“This doesn’t mean you have a second chance,” I said. “But I’ll take the role.”
Chapter thirteen
Forrest
Ientered the theater the next day to pandemonium. Phantom of the Bloody Opera was a very campy musical I’d written in the 80s as a vehicle for Phee and every now and again I produced it again as a one-night show.
The Phantom was a vampire, he bit Christine, then Christine bit Raoul, and the whole thing ended with Christine killing them both. It was a real crowd-pleaser.
The 5th Street Theater wasmydomain. Covered in the softest red velvet, touched in pure gold accents, everything spoke of wealth and power. Everything spoke ofmypower.
And this production would be a success.If I had to make every single ticket sale myself.
“Father, you fired both our leading Christine and the understudy!” Hieronymus wailed as they wheeled the graveyard set pieces on stage behind him.
“Correct.”
“And you’ve hired Birdie to play Christine?”
“That’s right.”
“Daddy, this is going to be a disaster!” Paige cried hysterically, pulling at her ponytail. “Her with her. . .bedroom voice, why it’s just—just ridiculous!”
“Nonsense,” I said. “It’s going to be a smashing success. Don’t be idiots. Birdie being the star is going to drive ticket demand through theroof. You have a chance to direct the most buzzed-about production of this show ever. So treat your star well or I will be very displeased.”
They looked horrified.
“And all this because you’re fascinated—by that little—”
I turned slowly. “That little what?”
Paige pressed her lips together and put a cup of coffee to her lips. “Nothing.”
“Go on.”
“Well, everyone is too scared to say anything to you, but Birdie’s a—gold-digger!”
My teeth gritted together with rage.
“Oh really? Then why have I been throwingmillionsof dollars at her to get her to forgive me and she absolutely refuses?”
“Well—I—"
“You haven’t beensayinganything to Birdie, have you?”
“Of course not. You made it very clear we have to be nice.”
“If I hear either of you say one damn thing to Birdie that isn’t along the lines ofgreat singing, stepmother dear, I am going to disinherit the both of you.”
“All right, Daddy, all right,” Hieronymus said. “But there’s something you need to know. I don’t think Mother is going to take this quietly. I think she’s going to try to mess up the performance.”
I turned coldly.
“What? You two are going to tell me everything you know.”
It only took one glare before they were babbling out everything they knew: that Phee had begged both of them to try and stop thewedding, that she was incredibly jealous of Birdie, that she had put her understudy up to the scene at the bowling alley, that she was willing to do anything to make sure the production failed.
Fuck. Why had I ever thought this drama was amusing in the past? A 65-year-old man was too old for this shit. If I ever got Birdie back, she would know how much I appreciated her perfections.
