Was that code for ‘illiterate’? “What makes you think these characters are poor? The hero and his neighbor are farmers. But from the brief description Vaughn gives us, they’re not struggling.”
“That’s the other thing. They should be struggling. We should feel their desperation.” Tommy’s arrogance was on full display.
Benita rose and counted to ten. She paced around the kitchen table. “I think you’re focusing on the wrong things. This musical is a tribute to the myths and folklore of the author’s parents’ culture. That’s the only aspect of the characters that’s important to the storytelling.”
“But we don’t want viewers to question the credibility of the story.”
Benita almost burst out laughing. “People who attend this play will have to suspend their disbelief. You do realize water nymphs and fairies don’t exist, right?”
When they’d first met, Benita had been in awe of Tommy Poole. The older man had seemed so wise and worldly to the young and inexperienced woman Benita had been. But over time, Tommy’s sheen had tarnished. The opinions and perspectives he sometimes voiced were almost criminally biased. Today especially, she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind to him. Maybe it was the two months she’d spent in Trinity Falls during this visit, which was the longest amount of time she’d been home since she’d relocated to L.A.
“I’m well aware that water nymphs and fairies don’t exist.” His voice slapped at her. Men like Tommy didn’t like to be talked down to.
Funny, neither did women like Benita. She stopped pacing. She was done playing games. “The script isn’t changing, Tommy.”
“If you want me to produce it, it will.”
“Then you won’t be producing it. Thanks for your time.” He sure did think a lot of himself. Benita started to disconnect the call when the producer’s voice stopped her.
“Benita, wait. I’m just asking for minor changes.”
“As I explained, this play is a tribute to the author’s parents, not some blaxploitation project. You’ll produce it as it’s written or not at all.” In the past, she might have caved in to bullying by Tommy and people of his ilk. The old Benita measured success in deals made and money paid. Funny how that changed when you remembered where and who you came from.
“Aren’t you at least going to take my offer to your client?”
“My client would agree with me.” My client doesn’t even know I’m shopping his work.
After a beat of silence, Tommy gave in. “Fine. Extend an offer to your client. The script will remain as it was written.”
Yes! “I’ll discuss your offer with my client and get back to you.” Benita disconnected the call.
Then she did a victory dance around Ms. Helen’s cozy kitchen, jumping up and down and shaking her hips. She knew Vaughn’s talents were meant to be enjoyed by thousands, millions even. She couldn’t wait to see his face when she gave him the good news. She was breathless and impatient with excitement.
But she needed to slow down. Vaughn would take some convincing that Tommy Poole’s offer was a good thing. She’d have to pick the right time to tell him. Even then, she’d have to hope for the best.
“There you are. I was starting to worry.”
Ramona looked up at Quincy’s greeting. She pulled her gaze from the devastatingly handsome image he made in his teal T-shirt, slate gray shorts, and beautiful smile. How can he still get to me when I’m this angry with him?
Without a word, she secured the front door of their rental cabin. It was more about buying time for herself than a concern about possible crime.
“Where have you been?” Quincy’s smile was welcoming. His words were light as he approached her.
Ramona stepped away from the door to meet him halfway. In hindsight, she wished she’d asked Quincy that same question nine days ago, right after he’d met with Foster. Unless he came clean with her now, how could she ever trust him again? She stopped in front of the sofa in the family room. Quincy stood less than an arm’s length from her. He pressed his lips against her cheek. Ramona’s heart cracked.
Why didn’t you tell me you were going to ask for your old job back?
She swallowed to dislodge the lump in her throat. “Have you seen Foster?”
Quincy’s smile faded. “Foster? Why do you ask?”
Ramona stepped back. Was he going to lie to her again? “He asked me to give you his best. And he’s still waiting for an answer about your faculty position.”
Surprise swept across his ruggedly handsome features. “You saw him?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to ask him for your job back?”
Quincy turned away from her. He shoved his fists into the front pockets of his shorts. “I was waiting for the right time.”