years creating had literally come to life.
It was almost perfect.
Almost.
In the second act, things began to slip just a little. This was the part of the play they’d struggled with a few times in rehearsals. Anna was supposed to abandon the friends who had become like her surrogate family during her time at school, leaving her free to focus more wholly on her studies, and Emery had never been able to really capture the character’s motivation.
“I don’t get it,” she’d said on more than one occasion. “Everything good that’s happened to her so far has been because of her friends. Why would she think she’s got to leave them now?”
Charlotte had done her upmost to explain the pivotal moment in her character’s coming-of-age tale, but she knew that Emery had never quite managed to wrap her head around it. Sometimes she acted the part flawlessly anyway. But sometimes she thought too hard about what she was doing, and Charlotte was able to see through her portrayal.
Unfortunately, that seemed to be the case tonight.
Emery fumbled a line in the second to last scene of the play, and Charlotte felt as if she was choking. The actress never really got her feet back under her after that misstep. Fortunately, she didn’t have much to do in the final scene, but Charlotte was excruciatingly aware the whole time that the person standing on the stage was Emery and not Anna.
The curtain call couldn’t have come soon enough. She was relieved, as the cast took their bows, to see that the audience around her was applauding enthusiastically. Although she had been nervous about what their response might be, she allowed herself to look around.
Several people were on their feet. That was a good thing, Charlotte knew. She had only produced one play that had failed to bring anyone to their feet at its end, and that production had closed after only a few weeks. At least this one was looking more successful than that.
She looked to her right and noticed a well-dressed man applauding especially vigorously. He was tall, with light brown hair that fell across his forehead. Undeniably handsome, he looked to be about her own age—no older than thirty-five, surely—and the grin that split his face momentarily stunned her.
He really liked the play.
That was more than just approval. He was enthusiastic about it. Excited.
She knew that some productions had regulars, fans who loved them so much that they came back again and again. Was it possible that this man would come back to see her show again? She had never had a regular before—at least, not that she knew of. It would feel like quite an accomplishment to know that someone was such a fan of her work.
And to have it happen with this play—the one that had meant so much to her—that would be extra special.
Watching the avid fan, her concerns about the flaws in Emery’s performance abated. Obviously it couldn’t have been as bad as she’d feared, or this man wouldn’t be applauding so heartily.
Maybe he was a critic! Charlotte’s heart leapt at the thought. Her work had been reviewed before, but never by someone who had so clearly adored it. For a moment, she allowed herself to fantasize about what it would feel like to go out tomorrow, pick up a newspaper, and see a glowing review of the play.
It’s really all happening. The play she’d worked on since graduate school had just had its opening night, and it had gone as well as she could have hoped. With the exception of Emery’s fumble, there had been no problems, and the audience had clearly liked what they’d seen.
I was right to trust my team. They really came through for me.
She had always found it difficult to put her faith in other people, to believe that a job could be done well if she didn’t do it herself. She had always felt the need to micromanage her shows, to make sure that every aspect of every production was happening the way she wanted it to. This play was the first one she’d ever tried to relax and let her team control. This was the first time she had ever watched one of her plays from the house instead of from the wings.
And I’m so glad I did. It was so worth it.
The moment the house lights came up, she left her chair and hurried out to the lobby. She had told herself she would go backstage when the play was