Free Showbiz, A Novel by Ruby Preston

went over to the couch and sat down facing her. He was getting somewhere now. So close, the smell of bourbon on her breath disgusted him. “You can still make sure the right guy gets the gig.”
                  She started to protest. He refilled her glass.
                  “I’ve done well these past few years. I can cut you in this time. Think about it. Put it away for retirement. Maybe get a place in Florida.”
                  He could see her considering the proposal.
                  “I don’t see how it could work. The public will vote.”
                  He always did have to spell things out for her. How she held onto her editor position, he had no idea—sheer force of will with a healthy dose of longevity, he imagined. The spark and drive she once had was now dulled by years of drinking.
                  “But who is selecting the top candidates?”
                  “I am.”
                  “And who is collecting the votes?”
                  “Me and my staff.”
                  He could see that his point was finally sinking in. “Bingo.”
                  She stood up and paced the room.
                  “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem right.”
                  “ Now you have a conscience? This is a win-win, Candace.” He stood up, set her drink on the coffee table, and took both her hands. He needed to convince her. He hadn’t sacrificed everything to get where he was only to have it all fall apart now. “Just do this one last thing for me, and I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life. Don’t you want that?”
                  She hesitated, but she seemed to be seriously considering his plan. He hadn’t lost his touch.
                  She wrapped her arms around him and he stroked her hair as he calculated exactly how long he’d have to stick around.

Scene 14
     
                  The Margolies office was quiet the next morning. Scarlett had arrived later than usual, but Margolies wasn’t in yet. She vaguely remembered that the intern had taken the day off.
                  Margolies was likely over at the theater across the street. Rehearsals for Olympus were starting to get intense and Margolies was spending more and more time there, terrorizing the cast and crew in an effort to make sure his ambitious visions for the show were fully realized, as well as ensuring the already-astronomical costs didn’t get further out of hand.
                  Scarlett was supposed to be finalizing invites for the media event/investor reception she was organizing for the next month, a sort of “go team” event designed to build even more buzz around Olympus . But her thoughts kept straying to her date last Friday. If she wasn’t careful, she could fall hard for Reilly. They had unmistakable chemistry and had practically closed down the restaurant.
                  Remembering their goodnight kiss, or more accurately, good night kisses, as he put her in a cab home, was enough to stir the butterflies in her stomach again. Scarlett had been accused by more than one potential suitor in the past that her love affair with Broadway didn’t leave room for a boyfriend. For better or worse, when it came down to it, her career had always come first. There was no arguing with the fact that Broadway was an all-consuming, twenty-four-hour-a-day lifestyle choice.
                  With Reilly, however, it was different. He had the same passion for showbiz that she did. Instead of putting them at odds with each other, it was clear after one date that their mutual devotion to theater only brought them closer together. The only thing stopping her from falling into pure bliss was the nagging suspicion that there was more to the rigged review story than Reilly had revealed. Could