That snake!
“What’s the background noise?” McCartan asked.
“What do you mean?” Benedikt asked.
“When they played the audio, there was like fighting noises or something.”
“The audio was enhanced to make it clearer before sending it to TheBraodway411,” Eldridge said.
“Yes, but how did you get it?” McCartan asked.
“It was easy. I threatened the woman who runs the site. She sent me the recording.” Eldridge met my eyes. “The young woman tried to stall, but once I had my lawyers,” she nodded in Benedikt’s direction, “threaten her a few times. She folded quickly.” At that moment, I envisioned Eldridge scheming to get 101 Dalmatian puppies to make herself a nice fur coat. She relished watching me squirm.
“We expect Ms. Saunders to be paid for the work she did through last night and get credit in thePlaybillfor having created the character,“ McCartan said, turning the conversation back away from Eldridge.
“We thought that might be your reaction.” Weiss played another recording clip of me discussing the show and its content. “This is an obvious violation of the NDA. If you push us, we’ll take Ms. Saunders to court. I seriously doubt she has the funds in reserve to hire a lawyer to fight this case.” McCartan nodded. “We will pay Ms. Saunders through last night, but we will omit her in any materials associated with Naughty List Productions going forward.”
“This would include any mention of the show on her bio,” Benedikt added. “This is a hard cut with the company. If these conditions are not met, the company reserves the right to sue Ms. Saunders for breach of contract.”
I looked at McCartan. “Can they do this?”
“Yes,” was all he said back to me. “All things considered, they’re letting you off scot-free.” He shook his head before adding, “You know better, Erika. I’m stunned.”
“I did nothing wrong,” I said for the first time, feeling some sense of my usual moxie rising.
“Please don’t bother with any explanations,” Benedikt said. “You were a valuable member of this company, but we simply cannot keep you on staff after the inherent violation of trust from your actions.”
Well, at least he was living to his first name. My own Benedict Arnold was in the room. A few minutes later, Benedikt produced a stack of papers and had me sign them. Both McCartan and I looked at every sheet before I signed and moved on to the next.
When I finished signing, Vladislav Nicolai showed up and escorted McCartan and me to my dressing room. Someone had already gone through and boxed up the few personal items I had. I had been more focused on the show than on decorating. I kept hoping that I would have more time to decorate once the show opened. Sadly, my entire life fit into a single cardboard box.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I said to McCartan.
“Why did you do it, Erika?” McCartan said, looking at me. “This is the type of error I expect from one of my younger clients…not a seasoned pro like yourself.”
“Despite what you may have heard on the audio recording, I did not talk to the press.”
“Oh, really?” McCartan said to me skeptically. “So, you’re telling me that what I heard with my own two ears isn’t real?”
“I don’t—“
“Just don’t, Erika.” He looked at me, shook his head and sighed. “Be glad they aren’t taking you to court.” Tears welled in my eyes. I forced myself to breathe deeply because I would not cry in front of this man. “I don’t know what will happen next. Equity will hold a disciplinary hearing at some point. I’m disappointed. As hard as you’ve worked to get back on Broadway, you threw it all away by talking to a gossip blogger.”
He didn’t wait for my response. He left my dressing room. With both boxes in hand, Nicolai escorted me out of the building. He at least took pity on me and led me to the alleyway entrance so I could avoid having to see anyone in the cast.
Once I was out in the cold air, the waterworks started. In all honesty, I’m amazed I got home with all the water streaming from my eyes. I made it to my apartment, set the boxes down inside the door, and bawled like I hadn’t cried in years. After an hour of my personal pity party, I picked up my phone and texted Brice.
I was fired. I don’t want to talk about it yet. I’ll call tomorrow.
A string of texts was already coming in from my castmates, but I didn’t want to deal with them. Instead, I put on my coat and went walking around the city. I walked around for an hour before finding myself on 5thAvenue, standing in front of Radio City Music Hall. There was an eleven o’clock showing of the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, so I bought a $90 ticket in the nosebleed section.
I sat in anticipation, reading thePlaybillwhile waiting for the show. The audience was surprisingly packed for an 11:00 a.m. performance on a Friday. Tourists started pouring into the city at Christmas time to get their shopping done. For the past couple of years, I’d tried to avoid leaving the house on Fridays and Saturdays during the holidays to avoid the crowds.
I flipped through the program, waiting for the show to begin. I recognized a couple of people in the show and was genuinely glad to see they had work. When the lights dimmed, I cried again. Thankfully, I wasn’t ugly crying this time. I had a waterfall traipsing down my cheek for ninety minutes.
When the show was over, I turned my phone back on. There were a ton of texts. A few of them had links to newspapers and bloggers’ sites. Asher sent me a link to Michelle Bouvier’s article inThe Post. I wanted to ignore the link, but I wouldn’t let myself get away with pretending it wasn’t there.
“Erika Saunders was fired today fromThe Naughty List. Cast members, who wish to remain anonymous, have confirmed that Saunders was fired under highly dubious circumstances. Saunders was fired for a breach of contract. She allegedly had contact with bloggers at Broadway411 who used the information to publish content on their website that was proprietary by the production. I’ll update this story as more information becomes available.”
