It was a tense morning, because everyone knew Nathan would be announcing the casting before the table read. The unwritten rule in the theater was that as long as you were cast, you showed appreciation. No small roles, and all that. And with this group, they were so much like family that any pang of dejection was overshadowed by genuine happiness for your fellow actors.
Besides, they all had some level of daddy issues when it came to Nathan. The cast had talked about this both drunk and sober. He was only in his late thirties, but he had a quiet authority about him that made everyone in his orbit eager to please him. For his day job, he taught theatrical design at a college in Staten Island. Dana imagined that his students felt the same way about gaining his admiration.
So when they took their places around the table, Dana knew that reactions would be small but energy high as Nathan dropped a copy of the script in front of each actor and unceremoniously announced their character. Dana was pretty sure she would get either Starlight, the weird bohemian next-door neighbor, or Penny the life coach and lead.
Nathan tossed a script in front of her friend Tyrel and announced, “Curtis,” who was the landlord and love interest—essentially the male lead. Tyrel gave a constrained raise-the-roof pump with his hands, and then quickly corrected himself, arcing his arms into a muscle flex to illustrate that he could play a masculine role, despite his natural inclinations. The group tittered.
Raj and Sylvia got the married next-door neighbors, Yvette got the androgynous office assistant.
Nathan dropped a script in front of Carolyn Beattie, who locked eyes with Dana. She was Dana’s main competition for the lead, and they both knew it. One of them would get the part, so this was the moment of truth for both. The microsecond pause between the thud of the script and the director’s pronouncement seemed to stretch and stretch and stretch as the two women held their breath.
Nathan coughed, and Carolyn rolled her eyes, as if to say, Can you believe this?
“Starlight,” he pronounced, and Carolyn gave a nod of acceptance, followed by a silent acknowledgment of congratulations to Dana. It was a small movement—her hand went to her heart and then opened toward Dana—but it said everything she needed. Dana put her hand to her own heart in gratitude. Then they moved on and read the play through, with Dana as Penny. She couldn’t tell if it was going to be a hit, but they would have a blast.
Afterward, Dana had to fight the urge to call Ari and tell him about the part. Her joy felt incomplete, as if it wasn’t a real victory until she shared it with him. She stuffed down the feeling and told herself it would happen soon enough. After all, this investigation couldn’t possibly linger very long.
Besides, Megan would be happy for her. As her best friend and manager, she was fully invested. And Dana would be able to tell her in person, as they had already arranged to meet up for a bite to talk about what the rest of the day with the Dennisons had been like.
“You look better than yesterday,” Megan said, as she slid into the booth across from Dana. They were in Moran’s, a pub they had long ago identified as being more or less equidistant between their apartments. Besides, the cozy wood-paneled bar had the most perfect French fries that ever came out of a kitchen. Dana would gladly do an extra hour in the gym for a couple of handfuls.
“I am better,” Dana said. “I just came from a table reading.”
“You never told me what play you were doing.”
“Didn’t want to jinx it before casting. But it’s a comedy—something Nathan wrote. It’s brilliant.”
“Sweat City is doing a comedy?”
Dana understood her friend’s confusion. Sweat City had established a reputation for its drama. “It’s really offbeat,” she explained. “But...accessible. I could almost picture it as a TV series. Such great characters.”
“And?” Megan’s expression was coy. She knew Dana well enough to understand the news would be good.
Dana smiled. “I got the lead. And it’s not a straight man kind of lead. It’s going to get laughs. At least I hope so.”
“We should celebrate,” Megan said, her eyes bright. She signaled the waitress and ordered two martinis with top shelf vodka.
When the drinks arrived, they clinked glasses.
“You’re going to clear this with Sherry, of course,” Megan said.
Dana stared at her friend, surprised. “No way.”
“You have to.”
“But we have an understanding.”
Megan shook her head. She was in manager mode now. “At this point, all bets are off.” She took a sip of her drink and leaned toward Dana. “Listen, I don’t know how things are going to go down at your company now. If the board nixes Ivan’s plan to cross over into electronics, you’re fine. But if they go through with it, they might be looking for any excuse to cancel your contract. We can’t give them one.”
Dana set down her glass. “Are you serious?”
“Not usually. But this is important.”
“Come on, you know what a pain in the ass Sherry is. What if she decides to fuck with me?”
“Frankly, she’s got bigger things to worry about right now. I don’t think she’ll hassle you much.”
“This is Sherry Zidel we’re talking about.”
Megan seemed to give that some thought. “Tell you what—give me a heads-up when you’re meeting with her and I’ll join you. We’ll make this happen.”
12
At first glance, the mood at the Shopping Channel the Monday morning seemed somber. But under the surface there was a charged mix of schadenfreude and the excitement that goes along with being up close and personal with a shocking tragedy. Sure, everyone acted appropriately mournful, but the energy had a certain tingle. There were hushed conversations in every corner, and a buzz of gossip seemed to bounce around like skittish electrons.
Dana went straight to her dressing room, where her recently assigned temp, Ashlee, was waiting for her. The girl was Dana’s third assistant, and she hoped it would work out. After her first one left, the HR department brought in an intern who was getting a graduate degree from NYU. Since it was Dana’s alma mater, they thought it would be a good fit. But Talia was so disdainful she managed to alienate everyone from the security guard to Sherry Zidel, who didn’t appreciate job tips from a twenty-four-year-old who thought a month in a creative writing MFA program made her the smartest one in the room. After she was fired, they brought in Ashlee St. Pierre, a leggy ex-pageant girl with wide cheekbones and a movie-star smile she highlighted with bright red lipstick. Dana could imagine her commanding the stage in all those competitions her mother pushed her into back home in Tennessee.
At first, Dana worried the girl wouldn’t take the job seriously. After all, it wasn’t too long ago that Dana had been in her shoes—an aspiring actress trying to stitch together a living between auditions. And she sure as hell wouldn’t have been a star employee. But things with Ashlee seemed to be working out. For now, she was technically a “floater”—on staff, but not assigned a permanent job. In another month, it would be up to Dana to decide whether to make Ashlee her official assistant.
“I’m sure glad to see you,” Ashlee gushed in her Tennessee accent. “There’s more gossip flyin’ around than backstage at a pageant.”
“What are they saying?”
“Some think Mr. Dennison took a swan dive off the roof to hurt the company image. Others think Mr. Honeycutt must’ve pushed him. There’s one rumor Eleanor Gratz was havin’ an affair with him and her husband did it in a jealous fit. I don’t know whether to scratch my ass or check my watch.”
Distracted by the colorful expression, Dana took an extra beat to process the information. She remembered what Eleanor had said about Ivan’s attitude toward older women.
“An affair?” she said to Ashlee. “Why would they think that?”
“I’m sure I don’t know. But I do not think that man
was faithful to his wife.”
This caught Dana’s attention. “Oh?” she said, prompting Ashlee to elaborate.
“I could swear he was flirting with me. He put his arm around me and said with a smile like mine I could be on the air. Said he’d buy whatever I was sellin’.”
God, the man was shameless.
“So what did you do?” Dana asked.
Ashlee waved it away. “Oh, I’ve dealt with hornier dogs than that, believe it. I just pushed him away and laughed like I thought he was joking. That usually does the trick.” She looked toward the door. “I think Miss Irini from wardrobe was looking for you. Should I let her know you’re in?”
“Thanks—tell her I’ll be ready in a bit. Could you also tell Sherry I’d like to see her after my show?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
A short while later, Dana’s segment producer, Jessalyn Grage, came in to go over the day’s program. She looked a little like Rashida Jones with darker skin and a fuller face, framed by soft coils of black hair that floated around her head like a cloud. An ambitious young woman, hypercompetent and laser-focused, she was hard to get close to. But Dana admired her, and was glad to see her promoted from talent coordinator. She deserved it.
“It’s Barlow and Ricci day,” Jessalyn said, referring to the line of handbags that usually sold well, despite the internet’s encroachment on fashion.
Dana nodded. She knew this had been on the schedule, and that any possible shifts in the Shopping Channel’s branding would take weeks if not months, as the buying was done pretty far in advance.
Jessalyn used the images on her tablet to review the styles and colors Dana would be pitching on her show, including info on which colors needed to be pushed the hardest. That part was always a delicate balance, because the purchasers bought more of the colors they assumed would be popular. But if Dana pushed those too hard, the rest could flatline. On the other hand, if she ignored those in favor of the less popular colors, the whole show could wind up with a bust.
After finishing the review, Dana asked Jessalyn what she had been hearing about the company.
Jessalyn shrugged. “All the execs are meeting with the board this morning, so maybe we’ll have an answer later today.”
Dana asked who was in the meeting, and Jessalyn gave her the rundown, which included Charles Honeycutt and Eleanor Gratz. Dana could imagine how hard they would be pitching the board to reject Ivan’s plan for a complete shake-up.
A few minutes later, Dana was alone in her dressing room with Irini, the wardrobe supervisor. She slipped into a quiet hunter-green midi-length dress and pulled on a pair of black boots. Irini had selected it as the kind of outfit that would showcase almost any handbag. Dana agreed—the woman had a great eye.
“Turn around,” Irini instructed, in her no-nonsense Greek accent.
Dana did as she asked, and Irini tsked. “Take it off,” she commanded. “It’s loose. I’ll baste some stitches into the back.”
Dana pulled off the dress, and knew from experience it wouldn’t take Irini more than two minutes to do her tailoring. Ashlee knocked on the door and poked her head in.
“Beg pardon,” she said, “but they want to see you in the boardroom.”
“Me?” Dana asked, feeling her heart speed up. She had never been summoned to the board of directors before, and couldn’t imagine what they wanted from her. It didn’t seem like it could be good news.
“Eleanor’s assistant called me. She said they need you for a few minutes.”
“I’m on the air in less than an hour and I still have to do hair and makeup.”
“Good excuse to get out quicker than a scared haint, then.”
Irini held the dress over Dana’s head, and she slipped it on.
“I’m sure it is nothing to worry over,” Irini said, as she signaled for Dana to do another twirl. She gave a nod, picked up her sewing kit and left.
Dana dashed to the elevator and up to the top floor, where she stepped out and looked at Brenda, the receptionist, behind her mile-long desk. She was a striking Black woman, with a model’s complexion and the crisp appearance of a TV news anchor. But like so many Shopping Channel employees, she was an aspiring actor.
“I’ve been summoned to the board meeting,” Dana said, trying to sound calm.
“I heard,” Brenda said, and pointed toward the hallway that led to the big corner conference room.
Dana smoothed out her dress and headed down the carpeted hallway, her heart rate rocketing. What on earth did they want with her? She thought about the new lease she had signed. Dana had worked it out so that she could retain her current apartment through the end of December—a full month after taking possession of the new place. It meant a massive outlay of cash, not just for rent, but for decorating. Of course, when she signed the lease, she hadn’t thought about the pressure, but the fun of strolling through furniture stores with Ari to design their perfect home. Now, it was nothing but pressure. And she knew that if the board of directors wanted to find a way to break her contract, they would.
She reached the conference room and gave a firm knock. A knock that meant business. Dana refused to show her fear.
The door opened, and the scene before her was like something from a movie. At least, that’s the way it seemed to Dana, who had little experience with corporate America before joining the Shopping Channel. Her resume was a series of terrible little stints strung together to help pay the rent between gigs. Jobs like waitressing, ushering and insulting teenagers at Hot Topic. For her, the word career had always conjured images of movie sets or curtain calls, not boardrooms.
Now, she stood before the Shopping Channel’s corporate power machine—twelve men and three women sitting behind neatly placed legal pads and water glasses at a long mahogany table polished to a high gloss. Every head turned to look at her.
“Thank you for coming, Dana,” said Eleanor Gratz. “I know you have to be on the air soon, so we won’t take too much of your time.”
At that, Dana noticed that there was more than a legal pad in front of Eleanor. There was a large blue box of Reluven products. She took a glance around to read the mood of the room, and could tell the atmosphere was strictly balance sheet. If there had been any mourning for Ivan Dennison, it had passed.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
“I was telling the board about our discussion the other day—how confident you are that you can sell skin care.”
So that’s what this was about. Dana had been brought in by the head buyer to sway the board. She let out a long breath. It was showtime, and Dana knew exactly what character she needed to play. She was now a woman who wasn’t intimidated by a roomful of people who had ice-chilled formaldehyde running through their veins and could destroy dozens of careers with the stroke of a pen. In fact, she was the boss. The alpha. She was there to school them.
She could do this.
“One hundred percent,” she said, adding a disarming smile.
“Can you share your thoughts on that? I’d like the board to hear it from you.”
I’ll do better than that, Dana thought. She approached Eleanor. “May I?” she said, gesturing toward the box.
“Please.”
Dana peered inside and pulled out the nighttime eye serum and daily moisturizer with SPF 30. Then she glanced around and saw a cart behind her that held a sweating pitcher of ice water.
“I’m going to need you all to use your imagination for a bit, and pretend we’re on the air.” She turned to the white-haired man who was closest to her. “Hold these for a second, will you?” She offered a smile that showed they were in this together. Buddies. He sheepishly put out his hands and accepted the products, then Dana turned and removed the water pitcher from the cart and placed it on the table. She pushed the cart in front of herself, and arranged the products on it.
Dan
a’s mind wandered back to her financial anxiety, and she breathed into it. She would use that energy. If she was ever going to sell her heart out, this was it.
She pointed to a spot in the middle of the wall of windows facing her. “That’s camera one,” she said, “and all of you are the viewers at home. Got it?”
They murmured their assent and Dana launched.
“I’m so excited to be introducing the Shopping Channel’s newest skin care line from Reluven!” She beamed, staring straight into the pretend camera. As always, she psyched herself into believing there was one person on the other end—her dearest friend. Someone she loved with all her heart. A woman who needed this very product to make her life complete. “I promise you, there is nothing like this on the market. Nothing that works this well at firming, toning and reducing fine lines.” As she spoke, Dana opened the jar of daily moisturizer and dipped her finger in several times to illustrate the richness of it. “We would have brought this to you years ago, but our standards are higher than anyone else’s, and we wanted to be sure the formulation was absolutely perfect.” She rubbed the product into the back of her left hand and held it up. “Can we get a close-up of this so you can see how quickly it absorbs and changes the texture of my skin.” She held her two fists side by side. “Look at the difference in my hands! Just look! And that’s after only a few seconds.”
The board members actually leaned forward as if straining to see magical transformation in Dana’s skin.
“And the best news?” she said. “This jar normally sells for seventy dollars on its own. But today we’re offering a special introductory price for our viewers of only fifty-five dollars!” She punched the price as if it were the most life-changing news a person could possibly hear. “And, we’re giving you the nighttime eye serum absolutely free as our gift! Normally, these products would cost a hundred and ten dollars, so you’re getting it for literally half the price.” She was pulling the numbers completely out of whatever part of her anatomy had the most imagination. “Plus, our Easy-Bucks option allows you to get it home for eleven dollars!” She laughed, as if the news were almost too wonderful to believe.
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