Showbiz, A Novel (31 page)

             
“It is a regular iPad. Or, it was. I’ve simply souped it up to draw a lot more power and more bandwidth. Devices like these are going to be widely available any day now, and it’s going to be bad news for any place that relies on unlicensed bandwidth.” Lawrence’s eyes lit up when anyone gave him a chance to talk geek-speak.

             
“Like Broadway theaters!” Scarlett said. She’d heard inklings about the whole “white space” issue and had done some research a while back for some initiative that Margolies was working on with the Broadway League. But the practical ramifications hadn’t hit home for her before.

             
“Bingo,” Lawrence said. “It’s actually a wonder that something like what we’re doing hasn’t inadvertently happened already, just from someone walking by a theater.”

             
“That could really happen? Someone could knock out a theater’s wireless from the street?” Reilly asked in disbelief.

             
“It can and it will happen, unless the government does something about it. The problem is, the wireless companies are the ones who can afford to buy up all the unlicensed space for their devices. Theaters aren’t their problem.” Lawrence gestured again to the iPad. “I know you’ve heard about it on the news; it’s called
white space
.”

             
“Sure,” Reilly said. “I wrote a column for Journal when they pulled the
Phantom
stunt for the FCC, but I didn’t realize an iPad could knock out the wireless. I thought it had to be some bigger device.”

             
“Not if you know what frequencies they’re using,” Lawrence said proudly.

             
“How could you possibly know
that
?” Reilly asked.

             
Buff Jeremy leaned over and pretended to whisper in Reilly’s ear. “He hacked the system.”

             
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lawrence said with a devilish grin.

             
“Can’t Broadway just pull together some money and buy up some bandwidth?” Jersey Jeremy asked. It was a logical question.

             
“Even I’m not that rich,” Lawrence said. That gave everyone pause. “But our little plan will certainly jump-start the conversation in the industry. That’s for sure.”

             
“See?” Scarlett said. While it had taken her a while to come to terms with the whole scheme, she was thoroughly convinced it needed to happen. “We’re doing such a good deed.”

             
“Something like that. Margolies can be the example that fixes things for the rest of the business. Won’t he be thrilled.” Lawrence grinned. “Now, back to the agenda.”

             
“I was able to get a pair of opening-night tickets for our two secret agents on the inside,” Scarlett said, leaning over to her purse and handing a ticket to each of the Jeremys.

             
“Wow, everyone wants tickets to the biggest opening night of the year. You don’t mind if I sell these for cash, right?” Buff Jeremy joked. “How’d you score these?”

             
“You do not want to know,” Scarlett said with a crafty smile. It hadn’t been all that hard, actually. The intern was more than happy to help her, even though she hadn’t told him why and had sworn him to secrecy. She’d only had to give him gift certificates for a year’s worth of Dunkin Donuts in exchange.

             
“Do you have your tuxes ready?” Lawrence asked the Jeremys.

             
“Tuxes. Check!” they confirmed.

             
“Well, then, I say we reconvene on Thursday for a final rehearsal. Reilly, call us with any updates on Project
Banner
in the meantime.”

             
Scarlett and Reilly helped Lawrence clean up, even though he had “people” who could do it. The whole week had been surreal, and Scarlett was ready for it to be over. On one hand, she felt guilty about what they were about to do to Margolies; but she knew she couldn’t let him continue to keep Broadway in a strangle hold. She and the Jeremys, and all of the other up and comers in the city, had big dreams. If they wanted there to be any Broadway left in twenty years, something had to be done. And she knew that they might be the only people in a position to do it.

Scene 47

             
It was a double-header day of editor meetings for Reilly. While Scarlett and Lawrence were making final prep for Friday’s big event, he’d been tying up his own loose ends. First, a meeting with his reluctant ex-editor and now a sit down with with Candace’s boss, Tom.

             
After a brief phone call in which Reilly had indicated the general nature of his business, Tom had been more than happy to meet.
Happy
was probably not exactly the right word for it. He had been eager to hear what Reilly had to say. After all, Reilly was technically on staff at the
Banner
though, he hadn’t—and wouldn’t ever—officially start.

             
According to Tom, the fallout of the negative
Swan Song
review and Reilly’s appointment as critic had caused a bigger firestorm from readers and execs at the
Banner
than Reilly had guessed. Tom was getting pressure from the very top to do something about it, before the theater section of the paper imploded all together.

             
They had met in an out-of-the-way hotel lobby, so as not to be seen. Reilly’s third surreptitious hotel meeting in a month. Note to self, he thought: No more secret rendezvous in hotels…unless Scarlett is involved, he amended. Assuming she ever officially took him back. He’d settle for friendship, until she was ready.

             
His meeting with Tom had gone as well as could be expected. His disclosures about the Candace-Margolies-Kanter bribery scandal had been surprising and unwelcome news to the editor.

             
“I find this all very hard to believe,” Tom said, unconsciously snapping his suspenders. “I’ve known Candace for a long time. She wouldn’t do this.”

             
“You don’t know her ex-husband, then. If you knew him, you’d know what kind of power he has. She was simply no match for it.”

             
“So you’re saying she was forced into it?” Tom said. Reilly could see that he didn’t want to believe that Candace was a bad person.

             
“I’m sorry to say that she was in on it, too. After all, she rigged the contest and got me the job.”

             
That got a harrumph from Tom. “That’s for sure,” he said. “You have no idea how much everyone hates you.”

             
“Gee, thanks.”

             
“Just being honest,” Tom said. “It’s what I do. Or at least, what I thought I was doing.”

             
“So am I,” Reilly said. “And I’m really sorry to be telling you all this, but you needed to know.”

             
“You said on the phone that you had proof.”

             
“Just this.” Reilly handed him another copy of his email to Candace with the real
Swan Song
review, including the send date and time. “But I think if you go back and look at the vote tallies, as well as Candace’s phone records, you’ll find more than enough proof.”

             
Tom sighed and chewed his lip. “I appreciate you coming forward, Reilly. On behalf of the
Banner
, I’m sorry you got mixed up in this,” he said gruffly.

             
“Well, as I told Candace in my interview, I’m interested in integrity in journalism. I just didn't expect the firmness of my beliefs to be tested like this.”

             
“Harder than it sounds, apparently,” Tom said, folding up the review and sliding into his pocket.

             
“Just out of curiosity, who’s going to review
Olympus
?” Reilly asked.

             
“You just sprung this on me. I haven’t had a chance to figure that out yet. I hate to think what Candace might have had in mind.”

             
“We can only imagine,” Reilly said. He had a feeling that Candace had given it a lot of thought. He had gotten the distinct impression after his last few conversations with her that her feelings for Margolies ran deeper than any of them had imagined.

             
“You know, that woman finalist did a really great job," Tom continued. “Might be interesting to have a female critic for a change.”

             
As the editor got up to leave, Reilly stopped him. He’d had an idea on his way over.

             
“I know it’s not my place, but can I offer a suggestion?”

             
“Offer away.”

             
“What if you didn’t assign anyone to review
Olympus
. What if, just once, you left this to the bloggers and chat rooms. Maybe just open a reader comments page online and let all those readers, who didn’t feel heard after this critic contest debacle, offer their own reviews. Maybe leave it open through the weekend or even longer. Peer reviews at the
Banner
. Just an idea.”

             
“I’ll give it some thought,” Tom said, mulling it over as the two of them headed out the lobby door. On the street, they turned to say their goodbyes.

             
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this the day after you were selected as the chief critic, but you’re fired,” he said with a kind smile.

             
“You can’t fire me, I quit,” Reilly said, returning his smile.

             
They shook hands before going their separate ways.

Scene 48

             
Scarlett finished up her makeup with one last glance in her bathroom mirror. All dressed up and no place to go, she thought. That wasn’t entirely accurate, she knew. But her dress and makeup were probably unnecessary touches, considering she had no intention of leaving Lawrence’s car that night. He’d be at her apartment any moment to pick her up for the opening night of
Olympus
—better known as
D-Day
—for their big plan.

             
She heard her cell phone ring in the other room and she rushed to grab it, assuming it was Lawrence letting her know he was waiting in the car. Despite everything, it still felt weird to think that
Olympus
was happening without her.

             
“Hello?” she said.

             
“
What’s the story, morning glory
?
” sang her brother Colin cheerfully.

             
She felt surprised but thrilled to hear her brother’s welcome voice. “
What’s the word, hummingbird
?
” she sang back. It was a game they used to play for hours on family road trips. The goal was to have as long a conversation as possible using only lines from show tunes. Before he could return the parlay, she continued. “I’m actually on my way out the door. Can I call you tomorrow?”

             
“You can call me any time you want,
dahling
,” he said grandly. “I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t slit your wrists. Isn’t that monstrosity of a show by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named opening tonight?”

             
“You can say his name,” Scarlett said. “I’m not that fragile, and you know it.”

             
“You’re right,” Colin said. “I’m the delicate flower of the family.”

             
“I’m a little surprised you even remembered it was opening night for
Olympus
.”

             
“I didn’t,
dahling
, but it’s on national news.”

             
Colin had never cared about things like current events or politics. But if Scarlett ever needed the latest makeup trend, he was her man, so to speak.

             
“Since when do you watch the news?”

             
“Since this sad excuse of a drag bar won’t turn off the TV while we’re trying to rehearse for tonight’s show,” he said, raising his voice, making it clear he wasn’t complaining for her benefit alone.

             
She could hear someone telling him off with a string of good natured profanity.

             
“My talent is woefully unrecognized out here,” continued Colin with a wistful sigh. “I might just show up on your doorstep one of these days.”

             
“I wish you would,” Scarlett said, sincerely. It would be nice to have her brother nearby… and Colin would get a kick out of New York, she thought. “But right now, I really need to head out.”