Page 7 of Close Match
If not, they’re welcome to whatever of mine is left.
Four
Evangeline
After I finish my lap around Central Park, I dash past my doorman, waving. Punching the PH button and typing in my code, I pull out my phone. I have about an hour until my first class at the Broadway Dance Center. That leaves me just enough time to grab a quick shower, get a bite, and make my way there.
There are some habits that I can’t break, no matter how successful I’ve become. If I want to keep the pack of eager young actresses at bay, I have to be at the top of my game not only vocally but physically. It’s why I’ll leave the nights out clubbing to the younger cast members. Me? Even during performances, I keep up a steady routine of running three times a week, and every Monday I spend all day in the studio fine-tuning my moves.
Without fail.
Dropping my running gear on the way to my en suite bathroom, I’m startled when the phone in my hand rings. It’s my agent, Sepi. “Hey, what’s up?” Sepi’s represented me since I was in college.
“How do you feel about London again after the run ofMiss Me?”
Laughing, I turn on the knobs to heat the water. “Not happening. Bris’s pregnant.”
“Really? Oh my God! I’ll have to send her something.” Sepi is one of the few members of our inner circle we trust, so I know Bristol won’t care that I shared her news.
“Not yet. She refuses to let us buy her anything until the twelve-week mark.”
“When’s that?”
“In about six more weeks.”
“Then she should start expecting regular deliveries after that,” Sepi continues smoothly.
“Can I put you on speaker? I’m going to be late for class if I don’t shower.” Pressing a few buttons, I step in and sigh in happiness. Sepi chuckles.
“It amazes me and appalls me how regimented you are.”
“Why? Because you’re not?” Sepi gave up her regimented workouts after her third child was born.
“No, because you still look like you did when you graduated college, and I look close to our age,” she retorts.
I grin and am rewarded with a mouthful of water. Sputtering, I ask, “Was that the only offer?”
“There’s a record deal on the table.”
“Cast recording?”
“Actually, no.” I pause in the act of soaping my body to stare at the phone.
“Seriously?”
“They weren’t sure what. The record company pitched Christmas music, but that’s so trite…”
“Lullabies,” I murmur. “And children’s music. What about something like that?”
There’s silence on the other end of the line, which is always a good sign. “I’ll get back to them and let you know. Great idea, Evangeline.”
“I have a pretty great inspiration these days.” There’s a thousand-watt smile that can be heard in my voice.
“I completely understand that. I’ll let you go for now. We’ll talk soon.” Sepi hangs up while I’m already thinking of songs I could record. I think of all the music my mother sang to Bristol and me as kids and just smile.
This is going to work out beautifully.
* * *
