Love Lyrics

by Mary Haskell Curtis

  Ashley was in a state that bordered on hysteria, laughing a little shrilly, talking too rapidly, jumping at the slightest noise. And Matt was in worse shape than Ashley.

  Amy patted Matt’s hand. “Calm down, now, you’ll choke on your food.”

  Matt dourly answered, “It’s better than being publicly executed.”

  “Matt, even if they don’t like your play, they don’t draw and quarter you.”

  “You wanna bet?”

  Ashley turned to Zach, her eyes so crystal-brilliant that Zachary was a little afraid that if she blinked, they’d shatter. “Zach, did I tell you your parents sent me a beautiful bouquet of roses?”

  “Yes, you did. Twice. And Emily sent you a bottle of champagne. Emily is far more enthusiastic about champagne than roses.”

  Ashley blinked, and Zach sighed with relief. They didn’t shatter. “Twenty-six relatives?”

  He nodded. “With instructions to clap loudly.”

  Amy grinned at him. “I swear, being with these two tonight is like sitting beside a couple of sticks of lighted dynamite. I hope you know, Zachary, that you and I will have to sit through the show without them. They’ll both pace through the whole thing.”

  “It will be my pleasure to have your company.” He meant it. Amy was a gem. And he couldn’t imagine anyone who’d be better for Matt. She was even-tempered, gentle, and had a good sense of humor. “Where did a guy like you find this nice lady, Matt?” He was glad he and Matt had become easy enough with each other to make that sort of teasing jibe.

  “I won her in a lottery. I had my choice of her or a weekend in Newark.” The smile he sent in Amy’s direction was the tenderest Zach had yet seen from Matt. “I’d marry her, but I can’t afford any more alimony.”

  Zach chuckled. “You don’t have very high expectations where marriage is concerned.”

  “Hell, no. Can you imagine a woman staying with me once she finds out what I’m really like?”

  “You have a point.”

  The conversation had stayed flip all evening. It was clear that it wasn’t the time for anything profound.

  The maître d’ appeared at the table. “Mr. Robbins, you wanted me to alert you when it was time to leave.”

  Matt stared at him in horror. “Oh, God.”

  The man’s smile didn’t waver. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  Amy had been right. Ashley and Matt barely lasted through the overture before they both got up to go to the back of the theater for what Amy had labeled the Stew Room. The theater was packed. Zach’s group of relatives, who had stopped in the lobby just long enough for a quick hello were seated a few rows behind. The applause was thunderous after many of the songs, and laughs, though subdued, were constant. Amy leaned over to inform him that preview audiences were often more sober than most. She’d obviously been involved in this long enough to develop a familiarity with the process.

  At the intermission, Ashley and Matt were surrounded by what Zachary could only guess were the “dear shits.” They were gushing over the musical, and their tones, as Craig had predicted, were warm and enthusiastic. By the end of the play, it was obvious that the audience had loved it. Zach joined Ashley, who looked as if she’d swallowed a five-hundred-watt bulb, and listened to one rave after another. When they finally escaped the crowd, they joined a group in Craig’s suite for a celebration drink. Craig stood in the middle of the room and said, “Allah be praised, we’re golden tonight! Now, here’s to the big one on Tuesday!”

  With cries of “hear, hear” all around, they drank.

  Ashley clung to Zach’s arm as though she’d fall flat on her face if she let go. He asked, “How’re you doing?”

  “Good. Real good. Oh, Zachary, if only the critics like it!”

  “Were they there tonight?”

  “No. That’ll be the Tuesday night ordeal.”

  Tuesday came so quickly Ashley would have sworn both Sunday and Monday had been canceled. She and Matt had worked nonstop on one of the songs in the first act that wasn’t working, and had once again revved up to a condition resembling St. Vitus’s dance. She tried to stay seated beside Zach, but she just couldn’t do it. All too soon, she was at the rear of the theater, walking back and forth, back and forth, in counter motion to Matt. It was another full house, and this group was more overtly approving than the Saturday-night audience. Laughter rolled over her in great, healing waves, and the applause at the end of the first few songs began to calm her fears. When the newly revised song was performed by Kelly, the audience went nuts. They clapped until Kelly, her face aflame with joy, gave them an encore. And at the end, everyone rose to their feet, calling out “bravo” as they beat their hands together. Matt appeared at her side, and in answer to demands from the audience, they went up on stage for a bow. Ashley felt she could have soared out above the crowd into the cold night air with nary a shiver.

  Zach watched the woman he loved, standing on the stage among the stars and the chorus and the dancers and the directors. Her smile threatened to split her face. He kept clapping, along with everyone else. He agreed with their reaction. It was a fine show, fun and upbeat and full of marvelous music. As he stood there, something new and unexpected happened. A deeply spawned, visceral feeling of pride rose in him. Ashley was, indeed, extraordinary. And she loved him as much as he loved her. He glanced around him at the joyful faces, realizing how much pleasure her talent provided to so many people. The pride grew and blossomed.

  And Zachary called, “Bravo!”

  Chapter Nine

  Ashley went home with Zachary that night, or rather, the following morning. By midnight, the euphoria over the audience reaction to the show had been superseded by the agony of waiting for reviews. Somewhere in the wee hours, euphoria returned to reign supreme. Zachary realized two things as he unlocked his front door and held it open for Ashley. First, he hadn’t been up this late in years, and second, he couldn’t remember when he’d had more fun.

  Ashley’s face was sore from so much smiling. She wavered as she stepped inside and Zach’s hand shot out to steady her. “Hey, lady, what’s this? A little too much champagne?”

  She laughed, a tinkling ripple of joy. “Not champagne, happiness. I’m giddy on happiness.” She rose to her tiptoes to bestow a kiss on his lips. “Can you believe those reviews? I should send a thank-you note to the critics. Those guys can be rough; Boston’s known to be a very picky town.”

  “Then that should make you all the more proud. It was fantastic, honey, it really was. Of course, I do think the highlight of the show was my song.”

  She giggled again, delight shining in her eyes. “I see you’ve become awfully possessive. Matt and I were getting some credit until tonight, but now I notice you’re taking it all.” Uncle Hermie had stopped the show with the “money” number. The song and the dance were perfect vehicles for his superb showmanship.

  “Listen, that’s one thing I learned from the ‘dear shits’ on Saturday night. How to grab a big chunk of the credit.”

  “Like who?”

  “For one, that agent, what was his name? Oh, yeah, Crocker. Actually, the name would fit him better if he dropped the last two letters. He was telling Craig that he was the one who suggested the idea to you and Matt about the immigrant kid whose uncle gets him into the country, teaches him English and makes him into a rock star.”

  “That jerk. He never had an original idea in his life, and if he did, I’d instantly discount it.”

  “I figured him for a phony. But he wasn’t the only one. From listening to all the comments, it’s amazing you and Matt had the nerve to put your names on the musical.”

  They were in the bedroom, and Ashley went straight to the drawer in which she’d left some clothes to get her nightgown. “Well, Matt and I are pretty cheeky, you know. We just pick up everyone else’s ideas and make them ours.” She laug
hed. “They all want to be part of a success. It would’ve been a different matter entirely if the show had flopped. Those people are experts at distancing themselves from failure. They’d all have sworn they hadn’t even talked to us for a couple of years, just to make it clear they had nothing to do with it.”

  “Doesn’t that kind of get to you, to have types like that in your business?”

  “Why? There’re jerks in every business. For every cipher in my field, there’s a hardworking, down-to-earth person to offset him. You must have the same problem, Zachary. There are an awful lot of real sleaze balls in the legal profession. But you can’t go around apologizing for your line of work just because others abuse it.”

  “You’ve got me there.” His mind had veered far from the topic. Ashley was stark naked, about to put on her nightgown. His voice dropped to a seductive tone. “Ah, you’re wearing your most becoming outfit. That luscious skin of yours sure fits you nicely.” He crossed to her and ran one finger up her arm, down her chest, across her breasts, stopping to circle each nipple. He chuckled at her gasp, a low, sensual sound. “You know, I turned on the electric blanket. You’d probably be warm enough in the raw.” His eyebrow rose suggestively. “And if you aren’t, I’ll help raise the temperature.”

  She put her hand behind her and let the nightie drop to the floor. “Umm, I feel it going up already.” She pushed closer to him, moving her body against his. “Strange, something else seems to be coming up, too.”

  “You have some wonderfully naughty instincts.”

  “You have a wonderfully responsive . . .” his mouth got the last word, directly.

  She wound her arms around his neck. “You’re being awfully slow getting those clothes off. Hurry up, I want to make wild love to you.”

  He ran his hands over her soft smooth body. “I certainly — ” he kissed her lips lightly “ — won’t fight that. Give me two seconds to shave, so I don’t whisker burn this velvety skin.” He kissed her deeply for good measure before heading for the bathroom.

  “Zachary . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “Be sure you don’t lose anything while you’re gone.”

  He gave a decidedly lascivious laugh. “Don’t worry, there’s no danger of that.”

  When Zach emerged, Ashley was in bed, lying on her side, with the covers pulled up under her chin. He turned out the light and slid in beside her. “Honey . . .” He curled his body around hers, burying his nose in her long, sweet-smelling hair. “I have something for you.” There was no answer. “I’m ready to be wildly seduced. In fact, I’m prepared to be more than cooperative.” He was still met by silence. Zachary eased his arm under her head and, with his other hand, turned her face to him. “Have you decided to play hard to get?”

  Ashley was sound asleep, her breath deep and even. Zachary, fighting pangs of frustration, sighed, pulled her closer into his embrace and settled down beside her. “Poor baby. You’ve had quite a day.” So had he, and it wasn’t long before he, too, gave way to slumber.

  It was close to two weeks later that Zachary’s parents had their Monday night party in Ashley’s honor. Ashley, who had been working with Matt practically nonstop on revisions, came from the hotel by taxi, accompanied by Matt and Craig. When they drew up in front of the town house, Craig said, “That was fast.”

  “I told you we could walk. You guys are so scared of using your feet.” Ashley slid out of the cab after Matt.

  Craig grunted. “You can get mugged just as easily in four blocks as four miles.”

  “Now Craig, this is Boston, not New York, and we’re in the best section of town.”

  Craig paid the tab and crawled out into the cold night air. “Humph. Where do you suppose the discriminating muggers hang out? They want a crack at the rich dudes.”

  Matt shook his head. “You’re not in your usual cheery mood, friend. Bad way to go to a party.”

  “Oh, I’ll get over it in a few minutes. I had to speak to Sammy again. He’s still trying to tuck it to Kelly. He can’t stand the ovations she’s been getting. If he weren’t essential to the show, I’d love to lock him in a closet somewhere and forget him.”

  Matt grinned. “Yeah, the one back in the corner of that wind tunnel we rehearsed in the first couple of days. No one’d go near it for weeks.” They’d reached the top of the stone steps. “Hey, dig all the brass. Someone must keep real busy shining it.”

  Ashley nodded. “The servants. The Jordans have family money and family antiques and family servants who stay for a lifetime.” She shivered.

  Matt put his arm around her. “Cold?”

  “No, nervous.”

  “You? Why, because you’re making a visit to the far right of the tracks? You don’t need to worry, babe. You’re famous. It buys just as much acceptance as all that family stuff. And you’re riding high right now, the special ornament on the top of the cake.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Don’t suppose, believe. Besides, Zachary doesn’t give one small damn about all that stuff. You know that very well.”

  She looked at him with interest. “I never thought I’d see the day. You and Zach are becoming downright chummy.”

  “Nice guy. In fact, two nice guys. No wonder we like each other.”

  Craig cleared his throat. “How about canning the TL’s and ringing the bell? It’s cold out here.”

  Matt started to press the buzzer, then stopped and looked at Craig quizzically. “What’s a TL?”

  “Something my sister used to drive me nuts with when we were kids. I don’t remember what it stood for, probably ‘trading lies.’ She’d come up and say, ‘I have a TL for you,’ which meant someone had said something nice about me. But before she’d tell, I had to think of a compliment someone had paid her. Drove me nuts.”

  “Then why didn’t you just tell her to buzz off?”

  “Could you pass up hearing a compliment when you were a kid?”

  Matt thought for a second and answered, “Hell no. In fact, I still can’t.” He pushed the doorbell.

  The door swung open almost immediately. A tuxedoed butler stood before them. “Good evening.” He stepped aside to let them in. “May I tell Mr. and Mrs. Jordan who has arrived?”

  Ashley took a peek at the mischievous expression on Matt’s face and stepped quickly forward. “Yes — ”

  Before she could go further, the butler smiled. “Why, it’s Miss Grainger. It’s been a long time. Welcome.”

  She managed a shaky smile. She could feel two sets of curious eyes burrowing into the back of her head. “How nice of you to remember, Charles. Yes, it has been several years.”

  “Let me take your coats, and I’ll announce you.” He looked at Matt and Craig, his eyebrows discreetly lifted.

  Ashley jumped in once again. “This is Craig Clarke, the director of our show, and this is Matthew Robbins, my musical collaborator.”

  “Welcome, Mr. Clarke, Mr. Robbins. I’ll take your coats and see you in.”

  As he turned to hand the coats to a uniformed maid, Ashley hissed at Matt. “I see that look in your eyes, Matthew Robbins, you behave yourself.”

  “Hey, babe, don’t sweat it. I’ll be so polished they’ll put me out front with the brass.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. The brass.” She frowned at his quirk of a smile, and turned back to Charles.

  “Would you like to take the elevator or the stairs?”

  “Elevator?” Matt’s eyes lighted up. “There’s an elevator in this place?”

  “Yes, sir. Right over here.”

  “Hey. Me for the elevator.”

  Ashley shot him a withering look. “Heaven forbid you should walk if you can ride.”

  “My sentiments exactly.” Matt, with an openly curious Craig beside him, stepped into the small, ornate elevator. Ashley, not wanting to complicate the arrival,
reluctantly got in beside them.

  Charles reached in to push the button for the third floor. “Have a nice evening.”

  Matt’s grin split his face. “Boy, this is shattering the hell out of my concept of Yankees. If this is keeping it close to the bone, there must a lot of prime rib in the cooler.”

  Craig punched his arm. “Keep your eyes open, Matt. Might learn something about real class.”

  “Listen, I’m not easy to intimidate. I’ve got a pretty fancy place myself.”

  “Yeah, but their furniture won’t still have the price tags on it.”

  “Listen, you two. Cut it out. Straighten your ties and dredge up any old Emily Post rules you remember.”

  “Emily who?”

  Ashley scowled at him again for good measure. Matt had that twinkle in his eyes that made him potentially dangerous.

  When they got out of the elevator, Zach was there to meet them. “Hello. Glad you’re here.” He kissed Ashley, his lips lingering for a tiny trace of a second longer than might have been deemed proper, then turned to Matt and Craig.

  Matt put up his hands. “Just a handshake, if you please.”

  Zachary broke into laughter. “Don’t worry, friend, that’s all you’ll get from me.”

  Ashley frowned. “Don’t encourage him, Zach, he’s in one of his moods. He’ll probably do something embarrassing before the evening’s over.”

  “Let me know when the time comes, Matt. I don’t want to miss it. Craig, welcome. Come in and meet my family. They’ve been anxious to see you.”

  The parlor was a huge room with high ceilings, two glittering chandeliers and tall windows richly draped with brocade. Even Craig, who’d been in a lot of fine homes, said, “Wow. This is really something, Zach. When Ashley said your folks lived in a condominium, I pictured something quite different. This is real old-world elegance.”

  Zachary nodded. “Actually, this is officially called a town house. It belonged to my great-uncle. When he passed on, Mom and Dad bought it from the estate. They were lucky it worked out. These places are becoming impossible to find. Most of them do end up converted into several condos.”