Life on the Naughty List, or What the Elf!

10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I walked into the coffee shop around the corner from the Al Hirschfeld theater where The Hallow Men was playing with a couple minutes to spare. I ordered a flat white with almond milk and found a corner table where I could watch the comings and goings of the store patrons.

For the tenth time, I checked my watch. Mr. Seegers was now eleven minutes late. I don’t like late people. I get it. We’re all late occasionally. But some people are perpetually late, and they drive me crazy—especially at the theater. I’m sorry, the curtain goes up at 8:00 p.m. on most shows. If you’re there at 8:05, you should not expect to be seated until Act II. The flood of latecomers after the opening number is distracting for everyone. If I ran the world, I’d have television monitors set up in the lobby and let people watch the show from that vantage point until Act II. Sadly, I don’t run the world.

At 7:20, the tinkling sound of the bells above the front door alerted me to someone new. A tallish guy with a rich tan walked in. Even if I hadn’t already seen a picture of Ralph Seegers, I would have known this was him. He wore a midnight blue suit that had a shine to it. His shirt was almost the same shade but was covered in chromis damsel blue polka dots. The shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, showing his hairless chest, which I was pretty sure he had professionally waxed. His face had a five o’clock shadow, but not the type of shadow that happens because people have been working all day. No, it was more the five o’clock shadow that men who manscape regularly cultivate. His dark-brown hair was highlighted by lighter shades on top, so I guessed his colorist was as expensive as his suit.

He scanned the room, found me, and threw on a thousand-watt smile before walking over. I threw on my own fake smile and stood to greet him.

“Erika?” he questioned as if he didn’t already know the answer.

“That’s me,” I said, reaching out my hand to shake his. Instead of shaking my hand, he brought me in for a hug and kissed my cheek.

“Ralph Seegers,” he said when he finally broke away. “It’s nice to meet you. Johnny has told me great things about you.”

“Likewise.”

“Let me get a coffee, and I’ll be back to join you.” Without waiting for a response, he took off his suit jacket and laid it over the back of the chair.

He walked away, and let’s say that watching him walk away was just as enjoyable as watching him from the front. His suit pants left very little to the imagination. I could tell he was one guy who loved doing squats at the gym…and it showed. As if he could tell I was watching him walk away, he glanced back and smiled. I wanted to divert my eyes, but I’d already been caught, so I grinned.

My phone vibrated on the table, so I picked it up and looked. There was a message waiting.

Johnny: So, what do you think of Ralph? I told you he was hot.

I quickly shot back a text.

Erika: He finally got here. And yes, he’s nice to look at. Hopefully, his personality matches.

Johnny: Well, can’t wait to hear how things go. Have fun. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

Erika: That leaves my options wide open .

I finished sending the text when Ralph pulled back the chair and sat down at the table.

“I’m sorry I was late. I was brought on to a new project this afternoon, and I was trying to get up and running.”

“Anything I would have heard of?” I asked.

“Maybe. There’s a new Broadway theater set to open next month—“

“Let me guess, the Maurer Theatre?” The quick wrinkle of his forehead showed me he hadn’t expected me to know about it yet. The crease on his forehead also showed me he wasn’t using Botox…yet.

“I’m surprised you’ve heard of the Maurer Theatre. It’s flying under the radar right now.”

“The new show opening the Maurer…”

“Yes?”

“I’m in that musical.”

“Really? I hadn’t heard that yet. But then, the only person the producer has told me about is the lead, Caiden Wynter Jeanes. Rebekka went on and on about him when we met. She wanted to make sure that I knew Jeanes was a teen heartthrob making his Broadway debut. Honestly, I hadn’t heard of him, so I watched a few old episodes of Derek’s Destiny on YouTube.”

“I’m surprised Rebekka didn’t bring you Caiden’s entire DVD collection,” I said with a smile.

“Yeah, she sure seems to be putting a lot into his stock as a draw for a younger audience.” Ralph took a drink of his coffee before he continued. “What can you tell me about the show?”

I snorted out a quick laugh that was very un-lady-like. When I got myself under control, I said, “I’ll let you know once I do.” He narrowed his eyes in confusion. So, I provided a few more details. Over the next ten minutes, I laid out everything that had happened in the rehearsals.

“Well…wow… I can tell you Rebekka made it sound like things were moving along much better than that.”

“I think we have something, but I really have no idea what it is yet. Honestly, I don’t think anyone knows what we have yet.”

“Well, you better hurry up and find out. The show opens in five weeks.”

“Tell me about it,” I said. I then took a sip of my flat white, which had grown lukewarm. After putting down my cup, I looked at my watch—we had twenty minutes to curtain. “Shall we head on over?”

Ralph looked at his watch. “Wow, you’re right. We really should make our way to the theater.”

Ralph stood up and donned his coat. I put on my coat. Ralph didn’t offer to help me. Not that I need help to put on my jacket, but it’s still nice when a guy offers. We left the coffee shop, headed around the corner, and made our way to the will-call line. We chitchatted about nothing in particular. Before long, we had our tickets in-hand and made it past security into the theater with about five minutes to spare before curtain.

The usher handed us our Playbills and showed us to the sixth row of the theater. Our seats were on the aisle. Ralph took the aisle seat and I sat next to him. Almost immediately, Ralph saw someone he knew a couple of aisles over, so he went over to say hello. I spent the time flipping through the Playbill . One of the first pages that caught my attention was a reprint of the T.S. Elliot poem, “The Hallow Men.” I hate admitting that I’d never read it before, but I hadn’t heard of it until this show came about. After reading the poem, I wasn’t sure what to expect from the show. The lights flashed, so I put the Playbill under my chair as Ralph came back to his seat.

“Sorry about that,” he whispered. “That’s one of the co-producers on the show. Just wanted to check in with him quickly.”

The orchestra started playing before I could say anything as the theater lights dimmed.

“This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but with a whimper,” the lead actor sang as the lights faded to black.

I wasted two hours and thirty minutes of my life that I’ll never get back. What the heck was that? The timid applause from the audience suggested I wasn’t the only one who was utterly lost. The actors took their bows, and they looked defeated, like the closing notice for the musical had already been posted.

Once the curtain came down, we waded our way through the streams of people flowing out of the theater. Thankfully, the ushers opened the side doors, which made getting the masses of people inside the theater outside much faster.

“So, what did you think?” Ralph asked me.

Is this a trick question? “You’re the publicist. What do you think?” Good job, divert the question.

“I think it will be a smash hit and run for years,” he said with all seriousness without skipping a beat.

I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, spun around, almost bumping into an older woman, and, before I could think, said, “Are you delusional? I mean, did we watch the same train wreck in there? The show had no plot. The music sounded like something I’d expect to hear in my niece’s kindergarten class. And I don’t have a niece. The choreography, albeit good, did nothing to further the story. If anything, it felt like someone wrote on the script ‘insert dance here,’ and that’s exactly what the choreographer did. Shall I go on?”

“Whoa there, tiger,” Ralph said, putting his arms up in mock surrender. “I wanted to see your reaction. And you’re right about everything you said. Don’t forget the costumes, which I swear came from the Salvation Army’s secondhand store.”

“And who was the person who designed the lighting? The stage was either over-saturated with light or so dark you couldn’t see anything. It was like a trained monkey sat in the back and randomly flipped switches.”

“You’re definitely opinionated.”

I looked up into his blue eyes, which perfectly matched the color of his suit. I expected to see a hint of mockery, but I didn’t see any there. “Yes, I’m opinionated. This is my career. This show is their career,” I said, pointing to the stage door queue where a handful of people had lined up for autographs. “When a show like this gets mounted, it’s bad for everyone. Sure, it makes for great internet fodder, but a lot of actors are going to be unemployed soon. I never wish for a show to close because I know what it means to everyone involved.”

The corner of his lip quirked up. “It’s rare to find someone so passionate about their vocation. I want to hear more of your passion over dinner. Shall we go?” he asked, offering his arm. I looped my arm in his and let him lead me.

“Where are we heading?” I asked. I hadn’t bothered to ask Johnny where we’d be going to dinner after the show, so I was open to whatever surprise Ralph threw at me.

“I was thinking somewhere not too touristy that was good but quiet. How about Serafina’s? It’s the restaurant in the Time Hotel. The menu is eclectic, but it’s a nice ambiance.”

“Sounds perfect.”

We crossed the street at 8 th Avenue and continued northward until 49 th Street. I’d never been in The Time before. Still, I remember hearing about it years ago on a Discovery Channel episode about hotels in New York City. As we entered, it was clear that the old version of The Time had been revamped with a high-end, sleek design. There were only a handful of couples in the restaurant, so we were seated almost immediately.

We spent a few minutes perusing the menu. Ultimately, I went with the red snapper served with root vegetables. Ralph had a rack of lamb with mixed grilled vegetables and purple mashed potatoes.

We talked about our lives and where we were from. One thing about living in Manhattan, most people seem to be originally from somewhere other than Manhattan. Only crazy people from across the world wanted to live in the city’s heart. Our meals arrived, and they were cooked to perfection.

“I have a question for you,” I said hesitantly. “As someone who’s working on publicity for The Hallow Men , how do you polish this turd for the press?”

He poked a piece of lamb into his mouth and chewed. When he was done chewing, he said, “First, we hope the Internet doesn’t crucify the show. It is still in previews, and we hope the team can fix this thing before it officially opens. If the internet trolls come for us, we do our best to deflect. I’ll say something like, ‘They’re still completing the artistic vision for the show’ or ‘Reviewing a show in previews is like reviewing a cook by only looking at the ingredients.’ The goal is to spin the show. Good, bad, or train wreck, my job is to put a positive light on everything.”

“You saw that monstrosity tonight. How do you save it?”

His face fell. “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s hard for me to know what we’ll be up against until I see what people say online or in the tabloids. I have a couple of interns who scour the Internet looking for any content about the shows we represent. I’m thankful for those interns because watching social media is almost 24/7 job these days. And every time I turn around, there’s a new website, blog, or TikTok channel vying for my attention. I can’t be everywhere at once, so having a team that does this for me frees me up to work on the big guns like The New York Times , The Washington Post , or Variety .”

“Interesting… I don’t think I could be in your world very long without yelling at my computer monitor.”

“Oh, trust me,” he started, “there’s a lot of that, too. I had a colleague who put his fist through a wall many years ago. He’d had enough of one of the Broadway gossip columnists who made it her personal goal to sink the show.”

“Let me guess, Michelle Bouvier?”

“I take it you’ve had your dealings with Ms. Bouvier?”

“Me, personally? No. Thankfully, I’ve never had a run-in with her. But I’ve had a lot of friends raked over the open fire by that hatchet job over the years.”

“Yeah, Ms. Bouvier is the type of reporter you always want to be leery of. They hold more power than many Broadway producers. I’ve spent a good deal of my adult life cleaning up after her. She’s like a one-woman stampede when she decides she wants to take someone down a few notches.”

I sighed, glad that I wasn’t the one who had to deal with the press like that regularly. As an actor, I know dealing with the press is part of life, but dealing with them is the ultimate double-edged sword. On one side, the press can help you build word of mouth for your show. I’ve seen many little Off-Off-Broadway shows garner the attention of the press only to be transferred to Broadway and turned into Tony Award-winning mega-hits. On the other side, they can cut you down without a moment’s hesitation, and poof, there goes the show. Sometimes, the drama reported by the press is completely legitimate. Still, other times, it feels like the reporter is out to get you or the show.

The server came by the table and took away our dishes before asking if we wanted dessert. Both Ralph and I passed on the dessert. After dinner, Ralph walked me all the way to my apartment. He was everything I look for in a guy. He’s tall. He’s gorgeous. He’s articulate. He understands the world I live and work in. And he’s conscientious of others, even if he was late.

Standing outside the Manhattan Plaza, he said, “This has been a charming evening. Admittedly, I wish we’d seen a different show, but the company and conversation were enjoyable.”

“I agree completely.”

He hesitated before saying, “Well, you should get inside where it’s warm. I have an early morning tomorrow. After seeing the show tonight, I know I have a long Sunday ahead of me.”

“Thank you for a perfectly amazing evening.”

I reached out to give him a hug goodbye. He enveloped me in his strong arms. My face pressed against his chest. I could practically feel his muscles under my cheek. I slightly twisted my head and he stared down at me. Before long, his soft lips were pressed against mine. It was a completely swoon-worthy moment. If this had been a movie, my leg would have lifted off the ground behind me as I floated on air in his embrace. Instead, someone on the other side of the street yelled, “Get a room!”

That caused both of us to separate and start laughing. “Well, I guess I better be going,” Ralph said. “I hope to see you again.”

“Likewise.” We said goodbye, and he watched as I walked into the building. The warm embrace of the lobby was a nice contrast to the bitter cold of the November evening. I said hello to the security guard and made my way to the elevator bank. I was about to push the button when I remembered I’d forgotten to pick up cat food for Bootsy. I quickly hurried my way out of the building when my phone vibrated.

Ralph: Already missing you. Had a great time tonight.

Erika: I can’t wait to see you again. Let’s get coffee sometime this week.

I hit send and walked the half block to the nearest Duane Reade. I entered the drug store and headed toward the pet food section. I bypassed only a handful of people in the store. I picked out seven cans of Bootsy’s favorite brand when I heard a loud voice on the aisle over.

“I’m sorry, honey. You know how things are here in the city. I wish I could make it home tonight, but I missed the last train to Westchester.”

I recognized that voice. I’d just been on a date with that voice. Hugging the cat food tins to my chest, I tiptoed to the end of the aisle and poked my head down the next aisle to find Ralph on the phone. While he was talking, I noticed something that hadn’t been there while we were on our date, a wedding ring. I gasped and pulled my head back as Ralph’s head turned in my direction. I hope he didn’t see me. Please don’t let him have seen me . I crept away from the aisle.

“Tell the kids I’m sorry I won’t make it to church tomorrow. The show isn’t doing very well, so I’m going to be in the office all day. I’ll be home Sunday night, I promise… Love you too… Good night.”

I made my way to the back corner of the floor and stood there for twenty minutes. I put the cat food on the ground and texted Johnny.

Erika: Ralph Seegers is married. Did you know that?

Johnny: What? I thought he was single. How do you know he’s married?

Erika: I caught him on the phone with his wife and saw that he’d put on a wedding ring, which most definitely was not there on our date!

Johnny: S orry! I didn’t know. Let’s talk revenge scenarios tomorrow.

When I finally hoped the coast was clear, I made my way to the front counter and paid for the cat food.