Hidden by the curtain, Keith peeked out from the side of the stage. The house was filling up nicely. Every seat for tonight’s performance was reserved. In fact, the entire run of the play was sold out.
All these people had expected to see Belinda Winthrop when they bought their tickets, Keith thought as he looked out at the audience. Most important, one of the potential backers for the movie version of Devil in the Details was sitting out there tonight. Wanting to get a better idea of what his money would be financing, he’d come all the way from Los Angeles to watch Belinda play Valerie. Instead, the backer was going to be seeing Langley Tate in the role.
Everything was unraveling. All the months of planning and working and cajoling to make Devil in the Details Keith Fallows’s debut as a film director were coming to naught because Belinda Winthrop had failed him. It was all Belinda’s fault. How dare she pull out on him?
Keith spun away from the curtain. Maybe all wasn’t lost, he thought. Maybe Langley would give such a stunning performance that he could sell the idea of an ingenue in the role. It was a long shot, Keith knew, but stranger things had happened, hadn’t they?
Keith’s momentary optimism sank as he remembered the afternoon rehearsal. Langley had been a disappointment. When one had seen Belinda in the role, Langley’s ability seemed so limited. The director had to admit to himself that he hadn’t helped matters by criticizing his new leading lady when he should have been building her up.
He should have controlled his temper with Langley, just as he should have controlled his fits of anger with Belinda. If he had done that, he wouldn’t be in the position he was in right now. Keith knew his temper was his weak spot, but he rationalized that, as a creative artist, it was his right, even his obligation, to feel things passionately. Let the rest of the plodders in the world play by their silly social rules. He operated by his own.