by Imani King
And I don’t. This crowd is beyond me.
As if sensing her apprehension, Carson looked down at her. His blue eyes were kind. “You’re the most beautiful and talented woman here,” he said softly in her ear. She didn’t know what to say. “So knock ‘em dead.”
“Ok. Ok, will do.” A smile came upon her face. He’s right for hiring me - this is an acting job. This is just another performance. And I have been learning to perform all my life. But this time I am performing for my own career, improvising for an audience who can take me to the heights I need to reach as an actor. “Thank you for bringing me.” She smiled with a genuine warmth. Perhaps his intentions are pure.
“It’s my pleasure. Please believe that.” They walked over to their table, at the front of the room near the dais. “Hey, did I mention I have to give a speech? Believe me it’s one of the ones that I am hoping will be short.”
“You don’t know what you are going to say?” She looked at him wide-eyed, yet somehow sternly. He laughed in response.
“Well not exactly. I have a speech written out but I really want to cut out about half of it. Brevity is the soul of wit, as they say.”
“As Shakespeare said,” Jayne gently corrected him, “in Hamlet. But it’s a bit ironic –that guy was the least brief of all! Talk about a prolific writer of his time, and of any time.”
“Good catch,” Carson looked impressed. “You’re fast. Where did you go to school?”
“For drama? Nowhere, really. I just studied on my own, and went to Community Theater. It’s always been in my blood, but we didn’t have the money to send me off to college, and I had to help my mother with my brother and sisters so there wasn’t much chance of me getting a job to pay for it myself. So I just did what I could, got all the experience I could, and then went from there.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Thanks.”
“I really admire that kind of drive, passion. Determination. Where are you from originally? You don’t sound Brooklynese.”
She laughed. “East coast.”
“Got it. I won’t press,” he winked. “Well it looks as though they are going to start the dinner anytime now. Would you like to sit down?”
“Love to.” He firmly put his hand on the small of her back and directed her to her chair, pulling it out for her. His touch made her a little lightheaded, and if she were honest, a little aroused. But she was there as a companion, an acting job. No need to get excited, she told herself as sternly as she had faced him about his speech. He loves the theater, and young talent. And that’s it.
Chapter 5
In the morning, she laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, aimlessly watching the ceiling fan as it rotated. “This is Jayne Massie,” she remembered him saying. “A very talented young artist. One to watch. She works through FG Agency…” “I’d like to introduce Jayne Massie. An up-and-comer to remember.” He brought her around to each of the biggest impresarios in the city, making sure they knew her name. For a young black actress, this was invaluable. He must have known that. It was hard enough to get roles in plays that were for black actors, never mind breaking into predominantly white works. She wondered how much influence he had, if it would lead to anything. And if so, what he might expect in return.
And what she might want to give him, out of desire. He was really handsome, and the look in his eye as they talked, of genuine attention, interest, sometimes even bordering on devotion, gave her a bit of a chill. It was so nice to be heard, to be taken seriously, but someone whom you had become to admire.
By the end of the night she had almost felt like a fairy tale princess, being escorted around the ball by the handsome suitor, except she knew that there was a big probability that this was all business. Still, he was the richest person in the room. What did he need with more? Could it be, though, that he had liked her, in that special way, and that’s why he wanted to take care of her? Her thoughts grew dark. Of course it’s also possible that he liked her in a very un-special way, and wanted her to become obligated, indebted to him, so that she would be forced to appease him if she wanted to work. It was difficult. One minute she was over the moon, the next she was six feet under, it felt like.
The phone chirped beside her. It was a text, from her agent.
“You got it! You’re Ariel in the all-black Tempest! You are the storm bringer!”
Tears leaked down the sides of her face, as the ceiling fan turned round and round.
Chapter 6
“Hey I made coffee do you want some-” Ella came in to see Jayne silently crying on her bed with the phone in her hand. “Oh, you didn’t get it?” She said sympathetically, expecting the worst. “Are you ok, I made coffee…”
Jayne just looked at her. Finally she burst into simultaneous laughter and tears. “No,” was the only recognizable word she got out.
“No coffee? But you always have coffee!” cried Ella, making Jayne laugh even harder. She was a mess.
“Wine?” said Ella. “I know it’s 10 am, but hey, who’s counting?”
“Noooooo,” moaned the laughing crying Jayne. Finally she stumbled off the bed and handed her the phone, unable to say any words.
Ella looked at it until Jayne grabbed it again and brought up the text. “You’re Ariel! Shut up! You’re Ariel?” She grabbed her arms and danced her around until they were both chanting “Ar-i-el! Ar-i-el!”
“This calls for a celebration. Put some pants on and get your coat, we are going for brunch. On my credit card!” cried Ella, and Jayne blubbered assent.
When they got to the restaurant, Ella was incredulous. “So hang on a bloody second here.”
“When did you become British?” laughed Jayne.
“Just this minute. Only British English should be used for something so fabulous,” said Ella staunchly. “So to get this straight, you not only got the part in the big All-black Shakespeare production of The Tempest, but you also went on a date with a billionaire?” She was agog. “I can’t believe it.”
“I know.” The words came out a little like a sob.
“Don’t you start crying again girl, we had enough of that. Table for two please.”
The hostess took them in, settled them with coffee and menus, the latter of which got dismissed immediately in favor of conversation.
“Who is this guy?”
“Well, he’s the main backer for the play-”
“Wait a second you don’t think-”
“I don’t know, it could be-”
“What if it is? How will you know for sure?”
“Well I guess if he tries to sleep with me,” Jayne finished.
“How did he treat you on the date?”
“Uh, pretty much like gold,” she admitted.
“Well that’s a good start. What do we know about this guy.”
“Not much, just that he got a lot of his money through his own effort. He started with old money, but he took it and parlayed it, whatever that means, into his own fortune.”
“Yeah, yeah, but does he have a good heart? Is he a player? I bet he’s a player,” Ella said. “You be careful. I don’t want to see you crying for any real reasons.”
“I know.” She stirred her coffee. “It’s all too much at once anyway. I can’t do this play and be freaking out about some guy.”
“Exactly, Jayne. You need to think about yourself right now.”
“True. My dream could be coming true. They might have given me this chance, but what happens after that needs to be all mine. Not due to some kind of entitled rich young white dude who is slumming it with actresses.”
“Girl, hanging around with you is hardly slumming it. You are probably the most hard-working, wise, strong, pure people I have ever met, and probably will ever meet. You deserve it. Hell, you deserve that billionaire. What we don’t know is if he deserves you.”
“You’re far too kind to me, sometimes.”
“You deserve kindness. You should read some of those self-help books sometim
e. Just realize that everyone deserves kindness and love, even Miss Jayne Massie.”
The waitress came back. “You ladies know what you want?”
“I’ll just take the best thing,” said Ella. “Whatever you think is best, give me that thing.”
“Make it two.”
“Sounds good ladies. Two eggs Florentine on a potato cake with smoked salmon on the side coming right up.”
“Sounds fancy,” Jayne smiled.
“Only the best for us. From now on,” Ella said. “Ariel from The Tempest! Why don’t you add some mimosas on there as well,” Ella said, turning to the waitress with a silly grin.
“Sure thing, ladies.”
“There’s one thing though, I guess. He never called it a date.”
“The billionaire?”
“Nah. He framed it like he was doing me a favor for my career. Which, he was. But he treated me very nicely all through the evening, as if it were a date, so I don’t know.”
“How did he introduce you?”
“Jayne Massie, an up-and-coming talent, that sort of thing.”
“I see.”
“Plus, he hired me through the agency, so that’s not really a date either.”
“Yeah, that’s odd. But it was for an industry event,” she pondered. “A dinner, right?”
“A dinner he had to make a speech at.”
“Wow. Yeah, that is confusing,” Ella said. “But he might have been trying to impress you.” Her eyes suddenly brightened. “How did he treat you at the end? That could give us some clues. Was there a kiss? Did he shake your hand?”
“Yeah, that was the thing. There was a moment, where he was looking at me and I thought, here it comes. But then it didn’t come. We had just been talking about some uh, I don’t know, personal stuff, and then we looked at each other and time kinda, well, stood still. And then it seemed like he was going to kiss me, and instead, he just put his hand on mine and thanked me for a lovely evening. And so I got out of the limo.”
“Ok, personal stuff, date. No kiss, not date. Touches hand, lovely evening, date?”
The mimosas arrived and the girls took long thoughtful sips.
“Exactly. I guess we’ll just wait and see,” said Jayne finally.
“Damn billionaire better get off his ass and ask you out for real,” said Ella, grinning. “Soon you won’t have time for these shenanigans. When do you start rehearsal?”
“Pretty soon I guess, but no schedule yet.”
“That is so badass. Ariel from The Tempest! My friend, Jayne!”
“It is badass, isn’t it.” Jayne said wonderingly.
“Damn right it is!” She grinned triumphantly. Then her face darkened again. “But, back to the billionaire – did you give him your number? Or get his?”
“No!” A stricken expression appeared on Jayne’s face. “I should have,” she moaned with her head in her hands. So many regrets. She didn’t want to admit to Ella that he said it was to make up for putting her in such an awful position either, for overhearing them at the restaurant. That would have to wait for the mimosas to take effect.
Chapter 7
A day later, Jayne got home ready to practice her lines, when she found an engraved invitation in her mailbox.
Dear Jayne,
Your presence is requested at the Obie Awards, celebrating the New York Stage.
What? She thought. Is this because of Carson’s intervention, or is this because of my role in the Tempest, or what? She scanned the rest, but all there was was logistics and some industry promotion.
But of course I’ll go. Either way. I just want what I build to be due to my own dedication, my own strength. Not to be handed to me by some super-rich dude who thinks he can buy me a career.
That’s not fair, she told herself. He’s been nothing but a gentleman.
The party was this weekend. She supposed she was more likely squeezed in after some RSVPs didn’t work out. After all, it was not ok in this industry to have empty seats at rewards shows, and as such, they went through lists of A, B and C celebrities, and artists, and if that didn’t pan out, then they would even hire young actors to take the spots. So she figured with the lateness of the invitation she was right before extras.
Still it would be a good opportunity to be seen by, and to see all those people who were successful in the industry. She wondered if Carson would even be there. Would he attend such an event? In any case, she spent a little of her bank account to book a hair appointment. She’d have to borrow a dress from an actress friend, or buy something new. Maybe even rent a dress from an online service if she could rush something. She told herself she wasn’t dressing to impress Carson, but the thought of what he would think of her, what the expression in his eyes would be when he first laid eyes on her, was always under the surface of her thoughts.
First things first, get a dress. Maybe her agent would have some ideas? She texted her.
Linda. Need dress for Obies. Any ideas?
Right away, something back.
I have a designer who might make u something as long as u tell people its her design
AWSUM
Will send u her contact info if it’s a go
Jayne jumped around the room, thrilled. Not only would she get a dress, but it would be made for her body, for her skin tone. What color should it be? She ran to her closet, holding dresses, shirts, everything up to her face, and judging the results.
“What’s going on in there? Ella called, just finishing her piano practice for the time being.
“I might get a dress made for an awards show, and I’m thinking about the color!”
“Girl all you’re gonna need now is a glass slipper!” They both laughed. Ella is a true friend. And she’s right. I do feel like Cinderella.
“So what do you think?”
“Maybe you should do a teal, like Lupita Nyong'o’s dress at the Oscars. That would look great against your skin tone! Ooh! That would be great!”
Jayne’s phone beeped.
Dress is a go. Be at her studio in an hour. Address to follow
“Ahhhh! I do hope she has some glass slippers on hand. Do you want to come with me?”
“I can’t,” said Ella, sadly. “That Rachmaninoff is not going to practice itself, I’m afraid. And I have a lesson this week! But it sounds like you are in good hands. How ‘bout we do mani/pedis before the show?”
“You’re the best! Of course you need to work, I totally understand. No problem Ella!” She hugged her friend. “I hope I’ll come back with some good news. You want me to pick up some Thai on the way home for us? It’s the least I can do with how supportive you’ve been lately…”
Ella looked doubtful. “You mean it?”
“Of course, you gotta eat, right?”
“Ok, it’s a date! Maybe not as fancy as with billionaire man, who I totally think likes you by the way, I’ve been mulling it over… and no red-blooded dude is that altruistic!”
“I’m feeling a bit not-altruistic when it comes to him as well,” smirked Jayne. “Girl, I gotta get mine!”
“And you will! Go get that Carson Weeks!”
The address text came through, so Jayne grabbed her bag, threw some heels in it, and ran out the door. “See you with Thai food in a few hours!”
“You know I want that green curry!” yelled her friend, before ripping into the concerto one more time.
Chapter 8
She checked the address. As was expected, she was in the garment district, but this looked as sketchy as could be. She buzzed the intercom. A man’s voice answered.
“Is that you Miss Fabulous Jayne Massie?” said a flamboyant male voice.
“Um yes?”
“Get your ass up here girl!” A loud buzzer sounded and Jayne pulled the door open quickly. I thought Linda had said it was a woman. Maybe she had an assistant?
When the door opened she was faced with the most fabulous creature she had ever come across, and being in the theater, that really meant some
thing. Despite all appearances pointing to the fact that she had been born a man, her dress style was on point, and she had cheekbones for days, not to mention a pink wig that was also looking fierce.
“I’m Montay,” said the gorgeously feminine creature. “So nice to meet you Jayne Massie! I have heard a lot about you and your big ass talent!”