Waiting in the Wings (20 page)

I couldn’t help laughing. “Well, you seem to do just fi with it.”

“I get by.”

The band took a break and the saxophonist made his way to our table. Adrienne straightened, stood, and embraced him, instantly “on.” She introduced me to Oscar, who immediately slid into the booth next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. “You guys are amazing,” I said. “I could listen to you all night.”

“Please do, little lady,” he said. “Let’s see if we can get your beautiful friend here to sing a number with us, like the good old days.”

I looked to Adrienne questioningly.

“I used to do vocals for Oscar and the guys years ago. Those were great times.” She reached across and squeezed his hand. “You never know. Maybe after another glass or two.” She indicated her wine glass, shaking it side to side.

“Candace,” Oscar called, “another bottle for these ladies. On me!” We laughed. “Jenna, are you a fan of jazz music?”

I nodded wholeheartedly. “I am. Growing up, my parents played a lot of Louis Armstrong, but Clifford Brown is by far my favorite.”

“A Brownie fan, I like it. You’ll have to check out our upcoming album this summer. Your friend here is featured on one of the tracks.” Oscar nodded his head at Adrienne who I regarded in surprise.

She waved him off. “It’s not a big deal. I stopped by the studio to listen to their session and the next thing I knew, he had me laying down a few vocals.”

“As if I would have let that opportunity go by,” Oscar said. How did I not know about her moonlighting as a jazz singer?

Because I didn’t want to, I reminded myself. I watched her across the table and though I still felt a bit off kilter, it also felt strangely good to be with her tonight. Cathartic in a way I wouldn’t have predicted. I drank my wine and reflected on this new turn of events as Oscar whisked Adrienne off to the stage.

“Ladies and gentleman, we have an extra special treat for you tonight. Making her way to the stage for this next tune is a girl you all love. Star of stage and screen, please put ‘em together for the lovely Adrienne Kenyon.”

The place went nuts as Adrienne approached the microphone. She was wearing a navy blue dress that accentuated her figure in all the right ways. It was dignified and sexy at the same time. The band played the opening notes of “Someone to Watch Over Me,” and Adrienne began to sing. I was immediately transfixed by her vocals. I hadn’t heard her sing since
Clean Slate
, and even then the music had been nothing like this. The arrangement was slow and unique and perfect for her voice. She was simply intoxicating as she sang, swaying slightly to the music. She had a subtle way of

working the crowd enough to pull them in without overdoing it. I watched the faces of her audience and smiled when I saw how she had them eating out of the palm of her hand. When the song came to a close, the crowd erupted in applause, accompanied by a few boisterous whistles. Adrienne shook a few hands on her way back to the booth. I shook my head, again reminded of what an amazing performer she was.

“That was nicely done.”

“Thank you. I felt a little rusty. Come on.” She inclined her head. “Let’s call it a night. I’m exhausted.”

We grabbed our belongings and settled the tab. As we climbed the steps together, Adrienne spoke. “So is there a chance we’re going to get through this thing?”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

She reached out and gave my hand a squeeze. “See you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Adrienne.” She turned to go. I watched her walk down the street, her hands in the pockets of her overcoat. I felt not only relieved that the meeting had gone well, but it was genuinely good to talk to her again. Would wonders never cease?

C
hapter
n
ine

A

nyone know what time it is?” I asked the group of sound guys buzzing around us.

“Or what year?” Adrienne countered quietly. “Because I feel like we’ve been here for several.”

It was the fourth week of shooting and the three of us girls were sitting around a table on a soundstage shooting a lunch scene. Even though it was well into the evening, the lighting guys were capable of amazing things and made it seem as if sunlight was streaming through the faux café windows. We’d been working since six a.m. and, needless to say, we were way past tired. It seemed like there were a few sound details that were holding us up and once again, we were left to wait.

Michelle sat staring at herself in a spoon she held mere inches from her face. In actuality, she didn’t have to be on set. She’d wrapped for the night on the last take we’d done, leaving just Adrienne and me to finish shooting the end of the scene. “How about you two get this thing right on the first take so we can get out of here? Mama needs a cocktail.”

I laughed and nodded in wholehearted agreement. I’d found my stride on the film, enjoying the ensemble work and feeling like part of a group. Maybe that was my theater background coming out. The six of us, featured as friends in the movie, formed a rather tight bond off-camera as well. We spent late nights at the hotel bar and even Adrienne, who stayed at her own apartment during the shoot,

joined us each night. We were still feeling each other out, but the atmosphere between us had been relaxed.

“As much as I second that sentiment, I can’t go to the bar tonight, guys,” I said. “I’m seeing my best friend tomorrow for dress shopping. I’ll need copious amounts of sleep for that, I think.”

“That’s right,” Adrienne chimed in. “The big day is fast approaching. I love that they’re getting married in the Hamptons. They must have some money in that family.”

I nodded. “They do. Should be fun though. I’ve never been there.” “So no Jenna tonight.” Michelle pouted. “Who am I going to

shoot olives at across the table?”

“Shoot ‘em at Adrienne. She can’t catch them, but she’ll try and that’s somewhat amusing.”

“I will. I’ll definitely try my very best.”

“Aww, Adrienne, you’re hereby named my partner in crime tonight,” Michelle said. “And that, my dears, is my exit line. Fingers crossed I see you guys in a few.” She patted Adrienne’s shoulder and exited the café interior.

I sighed and leaned back in my chair. “Stuck with me again it seems.”

“I have the worst luck.”

“Want to have a staring contest?”

She laughed at the randomness. “No, not really.” “Why not?”

“I don’t know. Because I’m no longer ten years old? I’d forgotten how much you loved games.”

I rested my chin in my hand. “I already know I’m whimsical. I don’t need you to point it out.”

“Well, as long as you’re aware.”

“Come on. It could be fun. You’ll probably lose, but fun will be had.”

“Flatterer.”

I knew appealing to her competitive side would help my cause. “So we’re on?”

But she didn’t answer because damn it, she was already staring me down, her brow furrowed in the most ridiculous concentrated expression.

“Stop it. I wasn’t ready.” But I was already laughing, damn it. The long hours we’d already worked had done a number on my ability to keep it together. “I’m not playing if you’re going to cheat.”

“Yes, you are and you’re losing.”

I sucked in air and shook off the smile, literally putting my game face on. I wasn’t as competitive as Adrienne, but I had standards. “All right, fine. First one who laughs has to buy drinks for the week.”

“I hope you saved up.”

And we were underway. I met her eyes and held them, both of us expressionless for the first few moments of the competition. It soon became apparent to me the very nature of a staring contest left me with very little to do but study the face of my competitor. And I did. Adrienne’s eyelashes, I decided, were very long and had a unique way of catching the light. And her mouth was full and slightly pouty and rather sexy. My stomach did a little twist, which I chose to ignore. I also liked the way the long bangs she sported fell just shy of her left eye. That’s when I noticed her eyes narrow further in concentration and realized this was my shot. Ever so slightly, I poked my tongue out of the side of my mouth, making sure the rest of my face remained blank. The effect was spot on. The lines around Adrienne’s eyes darkened and her mouth turned up a fraction. She was fighting it, I could tell, but it wasn’t long before she gave in to an explosion of laughter, falling over sideways in her chair. “All right, all right. You win. Congratulations.” She held up her hands in surrender.

I sat back, triumphant. “You consistently underestimate me.” Her laughter died down and she was left smiling back at me.

Something flickered behind her eyes. “You’d think I’d have learned

that lesson by now.”

I felt flushed and uncomfortable. I didn’t know what to say to this. Our eyes held for a beat or two longer than casual and I finally had to glance down at my hands in my lap.

Adrienne rescued us. “So how quick do you think we can do this?” “I think the question is how quick can you do this. They don’t

call me One-Take McGovern for nothing.”

She raised her eyebrows and laughed. “First of all, no one calls you that. Second of all, double or nothing you screw up more takes than I do.”

I extended my hand across the table. “Deal.”

“Fabulous.” She shook my hand as a production assistant approached and handed us two new sheets of dialogue.

“Wait. What are these?” I asked her retreating form.

“Script rewrites,” the assistant shot back. “Hot off the presses. Frank says you can take a few minutes to look them over, but they need to shoot soon.”

I scanned the page, my jaw dropping as I took in the bad news. The meager five lines I’d committed to memory earlier in the afternoon had been replaced with what must have amounted to thirty mammoth new ones. What the hell? I looked up at Adrienne who blinked back at me innocently, clearly enjoying this. “So not fair,” I pointed out.

“I love this film,” she said gleefully.

❖

A hundred years and thirteen takes later, the three of us girls walked down the studio street to our trailers, laughing through extreme exhaustion as Adrienne recounted the details of the bet to Michelle.

“Well, I’m happy my public and professional torture amuses the two of you so much,” I said.

“Since Jenna’s not coming to the bar, how about a quick drink in my trailer to cap off this crazy day?” Adrienne offered.

“I’m in,” Michelle replied.

“I could use a cocktail, sure.”

We climbed the steps to Adrienne’s trailer and I looked around, noticing that yet again her place was bigger than mine. “How do you always swing the nicer digs, Kenyon? When do the rest of us reach your star level?”

“It’s all in the negotiation. Put it in your contract next time, Miss Golden Globe.”

“I didn’t win,” I said in mock sorrow. “You should have. Mojitos?”

The comment registered. Adrienne had seen my movie. I filed that away to think about another time, not sure why it struck such a chord in me.

“Bring them on,” Michelle crowed.

Adrienne mixed the drinks in her deluxe kitchen and passed them out. She raised her glass. “To ruined takes and free liquor.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“Cheers,” I said. We clinked glasses and I studied Adrienne’s

profile as she drank.

Michelle’s cell phone rang and she jumped up. “Oh! It’s my husband. I’m going to take this outside. Don’t touch my drink.” She backed away and pointed at us.

Adrienne pulled her knee onto the couch and turned to face me. “Since we have a sec, I’d like to run something by you if that’s okay.”

“Sure. Go for it.”

“I have an offer on the table and wouldn’t mind hearing your opinion on the project.”

“What kind of offer are we talking about here?” I raised my eyebrows.

She laughed and shoved me playfully. “It’s a job offer.

Broadway.”

“You’re kidding. What’s the show?”

“They’re reviving
Cabaret
and have offered me Sally.”

I sat up straighter and thought this through. Adrienne would make a killer Sally Bowles. Just the idea of it got me excited for her. “What’s to think about? You have to do it.”

“The idea scares the hell out of me. Despite everything, people still think of me as that teenager from TV. Plus, I wouldn’t want to do the role the same old way everyone’s already done it. How would I make it my own? It’s just, I don’t want to get in over my head.”

I took her hand automatically. “Adrienne, why do you always sell yourself short? If there is anyone who can do this part, it’s you. You have amazing talent, and when people see you onstage, it’s

clear to them why you’re there. Not only that, but you have this remarkable presence about you that draws people in, and you’re capable of doing that to thousands of people at once. I’ve seen it firsthand. There’s no one better. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

“Do you really feel that way?” She was absently tracing small circles across my hand with her thumb. She seemed sincerely touched by what I’d said, as if she didn’t know these things about herself.

“Yes, I do.”

“Thank you for saying that. Hearing it from you really helps.” “It does?”

“Yeah, it does.”

I pulled my hand back, as I didn’t think I could stand much more attention from that thumb. There was already a noticeable stirring in my lower abdomen that I immediately shook off, offended by my body’s reaction to a friendly touch. I was pretty sure Adrienne was unaware of what she had been doing. It was a casual gesture and I internally cursed myself.

Adrienne straightened, snapping out of it. “What about you? I’m surprised to see you mixed up in the movie biz. I always thought you’d stick with theater. It was your home.”

“I miss it, but I needed a break after my run with the LA company and Latham found a small part in an indie feature. One project led to another and here I am.” I gestured around the room. “I guess I’ve kind of gone where the water was warm. I’d like to get back though. Maybe soon.”

“You should, Jenna. You’re the kind of triple threat people only talk about. You’re the real deal. You’re still dancing, right?”