Tarzan & Janine (7 page)

“I can’t afford to blow this chance,” she said. “I’ve worked so hard to get to this point.” All the years of acting lessons and bit parts in plays should have amounted to something.

Kelly raised her pages. “Go ahead, shoot.”

Clearing her throat, Janine began, “Here’s your wine, William. Now perhaps we can discuss the
debacle at Deb’s Diner
.” Good Lord, what a tongue twister!

Kelly cleared her throat, filling in for William. “Why Linda, what debacle are you referring to?”

“You know perfectly well.” Janine turned away from Kelly like the script indicated. “What was I to think when you left during lunch, without a word or a clue?”

The door to the theater opened, interrupting Janine’s mini-rehearsal, sending butterflies in full force to invade her stomach.

A pasty-faced young man held the door. “Mr. Miller’s ready to begin auditions for Linda. Who’s first?”

“That would be me.” Janine raised her hand, battling the panic attack making her heart race and her vision blur.

“Well, come on,” he said impatiently then turned, entering the building without looking back.

Janine dove for the door, jamming her hand through the crack before it closed and locked. Once inside, she ran to keep up with the man.

Backstage was dark, with only the lights from center stage providing enough illumination for them to avoid tripping over boxes and wires. Too soon, they stood at the edge of the curtain. Janine fought the urge to grab the assistant’s sleeve to stop him.

The assistant halted and turned. “What’s your name, again?”

“Never said. J-J-Janine.” She stuttered, cleared her throat, and tried again. “Janine Davis.” There, that wasn’t so bad.

The assistant stepped out onto the stage. “Mr. Miller, the first actor is Ms. Janine Davis.” He turned toward her, blinking when he realized she hadn’t followed him onstage. A frown marked his brow and he gave her a beckoning wave.

Jerking into the light, Janine hurried across the stage and peered into the dark cavern of the theater, stage lights blinding her vision.

A disembodied voice shouted above the thundering beat of her pulse in her eardrums. “Ms. Davis, please read Linda’s first line in Act II, Scene 1. My assistant will read William’s lines.”

“Yes, sir.” She opened her script to the beginning of the act, her hands shaking as she clutched the pages high enough to read. After a deep, calming breath, she began. “Here’s your wine, William.” Handing an imaginary glass of wine to the assistant, Janine congratulated herself on a smooth first line. She hoped the butterflies in her stomach didn’t manifest themselves into upchucked bagel and orange juice before she got out her next line
.
“Now perhaps we can discuss
Simon and Garfunkel while Deb does Dallas
.”

The assistant’s head jerked up, eyes wide. Then he shouted with laughter, clutching at his sides.

Horrified, Janine darted a glance toward where the director sat before aiming a glare at his crazy assistant. “Why are you laughing?” she asked out of the side of her mouth, before again aiming a smile toward the lights.

“What you said...” The assistant snorted, pressed a hand into his side, and gasped for air. “Are you for real?”

Janine’s brows slammed together. “Of course, I’m for real. And please stop,” she whispered harshly. “What will Mr. Miller think?”

“Who cares? After you butchered that last line, it won’t matter.”

“I don’t understand.” Dread took the place of confusion. “What did I say that you find so damn funny?”

“Ms. Davis,” the voice from beyond the footlights boomed. “To put it politely, you didn’t say the lines quite as written.”

“I didn’t?” Janine swallowed hard on the lump forming in her throat. Dear God, she hoped this was all some big joke between the director and his assistant. She’d read the lines
exactly
as written. She wanted this part. Needed it. Winning the lead in a Hal Miller play launched serious acting careers. And she’d had enough of brainless beer and car commercials.

“No, you didn’t,” said the faceless Mr. Miller. “Next.”

The assistant hooked Janine’s elbow and tugged her toward the other end of the stage.

Janine dug her heels into the hardwood flooring. “Does this mean I got the part?”

The assistant shook his head. “Not today, honey.” His fingers tightened around Janine’s arm.

She shook free of his hand and faced the theater and the faceless Mr. Miller. “May I ask why I’m not getting the part?”

“No, but I’ll answer anyway,” he said, his words sounding snipped. “You’re simply not right.”

“Is it may hair?” she asked, lifting a hand to push her hair behind her ears. “I can cut it or die it. You name the color.”

“No, no, Ms. Davis. Your hair is fine. It’s
not
the hair.”

“Is it my voice? I can speak lower, if you like,” she said, lowering her voice to an unnatural alto.

A cough sounded. “I promise it’s not your voice. I want someone less...
flamboyant
,” he said.

“Is it because of the Pesky Motors commercial?” She hated the desperation in her voice, but couldn’t stand by and do nothing while her dream slipped through her fingers. “I won’t do any more of the commercials if that will help?”

“Oh no, I think you should continue to do them. Apparently, you’ve found your niche.
Stick to it.
Now, you’ve taken enough of my time, Ms. Davis. George, bring in the next actress, please.”

George cleared his throat beside her. His head tilted toward the stage door.

With humiliation burning her cheeks, Janine lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and swept off the stage. She made it all the way to her car before she broke down and had a good cry. Somehow, all this was Tanner Pesky’s fault, she just knew it.

* * *

“Tanner, old buddy.” Rip O’Rourke’s voice blasted through the phone receiver into Tanner’s ear. “I’ve got Gage and Jesse on conference call with me. We wanted to congratulate you on your commercials’ overwhelming success.”

Tanner scrubbed a hand through his hair. “You’re kiddin’ me, right?” He’d been up all night thinking through the fiasco of the live commercial and his swing into infamy the day before.

“Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen,” Gage’s voice piped in.

“I know, I almost spewed beer on my television screen when the monkey stole the girl’s top.” Jesse chuckled. “I’m thinking of hirin’ you and Janine to do all the commercials for my ranch supply chain. Should give us a huge boost in sales.”

“What did your dad think?” Gage asked, his voice casual.

Tanner sighed. “I haven’t talked to him yet.” He and Beans had snuck away after the press surrounded him.

“If he even has a spark of humor, the man’ll love what you did.” Jesse whistled. “And the banner swingin’ was over the top. Brilliant, if you ask me. All the Austin news programs were coverin’ it. What a coup for free advertising.”

“Thanks.” Tanner didn’t know what else to say.

“We want to know where you found the babe.” Rip cleared his throat. “And is she married?”

“Can I get her number?” Gage asked.

Tanner’s teeth clenched. “I met Janine at the hotel after my meeting with Barbara Stockton.”

“Oh yeah?” Jesse snorted. “How come you didn’t mention her when you were tellin’ us how the deal went sour?”

He’d told them about the failed deal and how he’d botched it, leaving out the embarrassing particulars relating to the mechanical bull.

“Buddy, you’ve been holdin’ out on us.” Rip laughed. “Can’t blame you though. That Janine is one hot hoochie-mamma.”

Anger spiked through his veins. “She’s not a hoochie-mamma, she’s a bonafide actress.”

“Emphasis on boner.” Rip laughed at his own joke.

Tanner’s jaw sagged and he held the phone away to glare at it. “Is that all you guys called about?”

“Yeah, we thought we’d cheer you up. The commercials are all the buzz.”

Trust Gage to bring the conversation back to what was relevant. Tanner’s irritation eased a bit.

“Be proud, dude.”

“I still want the babe’s number,” Rip said.

“Not gettin’ it.” Tanner’s jaw clenched.

“Let us know when the next episode of The Tarzan and Janine Show airs,” Jesse added. “Might have to call a meeting of the TBC at the local sports bar to watch it together.”

“Keep up the great work,” Gage added. “Later, man.”

Tanner hung up the phone and yelled, “Scott, tell Jill that if my dad calls, I’m not available. Tell him I’m out on the lot or something.”

Scott stepped in, with a wicked grin. “What’s the matter, Tarzan, Janine got your loin cloth in a wad?”

“Fuck you.” Tanner buried his head in his hands. “I can’t believe they caught all that on T.V.” He glanced up at Scott. “Now no one in Austin’ll take me seriously. How am I to make it in this business, much less show a profit in three months?”

“What a baby. Cheer up, Tanner, and read this.” Scott tossed the morning paper into the middle of his desk.

Tanner gave him a baleful stare. “Good God, it’s even in the paper?”

“Yeah, flip to the entertainment section. You’ll find yourself in all your glory.” Scott chuckled. “Not a bad picture of you and Janine.”

“You’re enjoyin’ this way too much,” Tanner grumbled, flipping through the paper. “The entertainment section? They could have at least put it on the front page, or the business page or even the sports section.”

“Why are you complainin’? I see it as free advertising. You should be thankful, instead of grousing about being humiliated in front of the entire city of Austin.”

Tanner glared at Scott. “Thanks, I feel much better.”

He turned his attention to the newsprint and the story on the front page of the entertainment section. The photo was of him swinging from the banner with the monkey sliding down behind him. The picture filled half the page, giving him a surge of hope. “Wow, that
is
good advertising. Look, you can even read Peschke Motors on the banner.”

“See, I told you to cheer up. It was a great stunt, if you ask me. You couldn’t have pulled it off any better if you’d planned it.”

“Which I didn’t,” Tanner muttered.

“Point is, the advertising is great and the public loved it. The phones have been ringin’ off the hook from all the media folks in the city. They want to know when they can expect the next episode of The Tarzan and Janine Show.”

His buddies in the TCB had said the same thing. Tanner cringed. “That’s a question I’d like to know myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t have Janine under contract. She may not agree to do another commercial. Not only that, I’ve got competition now.”

“What, is the circus in town?” Scott’s shoulders jerked with suppressed laughter.

Tanner gave him a blistering glare. “No. Old BS-Squared offered her a job and Janine didn’t refuse it. In all the ruckus, I didn’t get to her in time to firm up our deal.”

“Did she take the job with Ms. Stockton?”

“Not exactly.” Tanner blew out a deep gust of air. Did he really stand a chance against the beauty products maven?

“What do you mean, not exactly?”

“Just that, Janine didn’t say yes or no. She said she’d think about it.”Tanner’s desk phone buzzed and he jabbed a finger at the intercom. “ I told you not to disturb me.”

“No, you didn’t, and your father’s on line two, Mr. Peschke,” came the calm voice of Jill, the receptionist.

“But I don’t want to talk—”

“Tanner, is that you boy?” Joe Peschke’s voice boomed over the intercom.

The
boy
in question leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezing shut, trying to block out the nightmare that was his life. “Yes, sir, it’s me,” he answered, schooling his voice to flat and emotionless. Might as well get the lecture over with. Dad would go on about how inadequate he was at this business and Tanner would promise to try harder.

He really should tell his dad about his billions, then the old man wouldn’t look at him as such a failure. But how would that make the old man feel? He’d worked hard teaching Tanner the business and took pride in the fact his son would one day take over the dealership.

Tanner braced himself for the blasting.

“Way to go, son.” Joe Peschke’s big voice blasted over the speaker phone.

Huh? Tanner’s eyes opened, and his hand fell to his side. Was this his father, praising him? Tanner frowned across the desk at the lead salesman.

Scott mouthed,
Told you so
.

“I knew you had it in you, son. You just needed the right angle. And boy, does that young lady have all the right angles.”

“But, Dad—”

“For once your aptitude with the ladies has paid off.” His father was on a roll now and couldn’t be stopped. “That Janine is a gold mine. You were real lucky to find her.”