Acting Up (38 page)

“I would stay here permanently? Give up my career to teach drama classes?”

“I wasn't suggesting you change your whole life,” Meredith said. “You seem happy here, though. I watched you working with the students, and you seem to be in your element. Not to mention whatever is going on with Ethan Thomas. It's a shame those pictures were leaked to the press, but they didn't lie.”

Addison stared at the grimy windows, which seemed to frown at her in disappointment. “It's complicated.”

“How is love complicated?'

Okay, the word may have been swirling around in Addison's head for weeks, but hearing it aloud caused her heart to jolt in a desperate denial. “I'm not in love. I've only known Ethan a couple of months. Not to mention, I'm getting over a nasty divorce.”

A smile curved up the corners of Meredith's mouth. “I didn't know there were rules about how fast someone can fall.”

“They're my rules,” Addison said with an edge of panic. “I've already let one man screw up my life, and it won't happen again. I've worked too hard to get where I am. Lived in dumps with no electricity because I couldn't afford to pay my bill. Ate noodles for two years straight—”

Meredith held up a hand. “Hey, I've been there. I did the starving artist thing, too. I sacrificed everything for the allure of fame and money. My pride, my faith, my self-worth. Until I didn't know who I was anymore. I tasted the brass ring, but in the end, it left me bitter and alone. Remember that when you're thousands of miles away from everyone you love, chasing your dream.”

Dress rehearsals were notorious for being awful. Not rough or unpolished, but unmitigated disasters. The final run-through of
She's a Beauty
was proving to be no exception to this rule. So far, Peter Johnson had turned left every time he was supposed to go right, Nina Walters had accidentally punched Brad Connors in the nose during the first dance number, Carla Stephens had blanked out on every line, and one of the chorus members was so sharp she could pierce steel.

Addison and Marjorie had been watching the horror unfold for the past hour.

“Don't worry. Dress rehearsals are always bad,” Addison said for perhaps the two hundredth time, as Amanda missed her entrance cue. An eerie silence fell over the theatre, and those left floundering had no clue what to do.

“This can't be happening,” Marjorie said.

“I'm coming! I'm coming!” Amanda's disembodied voice sounded from off stage. “Wardrobe malfunction!”

“Make a note to remind the cast to prepare to ad lib in case they need to get out of a jam like a missed entrance or botched line,” Addison said, surprised at how calm she sounded.

Amanda raced out, still pulling on the sweater she was supposed to have changed into the scene before.

“Make a note—”

“Amanda needs to do that costume change at the end of Scene Two and not the middle of Scene Three. Got it,” Marjorie said, jotting down the directive on a yellow notepad. “Why aren't you freaking out?”

“A bad dress rehearsal means a great performance.”

“What?” Marjorie burst out. “That's like a test pilot saying the engine has failed, but the landing should be perfect.”

“It's one of the unwritten rules of
Welcome to the Theatre
,” Addison said with a shrug. “Like everyone knows it's bad luck to put on
Macbeth
.”

“Why is it—” Marjorie stopped herself from asking. “Never mind. I can't take this.”

Addison eyed her assistant with deadly seriousness. “Don't you dare lose it now. Tomorrow is going to be crazy, and you need to keep it together. I need you to be on point.”

The stern words seemed to add steel to Marjorie's spine. “Right.”

Addison turned her attention back to the stage. The scene in the middle of Act III was nearing its climax, leading up to the big confrontation between Ellie and Bree before the prom scene. Before long, only Michelle and Lisa were left on stage. The two girls circled each other like sharks.

Lisa's voice filled the auditorium, sounding silky and menacing at the same time.
“New clothes won't make you fit the mold. A hairstyle can't disguise your common roots.”

“Your perfect face masks a heart of stone. Your smile can't hide the truth,”
Michelle's clear soprano parried the thrust.

As the two combatants battled, the tension rose. When Addison had first staged this scene, Michelle had held back, cowering before the more confident Lisa. As Michelle's self-esteem grew over the course of rehearsals, she'd become more assertive. With each passing day, the tension had risen between the two girls. Addison wasn't sure the animosity was an act, either.

Today, Michelle had tapped into a new sense of power. She no longer waited for her rival to move in for the kill, but countered with a clear challenge.

“Look at them,” Marjorie said. “They've kicked it up a notch.”

“They've kicked something up.”

The latest aggression from the former passive Wallflower set off sparks in the Queen Bee. Rage vibrated through Lisa's body as she crowded in closer to her prey. Tension grew in Addison's chest, and she found herself leaning forward. She didn't know why, but somehow the line from playacting to reality had been crossed in the last couple minutes.

At one point, Michelle put out a hand and pushed her rival back. Then she spun around, heading for her mark across the stage. Even from the middle of the auditorium, Addison saw the flash of venom streak across Lisa's face. Right before the girl pounced.

As in, literally pounced on Michelle's back.

Fortunately, Michelle was no lightweight, so she didn't fall. She did stagger, however. Screams erupted, and the rest of the cast emerged from the wings. Lisa was shouting, too. Incoherent words no one could make out.

Addison and Marjorie raced toward the stage as Luke and Brad pulled the two girls apart.

Luke had the misfortune to grab Lisa, who fought back like a wildcat. “Let go of me, Luke Mitchell!”

“Calm down! Ow!” Luke growled as Lisa's foot connected with his shin.

Addison stepped in front of her. “Stop it. Right. Now.”

A glare of pure wrath shot from the depths of Lisa's eyes, and for a moment Addison thought the girl might lunge at her, too.

“Don't even think about it,” Addison warned.

A flicker of awareness dawned behind Lisa's eyes right before, and she broke down into hacking sobs. “Why did you have to cast her?”

By now the cast was eyeing Lisa as if they were afraid her head was going to do a three-sixty while spitting up pea soup.

Lisa was too focused on her anguish to notice anyone else. “Her parents were supposed to make her quit!”

The moment seemed suspended in time. Like cherries in a slot machine, everything fell into place. Even so, Addison couldn't quite make herself believe the awful truth.

“Lisa…”

“The lead should have been mine!”

How could she have missed the obvious? “Luke, let her go,” Addison said.

Luke hesitated, obviously afraid Lisa would go after Michelle again. Finally, he lowered his arms. Lisa stayed where she was. She blinked, as if coming out of a deep trance.

“Everyone take a break,” Addison said, without taking her eyes off the saboteur. “I need to talk to Lisa alone.”

Murmurs from the cast went up as the kids shuffled off.

Sudden awareness leached the color from Lisa's cheeks, and she stared at the floor.

Addison's suspicions hardened into a cold certainty. “Go wait for me in the Green Room.”

Lisa's head jerked up and stark fear replaced anger.

“Don't even think about trying to sneak out,” Addison said. “I'll hunt you down if I have to.”

The bitter taste of betrayal coated Addison's mouth as she watched Lisa drift off through the curtains.

“What just happened here?” Marjorie asked.

“I've solved a mystery. Unfortunately, it might mean Lisa will get her way after all.”

Marjorie's brow furrowed. “I have no idea what you said.”

“You might want to find out if there's any red paint at Lisa's house.”

“Red paint?” She gasped. “You think Lisa is behind all the mischief?”

With a heavy heart, Addison nodded. “I'm sure of it.”

“I don't understand,” Marjorie said, staring at the place where Lisa had disappeared. “She's in the play.”

“Not as the lead.”

“She might have been angry, but to try and get you to cancel the show? I can't believe it.”

“I suspect she thought Michelle's parents would do the dirty work by forbidding her to be in the show. Instead, I changed their mind.”

“So, the fight instigated between Luke and Brad? The red paint? The costumes?”

Heart aching, Addison could do nothing but nod.

For the first time, she sensed defeat in her intrepid assistant director. “What are you going to do?” Marjorie asked.

“Not a clue.”

Lisa was slumped in an ugly leather couch in the Green Room when Addison found her. She let the door slam, satisfied when the girl jumped.

“So, here's my dilemma,” Addison began, in a tone one might use to discuss the weather. “If I kick you out of the show now, we won't be able to go on and your plan will have worked. On the other hand, you'll hardly pay the consequences for your actions if I let you stay. Although, perhaps having to watch someone else get the glory would be punishment enough.”

“I never meant for things to get so out of control.” For once all the arrogance was stripped from Lisa's voice. “I knew Michelle's parents would flip when they found out she'd been cast. They've always been so strict. Instead, you ruined everything.”

“I know. Were you the one who instigated the mini-coup against me directing the show?”

“No, that was all my parents. They—” Lisa gulped, plucking at a hole in the couch. “They expect a lot from me. Especially my mother. Perfection at all times. Number one. You should have seen the look on her face when I told her I'd been cast as Bree. She didn't speak to me the rest of the day. Like I'd cast myself in a lesser part just to disappoint her.”

Mommy issues. Addison could identify. Of course,
her
mother hadn't cared if she did well in anything. Becoming a famous actress hadn't even made an impression.

Or had Addison chosen such a path so her mother would pay attention again? She recognized a lot of herself in the Queen Bee. Shoot, she'd turned herself
into
a Queen Bee. Ironically, there was now a whole town full of people who noticed, and not because she was Addison Covington.

“You know, Lisa, I understand wanting to be the best. The star. The one everyone looks at with envy. All my life I wanted to be famous.”

“And now you are.”

“Being famous didn't shield me from disappointment,” Addison said. “Having all the money in the world doesn't mean people will love you more. I've discovered real acceptance isn't about being the lead. You can be the star and still be alone. Still feel unloved.”

“I wanted to be the star so bad,” Lisa said, her voice shaking.

“Honey, there are going to be plenty of times in your life when you won't get what you want. You'd better come up with a better way to deal with disappointment than starting fires and slopping paint around.”

“It's more than that. When I heard Michelle sing, I knew she was better than me, and I got so jealous. You don't know what it was like watching her. She had my part, and then Luke Mitchell, too. It got so I couldn't look at her without wanting to scratch her eyes out.”

Okay, so Addison had
a lot
in common with this girl. Of course, Michelle hadn't stolen Lisa's husband, but the similarities were eerie.

“Again, you need to come up with a better way to deal with frustration,” Addison said.

“You punched your co-star because she took what you wanted.”

Sure. Point out her mistakes.

“When did I ever say you should emulate me?” Addison said, forcing herself not to bristle in defense. “I screwed up my life because I couldn't handle losing. I lost my job, my reputation, and maybe even my entire career. I'd hate to see you end up the same way.”

Lisa bit her lip. “Are you going to kick me out of the show?”

“I should.”

Tears formed in her blue eyes, one perfect drop sliding down her cheek. “Does everyone have to know what I did?”

“I'm sure they'll figure it out on their own.”

The tears were streaming now. “They're going to hate me.”

“Possibly,” Addison said, not willing to sugarcoat anything. “My real dilemma is there's no one else who can play your part.”

“I have an understudy.”

“Yes, but she isn't nearly as talented as you are.”

“You think I'm talented?” Lisa asked, a hopeful light returning to her eyes.

“Of course. I wouldn't have cast you otherwise. You have a powerful presence on stage. Without you the show will fall apart.”