Chapter Twenty-Four #2
“The disconnect.”
Evelyn squinted, unsure exactly what he meant by that.
Still, being the EP—understanding the unbearable burden of carrying such immense talent—she tried to help him work through whatever was stalling him.
She searched the room for the disconnect and found it in the form of a cold breeze.
She motioned to Demi, who immediately closed the door to a stage exit.
Evelyn raised an eyebrow at Jared, another gentle nudge to his delicate soul to get moving so they could all begin rehearsals.
He didn’t take the hint. Instead, he ignored her.
He began gliding around the room once more, arms waving in the air, like some sort of weird-ass leather-wearing Thanksgiving float that could only move crotch first.
“We can rehearse, right?” he began, meandering.
“We can put on the characters’ clothing, sing all the pretty songs, dance those happy steps together, but do we really connect with the characters we are playing?
I mean . . . what is this play actually about?
An old miser who learns to change his ways?
Three ghosts who teach a man the meaning of Christmas? ”
“Sounds about right to me,” Evelyn offered up.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s not it, at all.”
She was beginning to get annoyed. Still, she thought back to the many lessons she had garnered from her predecessor, Marla Feinberg, and tried to reel him in. “I think—” Evelyn forced herself to smile “—if we could just get started on rehearsal, you may find that the answer will appear to you.”
“Noooo,” he said, sighing heavily. “That won’t do, at all.”
“I’m sorry?” Evelyn squinted.
“It’s the vibe,” he said definitively.
“The what?”
“The energy,” he said, getting more antsy. “The whole vibe in here is off. There’s no love. There’s no passion. I think we need to take a step back and rethink everything.”
Her smile faded. If Jared Sparks thought she was going to take a step back and rethink everything on set, with only three days left until showtime, he was about to be proven wrong.
“I have an idea,” she said, waving over Demi.
“Why don’t we get the final costume fittings done now. I think once you have some clothes on—”
He breathed all the air in through his nose. “It’s you.”
“Excuse me?”
“A production,” he began, leaving Evelyn to impart his wisdom on the waiting cast and crew.
“A production needs to feel like home. It needs to embody all the best that home is—love and connection, ardor and passion, a large, specially designed bed made for you and the six beautiful women you met while tripping on ayahuasca—”
“Okay!” Evelyn cut him off. “That’s enough now.”
Jared frowned. “I just want this place to feel like home, Evelyn. I can’t do my best work . . . without feeling comfortable in my new family.”
Evelyn rubbed out the migraine that was now, not surprisingly, returning. Granted, Jared was a little over-the-top, a little wacky, but she could handle this. She could handle him. She just needed to keep her cool and manage her talent. She took a deep breath all the way through her nostrils.
“Of course,” Evelyn said, touching her heart. “We’re on the same team, after all. And I know that someone of your level and caliber needs to feel comfortable. So, how can I help make New York and the set of A Christmas Carol feel more like home?”
He did not hesitate. “How about a tour?”
“A tour?” She blinked, relieved. “You want a tour of CBS7-T studios? That’s it?”
“It helps me,” he explained. “Plus, I like knowing where the vending machines are, in case I want a soda, or some of those tasty American snacks you have, like Cheetos.”
“Cheetos are good,” she found herself admitting.
He nodded, and then his eyes softened. The crotch-float disappeared, as he gazed at her with the sweetest and most needy puppy-dog eyes. “People always forget,” Jared said, sadly, “that despite being a global phenomenon worth hundreds of millions of dollars . . . I’m also human.”
Suddenly, Evelyn felt like the one who was being ridiculous.
Of course Jared didn’t feel settled. He was a delicate personality, who liked candy and Cheetos.
He needed to feel at home to do his best work.
She had misinterpreted his hesitation as being a problematic darling starlet.
Instead, all the man wanted was some nurturing.
Evelyn was excellent at nurturing. She had raised up countless women at CBS7-T studios, and watched proudly as they went on to new roles and promotions. She could easily show the same kindness to Jared.
“Demi,” Evelyn said, calling over her second-in-command. “Mr. Sparks here would love a tour of CBS7-T studios before he begins. Would you do us all the honor and give Mr. Sparks the absolute best tour of—”
“Oh no,” Jared said, waving Demi away. “That won’t do, at all, I’m afraid.”
“I assure you, Mr. Sparks—” Evelyn did not want to leave rehearsal to play tour guide “—Demi is not only capable of giving a tour, but she’s my most trusted member of the team, my second-in-command. She knows every crevice and crack of these buildings as well as I do.”
“But I don’t need Demi,” he said flatly. “I need you.”
“You don’t need me.”
“How can you say that, Evelyn?” Jared was aghast. “You are the mommy of this production, after all. You are the sacred earth goddess, rising from oozing chaos—a perfect and voluptuous volcano, spilling over with magma and life. Your hungry children are calling for you, Evelyn. Do you hear them?” He cupped his hand over one ear and began repeating the words, the first in a whisper, the rest growing louder.
“There’s no home without our mommy. There’s no home without our mommy. There’s no home without—”
“All right!” she snapped at him. “I’ll take you on a goddamn tour!”
Jared smiled. “Thank you, Mother.”
“Do not—” She closed her eyes. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not your mother!”
The words exploded from her lips. Jared, however, only raised one eyebrow. “So, you prefer Mommy, then?”
It was pointless. The global superstar was clearly existing on some other supernatural plane that none of them had been invited to.
And yet, as annoying as Jared was, he was also kind of brilliant.
He wasn’t wrong when he described the discord seeping through CBS7-T studios.
Evelyn had felt that same disharmony every day since David had returned to set.
But the way he called her Mother, latching on to the word among all the others, like her nipples were still leaking milk through her blouse .
. . She couldn’t stand to hear that word.
It caused her entire body to buzz with anxiety.
Beads of sweat pooled around the nape of her neck.
Everything hurt too much. If it had been anyone else who had said such things, she would have fired the man right then and there.
But Evelyn couldn’t afford to lose Jared Sparks.
Her gamble had to pay off . . . which meant she had to keep the rock star happy.
“Demi,” Evelyn said, leaning in to whisper. “Do you think you could handle taking over rehearsal this morning while I accompany Jared on a tour of CBS7-T studios and get his costume in order and sorted?”
Demi’s eyes widened. “Absolutely!”
“Are you sure?” Evelyn asked. It would be the first time, ever, that Evelyn had handed off full rein over such a large-scale production to her protégé. “If you’re worried about it, or have any questions, you can just give me a buzz on my—”
“Do what you need to do,” Demi said, practically tearing Evelyn’s tablet from her hands.
She wasted no time pushing her boss out of the building.
“Enjoy! Have fun. Have lunch, even. Don’t worry about a thing!
I’ll have everything over here managed, and you two just come back whenever Jared feels good and ready.
That’s the most important thing, right?”
“Right.” Evelyn narrowed her focus. It seemed that she was the one being managed.
Demi took off. Evelyn watched her protégé return to the center of the room and call everyone to order.
Despite how annoyed she was at Jared Sparks for wasting her time, she felt a tiny bubble of pride appear in her chest. Demi was well on her way to becoming an executive producer herself.
“So,” Jared asked casually. “We’ll be getting lunch, too?”
“Don’t count on it,” Evelyn grumbled, and then waved for the rock star to follow. The good mood she had begun her day with quickly faded and was replaced by the unmistakable sensation of a migraine developing.