"Like a Nazi," Rose muttered. Edmond stepped back into the office.
"It's all right out there," he said softly. He looked at us and then his mother. "Well?'
"I've told them everything and they have told me some things as well. You've been right about all this, Edmond. Changes will be made immediately."
He smiled.
"That's good, Mother."
Madame Senetsky rose.
"We have to attend to our guests," she said.
"The show must go on," Cinnamon muttered loud enough for all to hear.
"Yes," Madame Senetsky said in the tone of one who had to admit the inevitable. "It must if we are to go on. Edmond?'
"Actually," he said. "despite the disaster of the final act, there are people chafing at the bit to meet you all. I have a record company producer who is very interested in you. Ice. Rose, there's a casting director out there who's looking for dancers for a Broadway show. It will be just as part of the chorus, but it's a very nice opportunity. Jack Ferante was apparentl
y more impressed with Cinnamon than he was with Howard, and he passed her name on to Mark Coleman. Mother."
"I didn't see Mark there tonight."
"He was there and was disappointed not to see you, but he came up to me immediately when I brought Steven to the reception and asked to have Cinnamon come to an audition for his new film. The Runaways. It could be a star-maker."
"That's very interesting. Edmond, but I don't want to rush these people."
"Mother," he warned. "Are we going to get into the same old argument?"
He turned to us and smiled.
"Mother and I disagree about when and where talented people should be exposed to the public at large. She forgets how she was pushed out on stage at the age of fourteen."
"That's different."
"Why? Because it was you?" She stiffened,
"We'll talk about it later, when it is appropriate to talk about it," she said firmly.
He smiled.
"I have some interesting prospects for you as well. Honey. but I do believe the more you work with Mr. Bergman, the better you're going to be, Before this year ends, you'll have a position in a significant orchestra. I'm sure."
"What about Steven?" I asked.
Edmond looked at Madame Senetsky.
"There's a manager who is very interested in taking him on," he replied.
"Not that Hungarian horse thief. Mazdar," she said.
"He gets it done. Mother."
"He ruins them." she countered.
"We'll talk," Edmond said softly.
"That, my son, we will do," she assured him with her characteristic regal control.