It was the day of my callback audition. And I was already an hour late.
“I have to go. I have an appointment —”
“Kit, sit down.”
Never in my life had I wanted someone to leave so badly. He tapped his ash onto the saucer. He didn’t drop his eyes. “You have the apartment, the clothes, the job. You have my son. You think all that comes without a price?”
I could feel the fear rise up against my throat, and I swallowed, reaching for my nerve. “What’s the price?”
He smiled. “Five minutes. Is that so bad?”
I didn’t sit, but I put my hands on the back of the chair. My palms were wet, and my hands slipped. “So talk.”
“You look nervous. Don’t be. I know, the murder in the club was upsetting.”
“A bad meal is upsetting. A murder isn’t pot roast.”
“The thing is, this isn’t about us — I mean, what I asked you to do. It’s a war we’re not a part of.”
“You made me a part of it!”
Nate’s amiable expression faded. “Don’t ever say that again. You’re not a part of it. I’m not a part of it. I’m defending the guy. That’s a straightforward deal. But I wasn’t involved in the hit.”
“You were there that night, I was there, you asked me to keep tabs on him —”
“I told you.” Nate’s voice was low, and that made it even worse, the menace in it. “Don’t say that again. Forget I asked, forget what you said, forget his face, forget it all. You’re a girl dancing in a club. That’s all. Just do your job. Anybody asks questions, you don’t know anything, you don’t know Ray Mirto from a hole in the wall. Do you understand?”
I didn’t say anything, I just clutched the chair.
“Do you understand?”
I nodded in one sharp jerk. “I understand.”
He took another drag of his cigarette. “Now, about Billy. Where is he?”
“He’s with some army buddies. They’re seeing the sights.”
“When are you going to see him again?”
“Tonight. At the club.”
He blew out a long plume of smoke, then stubbed out the cigarette. “All right. I’ll see him there. Is there anything I should know?”
I stared at him through the smoke. Anything he should know? Like, I might become his daughter-in-law? Like, his profession made his son sick?
“No,” I said.
I trailed behind him as he picked up his hat and walked toward the front door. “Just do your job,” he said. “Smile, show your legs. Just don’t take a wrong step, Kit. That’s all.”
The director and the choreographer were still in a huddle when I arrived at the rehearsal hall more than an hour late. They sat against the mirrored wall on two metal chairs in close conversation, but they looked up when I arrived. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, pink and out of breath.
“I’m sorry, I had an emergency…”
“That’s too bad.” The director turned a shoulder away. “Auditions are closed.”
“But I —”
“This is the theater, Miss Corrigan,” he said icily. “There is only one emergency, and that is if you’re unconscious, in the hospital, with amnesia.”
“That’s funny,” I said, “because that’s exactly what happened.”
The director didn’t laugh. But the choreographer, Tom Cullen, grinned. He had pale gray eyes in a slim, long face, and they brightened as he gave me a sharp glance, squinting at me through cigarette smoke. I shrugged as if to say, It was worth a shot.
“Wisecracks still don’t get you a tryout,” the director said. “They get your ass kicked out the door. Good afternoon, Miss Nobody.”
The sting of the remark hit me like a slap. I bit my lip and turned around. I made my way down the dingy hall and leaned against the wall near the elevator. I couldn’t believe I had blown my chance at a big break. I’d thought about the murder at the club, I’d thought about Nate, I’d thought about Billy. All day I’d thought about everything but the most crucial appointment of my life.
“If it makes you feel better,” Tom Cullen said behind me, “we’d already decided Janine Taylor would get the part.”
I quickly swiped at my tears before turning around. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“Kid, I’ve looked at your résumé. You’ve been in the chorus of one stinkpot show. And now you’re a Lido girl, hoop dee doo. You’re a good strong dancer — that’s why I wanted to see you again. You’ve got a voice and a look. You were