In Harmony(106)

“Marty,” I said warily. “That sounded ominous. Did you get more news from the city council? Bad news?”

He chuckled. “As if I’d tell you something like that twenty minutes to curtain. No, I merely—”

Frank, the stage manager ran up to Marty looking pale. He whispered something in his ear, his eyes on me.

Martin’s eyes widened and then darted to me as well.

“What?” I said. “What is it?’

Marty’s face smoothed out and he said to Frank in a calm tone, “I’ll be there in a minute. Thanks, Frank.” He turned to me and patted my shoulder. “A theater manager’s job is never done, even on opening night. I’ll be right back.”

“Marty,” I said, grabbing his hand. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about. I promise.”

I would’ve believed him. He was a fantastic actor. But Frank was not, and Frank looked as if he’d seen a ghost.





Isaac



Frank let me into Marty’s office, then ran out to tell him I was here. I settled in to wait, feeling like a student sent to the principal’s office: about to get my ass handed to me. These consequences would be far worse than detention. Marty was probably pissed mad as all hell. Who was I kidding—he was hurt.

I leaned against the desk in my expensive jeans and black jacket and tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal. Like I had some kind of upper hand. Then Marty burst in, red faced and breathing fire. Anger crackled around him; I’d never seen him so pissed off in my life. And though I’d expected it, seeing so much outrage in Martin Ford was unsettling.

“Three years,” he said without preamble, slamming the door behind him. “Three years without a word. Not one. You showing up for your father’s funeral doesn’t count. You said nothing to me then. You’ve said nothing to me since.”

“Marty,” I said. “I’m sorry—”

He took a step closer, his finger stabbing the air at me. “And don’t get me started on Brenda or Benny or Willow.”

I gritted my teeth. “I know, I’ve been—”

“And now you just show up in my office fifteen minutes before I go onstage? What the hell, Isaac? Want me to hold the curtain so we can get a cup of fucking coffee?”

He stared at me, his jaw clenching. For a moment, I thought he’d have me hauled out of the building. Hell, maybe call the police. Or simply plant a foot in my ass and kick me to the street. As he took two steps toward me, I sort of wished he would.

Do it, I thought. I don’t deserve you, Marty.

Instead, he grabbed my shoulders and engulfed me in a hug. My eyes fell shut with relief and gratitude.

“I thought I was too late. I thought you’d hate me,” I said gruffly.

“I do hate you.”

“I don’t blame you.”

Marty pulled back and held me at arm’s length. “Are you here for real? To stay and talk? And be here?”

I nodded.

“Okay then, what I told you still holds. There’s no such thing as too late. If you’re really here then I stand by that. But Jesus, Isaac. What do I tell Willow?”

“I don’t want her to know I’m here. Not until after the performance.”

“She’s the reason we’re sold out,” Marty said, crossing his arms and smiling. “I don’t know where you’re going to sit.”

“I’ll stand in the back. As long as I can see her, I’ll be happy”

Marty’s smile fell. “Why did you come back?”

“For her,” I said. “For you and Brenda and Benny, but for her. I want to talk to her, to sort out what happened and—What?”

Marty was shaking his head. “No, no, no. I’ve grown very protective of her. Very.”

“I don’t want to hurt her, Marty,” I said. “It’s the last thing I want to do, but she… Fuck.”

“She hurt you too,” Marty finished. “You’re pissed off at her, but you don’t have the whole story. Not by a long shot. Did she tell you what her father threatened?”

“No, she refused to tell me.”

“You can’t guess?” he asked, his tone heavy.

“I don’t know. Yes, I can. He’d have me arrested for being at his house. He’d sue my dad into oblivion. He would’ve pulled her out of the show and we would’ve lost Hamlet but so what? I was willing to lose everything if it meant keeping her. She didn’t believe me.”

“It wasn’t just Hamlet you’d lose,” Marty said. “Her father threatened to have you arrested for statutory rape.”

The word hung in the air, ugly and vile. The blood drained from my face and I swallowed. “Okay,” I said slowly. “I should’ve expected that too. But even so—”

“Not even so. He vowed to use his position and power to destroy your reputation permanently. To label you a sex predator so no one in Hollywood would ever dream of hiring you. It wasn’t only Hamlet she was trying to protect. It was everything. You, the money your father owed, your future.”

“I never…I didn’t realize he hated me that much. Or her.”

“From what she told me, the night he caught you leaving his house was a nightmare. Beyond anything you can imagine. And I don’t say this to make you feel worse…”