Page 92 of A Certain Appeal
“Absolutely.”
I look at Andrea. “You still game?”
“And undermine that Wickham shit? With pleasure. But Charles is right, Kitten,” she says, voice heavy. “This would be a huge undertaking, and incredibly time-consuming.”
“Let’s not worry about time. Let’s focus on what we can control.”
“Time still matters, though, Ben,” says Jane. “Most of us don’t have day jobs. If this is going to take a few months, that’s time without a chunk of income for most of us.”
“Which would have been the case during Meryton’s remodel, too,” I say, hoping to combat the group’s stubborn practicality with some of my own. “Could we produce the show somewhere else for a while?”
“If you’re willing to trek to Astoria, the club Momma works out of has nights free,” Ming offers. “And I know Darlene would give us a night or two out in Bushwick, but I’d hate to ask. She’s doing her own thing out there, and I don’t want to cut into that, y’know?”
I nod. “Understood.”
Chloe tugs at the neck of her shirt, a nervous habit she’s had since we were kids, and I brace myself. “I don’t want to be a spoilsport, Lizard. If all this works out, great. Perfect, really. It would be a huge opportunity for a lot of people...”
Gales places one of his big hands over hers and nods. “But as it stands, it’s uneven ground for us to pin our futures on.”
“I get it.” It stings, but I do. “But outside of all that, say Charles and Andrea luck onto a property and we could get this off the ground in a reasonable amount of time. Or,” I add, desperate, “Darcy and his uncle find out some legal way to get Meryton back to us. He’s with lawyers right now, looking through my work to see if there’s a way to link my stuff to what Wickham stole. If that pans out, there’s a chance Wickham won’t be able to keep the club. That’s two scenarios where we’re still together.”
I’m losing them, though I don’t think I ever had them in the first place. And I don’t blame them. I’ve been here before. Again, the feeling of falling threatens to knock me from my seat.
Jane’s gaze is too pitying for me to hold. “Meryton was a reliable gig, but gigs come and go, Ben—”
“What if it was more than a gig?” I ask without thinking, but there’s something to it. The conversation I had with Ming and Chloe, Ming’s thoughts on scouting... “What if it was something you had a stake in? Not the property, but the concept.” A new hope ignites in my chest, burning brighter than before. It’s like Friday’s moment of inspiration with Chloe at Pemberley: this isit. “What if we all did?”
Tonic looks up from her thumb-chewing. “All of us?”
Andrea eyes me, tapping the base of her champagne flute. “What’s going on in that clever head of yours, kitty cat?”
“Whatever will get you all to consider this?” I admit, and she snorts back a laugh. “Like Chloe said, it could be a huge opportunity, but only if we make it one. So think about it. What would we want the show to look like? And I mean in every capacity. Do we want an overall theme for the venue—”
“Ugh,” says Ming. “No. I love what Darlene’s doing, but I’d hate to have that kind of a restriction. Theme nights? Sure. And holiday shows—”
I clap. “Yes! This is what I’m talking about. We were completely at the mercy of the last owner. And not to say that Charles would treat us poorly”—I look to Charles, and he holds up his hands, like he’s showing he’s unarmed—“but we can make this work for all of us. Let’s get into the bones of this thing.”
The faces across from me brim with hope too tempered with reason to act on.
“I know it’s a long shot. And maybe it’s stupid to get fired up like this. Maybe—” I snap my mouth shut to trap in what I was about to say.Maybe it is just me.
“Ben?” Jane takes my hand. “What is it?”
I keep my focus on Jane’s elegant fingers. “Jane and Chloe and Gales know, but I gave up a huge opportunity a few years back because of something like this.” I let out a dry laugh. “Exactly like this, actually. Someone stole my ideas. I told Wickham about it, and that’s probably how he got this whole shady, shitty enterprise rolling. But when it happened, I ran away. And I don’t regret it. I can’t.”
I meet Jane’s worried gaze and smile. “The move brought me to you.” I squeeze his fingers. “It introduced me to burlesque and Meryton and so many things and people I can’t imagine living without anymore. I only regret leaving LA for the reasons I did and for hiding from that shame so long, I didn’t realize it didn’t have a hold over me anymore.”
As I say it, I realize it’s true. What happened then wasn’t my fault, but how I reacted was my choice. The same goes for today, and I’m going to choose better. I squeeze Jane’s hand again. He’s smiling at me, eyes shiny. “I’m not letting this happen again. Not to us.”
“Besides,” says Ming, “we have three pitchers of mimosas and a swanky private room.” She raises her nearly empty glass. “What the hell else are we going to do?”
I release Jane’s hand to clap mine together. “Then let’s get to work.”
We lose the room at four, a little earlier than anticipated, but we’ve been plenty productive. Charles has already lined up viewings at three properties, and Ming and Jane have come up with a dozen potential performers, as well as a solid list of themes and events specific to certain numbers the prospective acts perform. We’ve filled pages of hotel stationery with ideas, and I tote them to the suite upstairs, where I spend another hour trying to turn them into something cohesive.
I’m still sprawled on the couch thing when the suite’s lock grinds to announce Darcy’s return. He doesn’t have the bag, and while it makes my stomach twist just a little, I knew that would be the case. He called before he left to ask if the lawyers could hang on to my work a little longer.
“Hey there.” He toes off his shoes before stepping over the big wedge-shaped cushion forming the back of the couch. His socks are patterned with little sriracha bottles.
