attention. He’s leaving town? Then one long part got through, “… he’ll handle our little friend till we can turn him over. You can trust him, sweetheart. He’s known about this (deeeet) him your number in case anything… (dooot)…” and the voicemail cut off.
She clutched the phone tight in her hand as she shut her eyes in frustration. She knew her grandfather was a pretty sharp cookie. So how the hell could an intelligent person screw that up so bad? She pictured him holding the phone out in front of his face while he talked, as if it were a walkie-talkie, his thumb accidentally pressing buttons. She tried calling him right back. He didn’t answer, and apparently he hadn’t set it up to receive voicemail, so she had no way to leave a message.
Next she called Phil.
She couldn’t tell Phil about her grandfather, and she was too exhausted to come up with a convincing story. She was ready to fall on her sword and get it over with. His outgoing message came on and her stomach twisted as she heard the beep. “Phil? It’s Madison. Look, I don’t know how to begin.” She hesitated. “You’ve probably been wondering what happened. It’s hard to explain, Phil, but you’ve got to believe me when I say how sorry I am for not showing up for the princess birthday party today, and if you…” ( beeep ) “Argh!”
She was about to call him back and finish her message, when her phone rang with Ethel Merman singing “There’s No Business Like Show Business,” meaning Phil had called her right back.
She hit the answer button. “Phil?”
In his signature street tough Boston accent, he said, “Chocolate Mint! How’s my gorgeous girl?”
This was a good sign. Phil was calling her by his pet name for her. Chocolate mint referred to her long black lashes surrounding her pale green eyes.
“Phil, you’re… you’re not mad?”
“Mad about what?”
“The gig. The princess birthday party that I no-showed. I’m so sorry, Phil. It’s been a hell of a day and—”
“Minty, you didn’t no-show. I put that message out to a bunch of you. Jen called back first, so I gave her the gig. Actually, you never called back at all.” Madison was confused. He gave a children’s party to Jen? From the stripper unit? Then she realized that she hadn’t completed the phone call to Phil last night because her grandfather had shown up at the door. But still. Jen? Ew.
He continued, “But I heard about your wrestling debut last night. I’m dying to meet that Atomic guy. And seriously, girl, you should have let me negotiate that for you. I could have got you more money, even after my cut. And you know that’s a fact.”
He would have demanded more, all right. He would have priced me right out of the gig.
“Oh, my God, Phil, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I almost showed up at the birthday party, in my costume and everything. If I hadn’t gone to visit my grand—” Shut up, Madison!
“Don’t worry about it. I made Jen promise no cleavage. I only put that message out because I needed someone fast. You, I prefer to save for the bigger gigs, you know?”
Don’t argue. Pretend you believe him.
He continued, “You know I like to keep you busy, girl.”
“Thanks, Phil. Have you heard back about the radio spot yet? They loved me at the audition.”
“Sorry, kid. They went with someone else.”
“Damn. I miss doing voiceover gigs. You used to get me so many.”
“I keep telling you, Minty, you’ve got to get yourself some audio gear. In-studio auditions, like that one, are hard to find now. Most of the auditions are done in the artist’s home, and sent as an audio attachment in an email.”
“That gear isn’t cheap, Phil. I can barely pay my rent. Maybe if you got me more work?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m looking out for you. You’re booked to do the Bumbling Waitress tomorrow at one o’clock, right?”
“Yeah. You already sent the gig sheet. It’s at Giovanni’s Restaurant.”
“Good. So,