Page 23 of After Midnight

“Rodney, don’t give this kid any grief. You’ve pulled the same stunt on all of us. Just focus on your own set and pray you’ve improved it enough that Ballsworth doesn’t kick you to the curb… again.”

The man who spoke, Feldman, wasn’t much older than me and wasn’t much to look at, but he used his appearance to his advantage. His self-deprecating humor and skilled delivery made him one of the funniest comics at the club. As such, he commanded respect from the other performers, and I could tell even Rodney got the guy’s message to back off.

My asshat ex quickly left our table to go perform and, bless him, the funniest thing about his updated set was how awful it turned out. Seriously, the man’s jokes bombed worse than mine before I’d had my one-on-one research sessions with Dominic and my fathers. The only laughs in the audience came from a few mocking hecklers in the back. I would’ve felt vindicated if the whole thing hadn’t been so uncomfortable and painful to watch. I assumed Rodney threw in the towel early because he left the stage well before his set time expired. With the stage empty and the crowd on the verge of boredom, Feldman ducked backstage to prepare to go on earlier than usual.

A few minutes later, shouting from backstage echoed through the club. Then Rodney reemerged, hollering about Ballsworth not knowing talent when it was handed to him on a silver platter, before the idiot stormed out of the club. This time to a loud round of applause from the audience. His finest performance to date, no doubt.

I caught sight of a smiling Feldman standing on the stage, apparently waiting until all the commotion died down. “I should hire him to pave the way for me like that every night,” he said and nearly got a standing ovation.

I enjoyed watching Feldman’s set, and used the opportunity to study his impeccable timing and delivery. The man excelled at his craft, and I soaked up all the pointers I could like a sponge.

After the show, Feldman and the other comics joined our table in the bar. The servers brought all of us a shot of our choice on the house. That was strange, if not downright suspect, since Ballsworth was nothing if not a tightwad. Then he joined us for a drink.

After Ballsworth drained his glass, he announced, “We’ve been bought out. A national comedy group approached me about a month ago and they’ve been impressed enough with you all that they asked to buy the club.” He shrugged as every single one of us stared open-mouthed at him. “Truth is, I’m getting old and I no longer have the energy for running this place as it should be. I’m just a grumpy old man, and I’ve noticed that’s hurting business. So, when these guys asked me to sell, I signed on the dotted line.”

“What does that mean for us?” Feldman asked, gesturing around the table.

Our boss, who I mentally switched to thinking of as Hallsworth since using his nickname no longer seemed funny, sighed. “If you’re able to keep your spot, it means you might become famous.”

We all looked at him like he’d grown a horn in the middle of his forehead. “How did you come to that conclusion?” Ashton asked.

“The group that bought the club, it’s Third County.”

For a moment, something that never happens amongst a group of comedians happened. We fell completely silent.

Finally, Ashton asked, “TheThird County? As in, one of the most famous improv schools and performance venues in the country?”

Hallsworth nodded. “They’ve been watching our shows on and off for the past year. In fact, they were here tonight. However, the agreement was they’d let me break the news to you all in private. I didn’t want your reaction to give you a black eye in case one of you took it bad.”

Just then, Kaitlyn Cross, the oldest performer and one of only three women in the group, spoke up. “Well, it’s about time. Maybe I’ll make it big and end up onSaturday Night Livebefore I hit ninety.”

That eased the tension, and we all congratulated Hallsworth on his sale.

Inevitably, some of us would be let go. I think we all knew that even though it went unsaid. If Third County was coming to Denver, it was because they were looking to break into a new market. As a newer comic, and being a gay man on top of that, I had to wonder if I would be first on the chopping block.

Chapter nine

Dominic

On Monday, when I expected Margarette to either accept or reject my ultimatum, I received a phone call from my attorney instead.

“Your stepmother has filed a lawsuit against you, claiming she’s entitled to part of your inheritance,” Mr. Langdon explained. “She’s arguing that because your trust money has been used to help support your sisters and maintain a certain lifestyle, and we allowed it to happen for years, you owe her child support.”

“You told me that wasn’t something she could get,” I said, feeling frustrated and concerned.

“It’s not, and I’m guessing her own attorney advised her as such,” he said. “What this lawsuit does do, though, is it locks your trust down for the time being and prevents you from being able to kick her out of the house.”

I struggled to understand the full implications of that, but one thing did spring to mind. “I just bought a new car. Could that create problems?”

“No, you bought it outright before the lawsuit was filed, so it’s in the clear. First thing tomorrow, I’ll file to have the case dismissed. I can’t imagine any judge allowing this to progress since, in effect, she’s admitting she committed a felony and lied on her reports about how she spent the money. We literally have the receipts.”

“What about the trips she took and lied about having taken me and the girls along?”

“I’ve already alerted the county prosecutor and I’ve hired a private investigator who will chase that down as well.”

“I want custody of the girls too.”

“Yeah, that’s going to be a different sort of hurdle, one that we need to approach strategically,” Mr. Langdon said. “If we take her to court for custody now, before the lawsuit is resolved, it’ll look like vengeance.”

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