I don’t want any of it."
"And this is what is making you so unhappy? As many as I have seen fighting to make it, a break like this would be more than they could hope for." The man continued to walk beside her.
"I wish I could give it to them. I don’t want it." She repeated so he might understand. "Whatever is going to happen with the one that hit the radio, will do it without me. We don’t even know who gave it to them. But it’s guaranteed they won’t play another." She only hoped that was true. Unless they found out where it was coming from, anything was possible.
Confusion was in his expression as he decided the woman needed some time alone. He stood where he was, watching her a few minutes longer before he left. On his way back to the front, he almost bumped into the large frame of a man.
"Jenà Wisdom?" He asked for the woman quietly. "Mr. Ayers, as I remember from last week." Tom
Walton shook the hand offered him. "Maybe you can talk her out of the depressive mood before she’s back on. I’ll give her a few extra minutes."
"I just got back in town." Ethan kept the manager there a little longer. "Care to fill me in on what seems to be troubling her?"
After explaining what he knew, what he was just told by Jená, he excused himself to talk to the man at the keyboard. "Fifteen more minutes, Jenà." He had called out to her.
She heard his call, knowing he had given her more time for getting herself back together. Sitting on a dusty old prop in the dark, she had no idea the manager had spoken to anyone, nor could she hear another approaching.
"Need a shoulder?" Ethan watched as the woman nearly jump off the box she sat on.
"Ethan! What are you doing here?" She stood, backing from him as if she thought he might do her harm.
"That’s a nice way to greet the man you profess to love." He was in front of her in a few long strides, his arms about to close around her, as he wanted to give her the kiss that would tell her how much he had missed
her.
"Please, Ethan. Don’t." She turned away from him. "I’m in no mood for that. I’d just like to be alone, if you don’t mind."
"I’d like to be alone with you. Mr. Walton told me about the radio deal." Ethan stepped back a foot from her to give her the space she asked for. "I understand why you would be so upset, Jenà. But why at me?"
"Where were you Monday morning?" She turned on him, knowing how her accusation would hurt him, but she had to know if he was where he said he had been.
"Los Angeles. But you know that." The confused look on his face lasted long enough for her to see it disappear. "Wait a minute." He slowly spoke the words. "You don’t think I’d fly all the way out here and do exactly what you’re against? You don’t think I’d be so stupid to risk losing you for a few dollars?"
"A few dollars?" She threw the words back at him.
"Yeah, a few. Because if I know you as well as I think I do, it would be your first and last hit. Besides," he lowered his voice, though he hadn’t raise it as she had hers, "I want you and I to be married, happily. You being on the road, how could we be happy? I’ve enough money to make ends meet for a while." His teasing smile brought a small grin to her face, one that he welcomed.
"I’m sorry, Ethan." She went into his waiting arms then. "Forgive me? They insisted that it was you who took the CD to the station, and signed the release for them to play it, and that you said you were my acting manager. I knew you couldn’t have done that."
"Then why all this fuss?" He smoothed back her hair, kissing her face.
"Because I was angry. Because they kept telling me it was you. I don’t know why. I had to hit someone with it." Shrugging her shoulders, she shook her head.
"I forgive you."
"How come you’re here so early? You did say Thursday, didn’t you?" She waited for the answer to her question.
"I got finished a little early. It’s a good thing I got here when I did. You needed me far more than any business deal I was in." Again he claimed a kiss as they heard her being called from the front. "Now, you go back out there and give it all you’ve got. I love you." With a pat on her backside, he sent her off before following to the front.
The next two hours went twice as fast as they ever did. She sang to the man who stood just off stage, watching, waiting for her. She knew by tomorrow morning she would have the answers. Ethan would take her to the station and they would tell her he wasn’t the man they knew as Mr. Ayers. Maybe by description either Hargrove or Donaho would find a face to match. The only other question she wanted answered was, why. She was sure when the man was identified, she would have that answer also.
<<<< >>>>
SHE SAT at a table in a café down the street from Donaho’s office, waiting for the man to join her. With the description, she was the one who recognized who had impersonated Ethan. She called him, asking that he meet her. Reluctantly he had agreed, but now as she waited, she wondered if he had backed out after all.
Ten minutes late, Jenà watched him enter the restaurant. Seeing her he slowed his pace. With the lift of her hand, the waitress brought another cup of coffee, refilling hers while she was there. For a few minutes, both sets of eyes were glued to each other, then his dropped.
"Why?" She asked him, not having to say more, as he knew exactly what she wanted to know.
"I was jealous." He slowly began to form the words. "I’m not proud of what I did. I realize I could have ruined your life. But I wanted to break the two of you up. I figured if you had a song that could hit the charts and he was the one that put it out, you would hate him for it." He stirred the black coffee vigorously for distraction.
"I’m sorry. I don’t understand." She watched his expression, wondering what he hadn’t told her yet.
"I want you that much, Jenà. I didn’t want Ayers to have you. When I knew for certain that you had slept with him... I guess I just went crazy." Setting the spoon down he sipped at the steaming black liquid. "I can see now how much you love him, and I guess he returns it after all. You trust him, don’t you?" Westley sat across the table from her, his head hung as low as possible, as he told her why he had taken the recording to the station.
"That’s the answer to why." She spoke quite obnoxiously. "Mind telling me how you got the CD in the first place? How you found out I was making it?"
"It was simple, actually." He spoke slowly, hoping one day she would forgive him. "I just kept an eye on you, and your activities. I don’t know how you didn’t see me several times. I guess you were too busy to notice everything around you." His cup was nearly drained, hers still half-full. He was quiet while the waitress came by to pour more coffee for him. "When I heard you singing that night, it was as if the plan were being put into my hand. But you sang it to him. Only to him. It made me feel that much more resentful of him. I just knew after hearing you sing it and the way people were talking about it, your agent would talk you into recording it. I called your agent and prodded him."
"You did what?" Jenà was upset that Donaho hadn’t told her he had received a call. She would have to ask him about that.
"I told him he would be a fool if he didn’t at least get it on tape for the future just in case you changed your mind. He said he had already thought about it, and you wouldn’t go for it." A cloud seemed to be moving into his eyes. "Then something happened to change your mind. I don’t know what, but you were going to Hargrove’s. What changed your mind, Jenà?"
"Ethan wanted a copy. I was still against it, but for him, I would do just about anything." She supplied him that much. "Hargrove thought I should record more, just for Ethan. So I agreed."
"Ah-h-h. That’s what it took. I should have known." His smile didn’t reach the clouded eyes. "I found an employee who needed money. I had enough to entice him to make a double copy, one for you and one for me. At first he didn’t want to do it, but I told him that it would be only for me. I told him that you and I went way back, and you would trust me with a copy. He needed the money real bad, so he didn’t question why you wouldn’t give it to me yourself." He felt he had to explain as much as she needed. "I made several copies of Love’s Stranger and took a few out to the biggest stations around, with plans to send the rest later. They were more than willing to listen. I couldn’t believe my luck. The first one I talked to had heard you sing at the Orange Paradise, so he was interested right away. I figured I couldn’t get that lucky a second time, so I told the rest that WBMR was getting ahead of them." He glanced at her, smiling. "You are a smash, you know."
"I thought you had another cruise to go on." The long silence between them was broken by her words. The waitress had come back by to refill their coffee and left them alone again.
"I did. But I got so wrapped up in writing that song, I turned down the job." He looked so sad, as if he were heartbroken.
Her blue eyes sparkled as they widened, starring at him. "You wrote it?"
"Writing it was easy. It’s what I feel about you. The music wasn’t as easy. I’ve never put anything to music before." Sipping his coffee, he found a grin. "It was good, wasn’t it?"
"If you can do that, why are you cleaning up after others? You could be one of them." She rolled her eyes, focusing again on the man sitting before her. "Gosh, Westley! You’ve wasted a lot of time. Find another singer or group to do Love’s Stranger. You’re on your way up."
"No. That song belongs to you." He spoke sadly. "I’ll pull out some I’ve written over the last few years and put them to music. I don’t know if any are as good as that one, though." He held his chin up, losing some of the sadness to the excitement that was building in him. "Now that I know I can do it, just you watch out. You’ll be hearing my name very soon."
"I hope to. Just because it’s not where I want to be, doesn’t mean I don’t wish it for someone else." Standing, she set a couple of bills on the table.
"Let me." Westley put down his own. "It’s the least I can do for all the trouble I’ve put you through." Handing her money back to her
, he walked her to the front door. "I’m truly sorry, Jenà. I went out of my head for a while. But with your understanding, I know I’ll do better. I don’t deserve the kindness either of you are showing. Be sure to tell Mr. Ayers he is one hell of a lucky man."
"I’m the lucky one to have found him. I wouldn’t have, if it weren’t for you. I wish you all the luck in the world, Wes."
"Hey, you’re the one getting married." He wrinkled his nose, then kissed her cheek. "I should wish you that kind of luck, and I do." Westley turned and walked down the street, a lot more spring in his step than he had when she saw him coming into the café.
Jenà walked the four blocks to Donaho’s office where Ethan had stayed to talk with the agent. His assignment, while she was on hers, was to explain to them how miserable she was and talk Donaho into giving her the freedom to marry now. In exchange, they could have the songs she recorded to do with what hey wanted.
As she walked into the inner office with a smile lighting her face, all three men stood and greeted her. Silence filled the room as she took the vacant chair near Ethan.
"Why didn’t you tell me you received a call about Love’s Stranger after I sang it at the Orange Paradise?" She was looking directly at her agent, expecting an immediate answer.
"Honey, that’s my biggest job around here. You didn’t get just one call about it." Donaho’s smile lit the area around him. "It was as if all recording managers were there that night, and after hearing you sing, they all wanted to produce that record."
Satisfied with the words he spoke, she shrugged her shoulders. "I didn’t realize you did anything but sit here and make money off other people." Her teasing smile got a chuckle from them. "Anyway, my mission has been accomplished, how about yours?" She had turned to Ethan.
"I didn’t know either of you had one." Philip remarked.
"Well, I didn’t. Not really. But I feel I’ve accomplished something. Not only did I find out why Westley put my recording out, but how, and also who wrote it." She enjoyed the suspense she held them in.