Chapter 16 Let Her Cook #2
“And LuEsther is one sixty, right?” Stella asked.
“Correct.”
“Eve, it’s up to you,” Stella said. “But based on Chicago and San Diego numbers, I don’t think you’ll have an issue getting two hundred a night.”
Eve felt that sense of panic creeping up her throat, and she took a long sip of water in hopes of pushing it back down.
She wished she were as confident as Stella that she could find two hundred people a night, for eight weeks, to be interested in her play.
When she opened at BAM in Brooklyn, yes, it was two hundred fifty seats, but she had to fill them for only a week.
“What are the implications for the budget between the two theaters?” Eve asked, pretending she was feeling any semblance of control over her spiraling worries.
“About forty thousand difference,” said A’ja, the “numbers person,” as she’d been introduced.
“But Ms.Alvarez and her team are fine with the difference if Martinson is what you want,” Hassan said.
“We’d make back the difference in ticket sales.”
Yeah, if we actually sell them.
“Don’t overthink it, Eve,” Stella said.
That was like telling Eve not to breathe.
She was already imagining the ledes about her little activist project struggling to sell half the theater each night and closing early.
This was a make-or-break moment—her shot to be on Broadway, if it went well.
But if it didn’t, she could very well be knocking on obsolescence, forever a fledgling playwright who was almost successful.
She could already hear what her mother’s disappointment would sound like as she avoided talking about her failure of a daughter among her friends.
“We wouldn’t be offering these theaters if we didn’t think this work could sell them,” Hassan said. And again, his smile comforted Eve in a moment when she absolutely needed it.
Eve sighed and said a silent prayer that she wouldn’t live to regret it. “Let’s go with Martinson then,” she said.
The other five people on the call cheered as if she’d just announced she was giving them money instead of spending theirs, but she grinned at their response, a tinge of relief coming along with it.
She was scared of this undertaking, but it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have this challenge awaiting her whenever she went home.
The rest of the call went much easier as they settled on a director and discussed casting options.
Eve didn’t technically have a say in any of those things—she was still considered up-and-coming and didn’t have the cachet to bring in anyone, much less her dream actors.
But when she told them that Amina Pearson was her dream cast for the role of Sandra, they were enthusiastic about the idea.
Amina recently won an Emmy for her role in a Netflix limited series, meaning she was booked and busy, but no one thought she would be an impossible get, which bolstered Eve through the rest of the conversation.
Even after she found out that her dream director, Zindzi Jeffers, had already taken on a project in London.
“As long as the director is a Black woman,” Eve said, and she was adamant about it. She remembered when Eclipsed premiered as the first Broadway play to feature a cast and creative team of only Black women; it was a distinction Eve admired and vowed to continue.
“We’ll make it happen,” Stella said. Eve took it as an oath, knowing that Stella would do everything in her white woman power to bring Eve’s dreams to fruition.
They’d gotten this far precisely because Stella didn’t make promises or proclamations she couldn’t stand behind.
In fact, Stella said the Public was a great venue for this piece the first time she read it. And now, here they were.
When they finally released Eve from the Teams call, with most of her misgivings at bay, she immediately texted Jamie to let him know of her triumph.
Fri, Aug 8 11:24AM
Eve Ambroise: It didn’t go terribly. And I now have a tentative opening date of May 7.
Eve snorted at the text message bubble turning green as it sent and threw her phone to her coffee table as she returned to her laptop.
Her rough draft for Down from Dover was, indeed, rough, but the conversation with the Public left her feeling inspired and even a little excited, seeing firsthand that their belief in her was real.
If things worked out the way she was willing to admit she wanted, this play could debut right after Gamba Adisa completed its run.
But that would mean finishing it—as in, as close to a final draft as possible—by the end of the year.
That was a much more onerous proposition.
Luckily, Jamie texted back before she could spiral again.
Fri, Aug 8 11:31AM
Jamie Gallagher: Is it too soon to say ‘I told you so’?
Eve grinned at his response, knowing he would say something along those lines. In the few weeks they’d been…hanging out, she’d come to appreciate that he was not only confident, but also a little cocky every now and then.
Eve Ambroise: Please know that there’s never a right time to say “I told you so” to me.
Jamie Gallagher: Sounds like a defense mechanism for someone who’s used to being wrong…
Eve Ambroise: …Why do I talk to you?
Jamie Gallagher: Seriously, doesn’t it feel good to have that weight off your chest?
Eve Ambroise: I don’t know that it’s gone. I’m still scared out of my mind. But it feels good to move forward, at least.
Eve Ambroise: I feel like I’ve been stuck for a long time.
Jamie Gallagher: What are you so scared of?
Eve Ambroise: Failing.
Jamie Gallagher: Can I ask why you’re fantasizing about failing when you’re smack dab in the middle of succeeding?
Eve balked at his latest text, the wisdom taking her by surprise.
Not because she thought Jamie was being vapid or anything close to it—he was possibly the most thoughtful person she knew—but she simply did not expect him to read her like that.
Why was she skipping over the good to worry about the bad?
Eve Ambroise: How about you mind your business lol.
Jamie Gallagher: If I’m right, you can just say that.
Eve Ambroise: You’re not right! It’s not that simple.
Eve Ambroise: (But you’re right.)