At the sight of the man in the photo at the top of the article, a giant pit forms in my stomach, but I power through the text.
Renowned Broadway director Taron West was abruptly dismissed from the popular traveling production ofMamma Miaafter multiple allegations of bullying and harassment.
Several present and past cast and crew members have come forward, claiming that West made demeaning comments about actors’ weights and appearances, pressuring them to meet unrealistic standards.
A current cast member who wished to remain anonymous said, “[Taron] would scream at women in front of the entire cast and say they weren’t ‘cut out for Broadway if [they] couldn’t lose the weight.’”
West has yet to comment publicly on the allegations. His wife, Diane, did not wish to comment on his behalf.
“Wasn’t he the director you told me about?” Sasha asks.
“Mm-hmm.”
She slumps in her seat next to me.
When my phone powers on again, a voicemail notification from anUnknown Callerpops up.
“Ms. Greer, this is Diane West. I think you know my husband. I’d like a word with you. It’s time sensitive, so please call me back immediately.”
44
Ezra
“DUDE,I haven’t heard from her, and every time I call, it goes straight to voicemail. She never charges her fucking phone. I’m kinda freaking out.”
It’s been hours since Millie’s show ended, and I can’t get a hold of her. Would it be overbearing to ask her to share her location so I can track her like I do Kane? Probably.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Cam says. “Hold on. Joey just walked in. Let me see if she knows anything.”
Pacing my apartment, I hold the phone to my ear and wait for his response. “Jo says she’s on a flight.”
I exhale loudly. “Fuck, I forgot. I can’t keep up with her schedule.”
“I’m sure she’ll call you when she lands.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Despite my words, I can’t help but feel like that might not be the case. We left things on a sour note, and it’s killing me that I haven’t had the chance to explain my reaction yesterday. Between my exhaustion and the way she was pushing me, I was concerned I’d stick my foot in my mouth and make mattersworse. This long-distance thing is wearing on me. I miss my girl.
The phone vibrates at my ear, and I pull it back to look at the screen. “Finally. It’s her.”
Cam wishes me luck, and with a quick thank-you, I tap the screen and accept the call.
“Millie?”
“Hey.” She sounds out of breath.
“Listen, I’m?—”
She cuts me off with her own “I’m sorry.”
“No,I’msorry, honey. I feel awful for making you think I was breaking up with you. I would never?—”
“I know. I know. And I’m sorry for pushing you. You told me you were tired and wanted to table the conversation, and I should have listened.”
My heart hammers as I soak in her words and her gentle tone. “I miss you.”
“I miss you so fucking much, Ezra.” The authenticity in her tone makes my chest squeeze.
“Where are you?”
