Life on the Naughty List, or What the Elf!

24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

I spent most of Sunday finally responding to emails and texts from people I’d avoided the rest of the weekend. My lawyer wrote to say they were still inquiring.

“ Erika, the more we dig, the more convoluted this case becomes. Technically, you were in a private residence having a private conversation. Still, your conversation was being picked up by the microphone of the young girl in the private residence. That conversation would have been kept private, but she was engaged in a video game with other players in a more public space. To make things worse, one of the other players was streaming the video gameplay. As such, the young girl you know did not know anyone was streaming the video game. Someone who writes for TheBroadway411 was watching the stream, and recognized your conversation for what it was and captured the stream. As you can see, the conversation went through many mediated channels. Technically, we could argue that recording a minor’s private video game time could be illegal, but the video game industry already alleges that it’s a public space, so no laws were broken. It’s a hard one. – Charles Pearson. ”

Upon finishing the email, my head felt ready to explode. “So much for technology,” came the grumbled response. A simple ‘thank-you’ reply was all I could manage, along with a request to keep up the excellent work. Words failed beyond that point. Instead, I turned my attention to listing other potential life paths. Waiting tables? A brief stint during college came to mind, and that one came off my list. Then there was that fleeting moment as a barista. Unfortunately, that exhausted the list of usable job experience. Regional summer stock performances rounded out the resume, but playing Belle in Beauty and the Beast hardly qualified one as a librarian, just as touring Elphaba didn’t make for a suitable flying monkey trainer.

I could always go back and get another degree. The idea of running back to college made me want to crawl into a hole. I was a good student, but I wasn’t an exceptional student. Admittedly, I don’t know if my grades from my undergraduate years would be good enough to get me into a decent master’s program. And if they did, what would I study? I wrote a list. Teacher… and then I wrote Playwright . Both assumed I would be any good and could find a job. Thankfully, I could still be a cabaret singer for a while, but my savings were rapidly disappearing.

I needed to schedule a meeting with my accountant next week and really look at my financials. I didn’t know what else to do. The more I pondered about my financial situation, the more worried I became. I had student loans, my apartment, electric, singing lessons, and a stack of other bills that had to get paid somehow.

The room spun around me, its edges blurring into a dizzying whirl. My chest tightened, each breath coming faster and shallower than the last. I lifted my hand to my forehead and found beads of sweat around my temple. Was this a fever? I didn’t have time to be sick. I noticed my hands were shivering. My pulse was racing. “Is it me or is the room getting hot?” I’m too young to have hot flashes . I freaked out. It was as if my body suddenly rebelled against me. Then it hit me. “I’m having a panic attack.” What’s wrong with me? I haven’t had one of these since high school . Think! Think! What are you supposed to do? I bent at the waist and put my head between my knees, and I took a series of deep breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth. I stayed in that position until my heartbeat stabilized. When I calmed down, I reminded myself that I was in this same financial position I had been in just six weeks ago, and I had been getting by.

I did the thing I most dreaded doing next. I called my parents.

“Hello?” my mom’s voice said over the phone.

“Mom,” I squeaked out.

“Erika, what’s wrong? I can hear it in your voice.”

“I…I was fired, Mom. I’m no longer on The Naughty List .“ Tears immediately flooded. I spent the next thirty minutes telling my mother everything.

“Oh, my Erika. I wish I was there to help make this right. I’d go have some words with this producer woman and give her a piece of my mind.”

And I knew she would. My mother wouldn’t care if that’s not “how things are done” in New York. She’d stomp into Rebekka Eldridge’s office and give her a verbal tongue lashing. Just the thought of that made me smile.

“I just feel…so…helpless.”

“I’m sure you do, dear. But you’re not. You are a strong, brilliant, talented, independent woman. I would never tell your sisters this, but I’ve always admired you the most. You had a dream as a child, and you went after it. When that nastiness happened with Asher, you had your dark moments, but you pulled yourself out and became a cabaret star. I have zero doubts that you’ll be able to do the same thing again here.”

I wasn’t exactly a “star,” but I loved that my mom always saw me that way. “I just don’t know where to begin.”

“As Lao Tzu said, ‘the journey of life begins with one step.’ Just take a step, Erika. Let your feet be your guide. For today, maybe do something you love. What brings you the most joy in life?”

“It’s always been the theater,” I said.

“Well, don’t let these people take that away from you. Go, reconnect with your joy.”

“You’re right,” I said. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I will. I love you, Mom. More than you can ever imagine.”

“I love you more, Erika. And always know, you can always come home…even if it’s just for a visit.”

After we finished our conversation, I decided I needed to find my joy. I picked up my phone and called Johnny.

“What’s up, Erika?”

“Do you still know the Phantom?” As soon as the words escaped my mouth, I realized how odd that sounded. “Err…I mean, do you still know the guy playing the Phantom?”

“I knew what you meant. And yes. Why?”

“Think you can get us tickets for the matinee?”

“He told me to call him any time, but it may be late. Why?”

“I need to find my joy!”

“I have no idea what that means, but I’ll call you back in ten.” With that, he hung up the phone.

I sat there on my couch waiting to hear back from him. Sure enough, my phone started vibrating nine minutes later.

“I have two orchestra tickets for the 2:00 p.m. matinee. I told them to leave them at the box office under your name. He’s a huge fan of yours, by the way.”

“Really?”

“Yep. He caught your 54 Below show and absolutely loved it.”

“Ahh…that’s so sweet of him. Please thank him for me.”

“Nope, you can do it yourself. I had to promise you’d visit backstage after the show was over.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that, but that’s hardly the worst thing I’ve done to get tickets to see a Broadway show.”

“Who are you taking?”

“I was hoping to take you…” I said, almost a little too desperate sounding.

“No can do,” he said. “I already have plans with Amani.”

“Okay, I think I might just go next door…”

“Erika, you sly dog, you,” Johnny joked.

“It’s not like that,” I said a little too quickly.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

I hung up the phone, walked next door, and knocked on Kirk’s door. He opened it wearing a pair of low-rise jeans and a T-shirt. He immediately rested his hand on top of the door and leaned against it, which caused the bottom of his T-shirt to rise high enough for me to see the muscles of his stomach. It took all my powers not to swoon.

“What are you doing this afternoon?” I asked.

“Grading, then picking up Carissra from the bus station at 7:00. Why?”

“I know this is last minute, but wanna come see The Phantom of the Opera with me?”

“Today?”

“I have two tickets. My mother told me I needed to find my joy. And Phantom was the first show I ever saw. It was a touring production my mother took me to. It’s the show that made me fall in love with musical theater. Now, don’t get me wrong, the show has faults—a ton of faults—but it will always be one of my favorites. It introduced me to this crazy world I now live in.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, how often do you get to go see Phantom as a guest of the Phantom himself?”

“I have nothing to wear,” he said.

“Just wear what you would wear to teach.”

“I’m usually in khakis and a sweater these days. Not exactly what one wears to the theater, is it?” he asked.

“Wow, you haven’t been to the theater recently?”

“Not since like maybe grade school,” he admitted.

“Trust me, you’ll be dressed perfectly fine.”

“Okay, if you’re sure…”

“Trust me, I’m sure.”

“Then why not? Like you said. I can honestly say the Phantom has never invited me to anything before.”

“Amazeballs!”

“Did you really just say that?” he asked, wrinkling his face at me.

“I did, and I stand by it. Pick you up in an hour?”

“I’ll be ready.”

And like that, I had a date to the theater and the chance to reclaim my joy.

The show was terrific, as always. And Jerrod, the guy playing the Phantom, was absolutely a doll. He introduced us to everyone. Though he flirted with Kirk more than I would have liked. But what can I say, the Phantom has good taste. After the show, Kirk and I had sushi before heading to the Port Authority to pick up Carissra.

We walked back to the apartments as a group of giggling, crazy people. Carissra told us about her time in DC, and Kirk and I told her about the school party and seeing Phantom . Thankfully, we didn’t tell her about any of the other nastiness of the weekend. By the time we returned home, I was ready for bed. I said goodnight and headed into my apartment.

There was a piece of white paper folded in half sitting inside my doorway. I figured it was a message from the building housing committee, so I unfolded it and read it. “Erika, the company of The Naughty List voted unanimously in favor of you returning to the show today. I think we may make this happen. Everyone is beyond upset at how Eldridge handled the situation…especially when they found out what actually happened. Oh, and watch the paper for an article tomorrow…should be interesting. Yours in equity, Asher.”

I slept in on Monday and didn’t wake until almost 9:30 a.m. Dragging myself out of bed, I headed down to the gym to get a good run before figuring out what I would do for the day. Halfway through my run, Johnny suddenly materialized in front of the treadmill, arms flailing like a madman desperately seeking my attention.

I pulled the AirPod out of my left ear. “What has you in such a tizzy this morning?”

“Where have you been?” Johnny gasped. Clearly, he’d been running around.

I regarded the treadmill. “I’ve been running,” I said between breaths.

“You haven’t answered your phone.”

“I turned it off when I was running. Can it wait until I’m done?”

“No!” Johnny said, looking exasperated. “You’re needed at the theater,” he glanced at his watch, “like ten minutes ago.”

“What theater?” I said, still feeling the moving tread beneath my feet as I jogged.

“Girl! You. Are. Not. Keeping. Up.” He said with a clap in front of my face after each word.

“Okay, okay,” I said, turning the treadmill off. “You have my full attention. What’s the fuss?”

“Call Brice…Now!” He watched as I fiddled with my phone and searched for Brice’s number. Thankfully, there wasn’t anyone else in the gym at this mid-morning hour, so Johnny hadn’t disturbed anyone with his brief outburst.

“I take it Johnny found you,” Brice said.

“And good morning to you, too,” I said. “I was jogging. Why? What’s up?”

“Let’s say your castmates pulled a coup this morning. They’ve demanded you’re back in the show or they all walk. Surprisingly, this was backed by Equity. And the other unions came onboard.”

“Wait…what? Why?” I said, trying to understand what was happening.

“There was an article in The Post this morning by Michelle Bouvier. Asher and several other company members went on record saying firing you set a horrible precedent about privacy in the digital age. Bouvier dug up all the known facts about what happened to you. You come off sounding like the actual victim in all this.”

It took me a moment to process everything running through my head. Part of me was surprised that I was back in the show, and another part of me couldn’t believe that my leading champion was the man I’d spent the last three years hating.

“So,” Brice started again. “They wanted to see you at the theater at 10:00, but clearly, that isn’t happening.”

“Tell them I’ll be there by 11:30. I need to get ready.”

“I’m going to have them push the meeting back to one. I’m going to be there, Pearson is coming, and McCartan from Equity is planning to be there. We want to have a full-court press on your side of the table.”

“I’ll be there.” I hung up the phone and threw my arms around Johnny.

“Eww… You’re a hot, sweaty mess. I have girl-stank on me now.”

“Get over it,” I said, pulling him in for another hug.

“Go, get ready! And text me as soon as it’s over.”

His voice trailed as I rushed from the gym. Before leaving, I looked back at Johnny and said, “Will you please wipe off the treadmill for me? Thanks.”

“If it was anyone else…”

I didn’t hear the rest of the sentence because I was running to the elevator.

While I was in the shower, I got a follow up text.

Brice: Your team is meeting at Hello, Coffee! at twelve-thirty. We want to present a unified front when we walk into the Maurer Theatre.

I didn’t think I’d ever had a “team” before. I finished getting ready and headed out into the cold December weather. There was a light snow falling, but it melted on contact, creating slick sidewalks. I took my time and headed to the theater. When I got to Hello, Coffee!, Asher and Jeremy were drinking coffee at the corner table.

“There’s the girl of the hour,” Asher said. “How are you doing?”

I sat down at the table and said, “My head is swimming. I haven’t had time to process what’s going on.”

“That’s okay,” McCartan said. His face suddenly became serious as he added, “I’m sorry I didn’t put up more of a fight the other day. I should have trusted you.”

“Hey, I get it. The way the facts were laid out—along with the audio recording—made it look like I’d violated my contract.”

“But I should have known that you wouldn’t have been that sloppy as a professional. I truly am sorry.”

“Water off a duck’s back,” I said.

“Wow,” McCartan said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone use that in an actual conversation before. I mean, I remember when Jinkx Monsoon said it repeatedly on RuPaul’s Drag Race…”

“It’s a Midwestern thing,” Asher said. “We have all kinds of sayings you East Coasters never hear in conversations.”

“Good afternoon,” a voice said. I looked up to see Charles Pearson strolling over. He had his briefcase with him. As usual, he was dressed in a tailored suit that was probably more expensive than my entire wardrobe. And that’s where all my billable hours go.

“We’re waiting for Brice Stark,” Asher said. “Then we can head next door.”

“So, what exactly will happen when we get next door?” I asked.

“We have a game plan all mapped out,” Pearson said. “This is going to be fun. Rebekka Eldridge needs to be knocked down a peg or two, and I’m looking forward to being the man to do it.” I looked more shocked than I intended because he added, “Don’t worry. We’ve got this.”

Brice showed up a couple minutes later, and the entire group walked next door into the theater. Noam Weiss was pacing in the entryway when we got there.

He looked at my entourage and said, “It’s good to see you again, Erika. Right this way.”

My “team” followed him through a side door and into the theater’s corporate offices. He navigated the group to the same conference room I’d been fired out of days earlier.

Rebekka Eldridge sat at the head of the table in a black pantsuit ensemble with a delicate strand of pearls hanging around her neck. The scowl on her face told me everything I needed to know. Along with Eldridge was San Nicolás, Benedikt Einar, and now Weiss.

Asher pulled out a chair for me, which was rather chivalrous. He was turning into my surprising knight in slightly soiled armor.

“Well,” James Pearson started. “I’m glad everyone could make it on such short notice. We’re here to discuss the wrongful termination of my client.”

“What?” Rebekka exclaimed. “She broke her contract.”

“Did she?” Pearson asked. “Mr. Einar, please explain to your client how privacy laws work in the State of New York.”

“Pearson,” Einar started, “You know as well as I do that this area of law is far from exact. We do not know how the courts would rule in a case like this.”

“Maybe, but do you want to take this to court and let a jury decide? Who do you think they’ll side with? Mrs. Eldridge or Ms. Saunders?”

Eldridge started to say something, but Einar held up a hand, then whispered something in her ear. A disgusted look washed over her face. Whatever Einar had said, Eldridge was not happy.

“You’re right,” Einar said. “We don’t want there to be any more bad press, and litigation would drag this show through the mud.”

“So, what do you propose we do now?” Pearson said.

“We’re willing to bring Ms. Saunders back into the production,” Einar said.

“And…?” Pearson asked.

“And what?” Eldridge asked. “What else could she possibly want?”

“An apology,” Asher cut in, “in front of the cast and crew.”

“I have nothing to apologize for,” Eldridge said, crossing her arms.

“Oh, and back pay, of course,” Pearson added.

“She didn’t work,” Eldridge proclaimed. “Why should she be paid?”

“She missed three workdays because of you,” Pearson said. “I think back pay is the least you can do.”

“I would also like to amend all the original cast members’ contracts to earn them one percent of the show’s net profits and 0.25 percent of the net profits from all future commercial productions,” McCartan said.

“Preposterous,” Weis said. “No one gets a deal like that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” McCartan said. “Producers always seem to forget about Hamilton . So, there is precedent.”

Einar conferred with Eldridge before speaking. “I’ve conferred with my client. She’s willing to accept Ms. Saunders back into the company and apologize. She will not agree to the financial conditions you stipulated.”

“Then I won’t come back,” I blurted. I was probably the person who was the most surprised by my sudden outburst. “I’m with Mr. McCartan. The cast deserves a small stake in the production. Making this investment in the cast furthers our commitment to the project and its success.”

“She speaks,” Eldridge said.

“Keep that up,” Pearson said, glaring at Eldridge, “and we’ll make it two percent of the show’s net profits.” He narrowed his eyes on Eldridge, who huffed.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Pearson said. “Mrs. Eldridge will not communicate directly with my client. If she needs to say something to my client, she can have her lawyer pass it on to me, and I’ll convey the message to Ms. Saunders.”

“That’s preposterous,” Eldridge burst out. “I’m the producer. I have rights.”

“Maybe so,” Pearson acknowledged, “but you’re losing those rights each time you open your mouth.”

Eldridge let out a high-pitched whine and pouted, but she said nothing.

“Can you give us a few minutes to confer?” Einar asked.

“Of course,” Pearson said. “We’ll be in the hallway when you’re ready to accept our offer.” He said it so confidently. I was glad he was on my side.

Pearson stood, and the rest of us followed as we exited the conference room. We walked as far away from the door as possible before my group started conferring. The meeting had gone better than planned. I hadn’t been privy to any of the plan’s specifics, so I had been as shocked as Eldridge was with the demands. The demands were genius, but. I was surprised how far my team took them.

The door opened, and Benedikt Einar walked into the hallway and walked over to us. “We’re willing to accept everything, but we’d like to negotiate 0.8 percent on net profits and 0.20 percent on future earnings.”

“Done,” Pearson said as he extended his hand.

Benedikt turned to me. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad this worked out the way it did. I think the show is better with you in it.” With that, he turned around and headed into the conference room.

San Nicolás walked out and said, “Thank Santa that mess is over with.” He turned to me and said, “Welcome back, my dear. You’ve been truly missed. Are you ready to get back to rehearsals?”

I looked at Pearson, who nodded.

“I’m ready when you are.”

“Then let’s go. There’s no time like the present,” San Nicolás said enthusiastically. “I’ll give you a minute to say goodbye. We’ll start the afternoon rehearsal in fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll be there,” I said.

San Nicolás turned around and left the group.

“I don’t know where to begin,” I said. “Thank you! Thank all of you.” The waterworks started, and I did my best to squelch them to avoid ruining my makeup.

“No need to thank me,” Pearson said. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“Now go,” Brice said. “Rehearse and make this show a sellout.”

“And, Erika,” McCartan said, “now that you’re back with the company, I hope you’ll return to being the Equity Deputy. Asher is good, but he’s not you.”

“I’m not quite sure how I’m supposed to take that,” Asher said, putting his hands on his hips. We all laughed.

We said our goodbyes, and I walked with Asher up the stairs and into the theater. As soon as I walked on stage, the cast and crew burst into applause. Katherine ran over and flung her arms around me.

“It’s about Frosty time you got back here. It hasn’t been the same without you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Well, I guess you’re better than having poor Serafina read your lines over the speaker,” Peeter said as he patted me on the shoulder.

“She didn’t?”

“Yep. It was a bit of a snow show, if you know what I mean,“ Peeter replied.

“Speech,” someone yelled. And more people said the same thing. I finally gave in.

“I’m glad to be back on The Naughty List . I missed all of you. Now, we don’t have much time before we open, so let’s get this elf-ing show moving.”