FELICITY GESTURED FOR ISOBEL and Hugh to take a seat in the back of the house, where she, Jethro, Ezra, and Kelly were gathered.
“First of all, I want to thank you for being prepared,” Felicity said. “You did an excellent job tonight.”
Isobel felt her chest swell with pride. “Thank you.”
“As I mentioned briefly at intermission, we’d like you to take over the role, but there is one issue we need to address,” Felicity continued. “Arden is—er, was a member of Actors’ Equity. That means we have to replace her with an Equity performer. If you want to continue in the role, you’ll have to join the union.”
Isobel’s mouth dropped open. In all her fantasies about going on for Arden, the possibility of joining the union had never occurred to her. This was an incredible opportunity. The jobs that would open up for her, the auditions she could get into! Most actors knocked around for years before they were able to vanquish the notorious catch-22 that was joining the actors’ union. You had to be cast in an Equity production in order to join the union, but you couldn’t audition for an Equity production unless you were already a union member. Isobel had apparently stumbled onto a top-secret loophole: taking over a union role as a non-union understudy.
“Yes, of course,” Isobel said. “That’s no problem. That’s—great!”
“Wonderful!” Jethro beamed at her.
Hugh tapped her shoulder. “Can I talk to you privately for a moment?”
Isobel whipped her head around, startled. “What?”
He guided her to her feet. “Can you give us a sec?”
Hugh led Isobel down the aisle toward the stage. When they were out of earshot, he spoke softly.
“I know this is exciting for you, but think about it first. Taking an Equity contract gets them out of a tight spot, but it isn’t necessarily the smartest career move for you.”
“How could it be bad?”
“First of all, there’s the initiation fee. It’s over a thousand dollars. Felicity will be paying you a higher salary on an Equity contract, but not that much higher. That’s a considerable expense.”
Isobel swallowed. “I can ask my parents for a loan.”
“But this is the main thing: you’ll be less employable once you join the union.”
Isobel opened her mouth, outraged, but Hugh steamrolled right over her, which was quite unlike him.
“This isn’t about talent. Think about how and why you’re here. Your role was designated non-union in advance. Most regional theaters—summer stock, too—have a limited number of union contracts. The last category they’re going to use them on is young women. There are simply too many of you to choose from. This show is your first solid regional credit. If you jump now and get your card, you’re skipping an important step. You have to build your resume.”
“But think of all the things I can get seen for! That Phantom of the Opera audition where I met you? I wouldn’t have to sit outside the Equity lounge all day on a folding chair hoping for a chance to sing sixteen bars for the casting director while he’s packing up for the day.”
“And the result would be the same. You’d still not get hired,” Hugh said. “As I told you that day, it was a required call. They weren’t really looking. Without an agent getting you appointments, those are the kinds of auditions you’ll be going to. And no agent is going to take you on with only one decent credit.”
Isobel’s temples throbbed. “I can’t believe you, of all people, would try to hold me back. You don’t think I can compete?”
“Darling, you know I think the world of you. I just want you to give this some thought. I know it sounds good—”
“Better than good. It’s the lead in a new musical the Donnelly Group is looking at, and besides”—a triumphant smile crossed her face—“I have to do it. I’m contracted as the understudy.”
“You can step in for three days in an emergency without having to join the union.”
“You mean, let them bring in someone else and go back to playing Emma?”
“Right.”
“But they want me.”
“Of course they do. It’s easier and cheaper for them to keep you in the role. They’d have to find someone else who could learn the show in three days, and that would cost them. I’m telling you, they need you more than you need your Equity card right now.”
She narrowed her eyes. “How do you know so much about Equity regulations?”
“I overheard Kelly and Heather discussing it.” He took Isobel’s hand. “My mum always says never make a big decision without sleeping on it first.”
“But—”
“Do that for me? Take the night. The offer will still be there in the morning. Run it past Delphi and Sunil. See what they think. For once, don’t rush in. Okay?”
His arguments, valid or not, felt like a betrayal. On the other hand, it was tempting to make Felicity sweat a little. And Isobel had never seen Hugh so insistent. She supposed sleeping on it couldn’t hurt, although she was pretty sure she knew what her answer would be.
“All right.”
He gave her a quick kiss and they rejoined the others, who were arguing heatedly about who should take over as Emma.
“I don’t care, just pick one,” Felicity said.
Ezra scrabbled at his beard. “I can’t pick any of them. Marissa is playing Sousa’s mother and Talia is his sister. They can’t show up in the next scene as his girlfriend.”
“Then grab someone from the ensemble,” Felicity said.
“Who?” Ezra asked. “Remember, we were trying to assemble a believable town? That’s why our ensemble looks like the first ten people we picked up at the DMV.”
Jethro’s voice broke through. “We’ll have to hire someone.”
Felicity shook her head impatiently. “Where are we going to find someone who is available and can learn the show overnight?”
“Delphi!” They all turned to look at Isobel. “My roommate from New York. She looks like a Botticelli, and she’s a phenomenal actress. She does a lot of Shakespeare, so she can memorize complicated text quickly, and this isn’t even complicated.” She darted a look at Jethro. “I mean, it isn’t Shakespeare. It’s only the scenes with Swallow and Sousa and then the maid in act two. I’m sure she could learn those lickety-split, and then you could work her into the ensemble scenes once she’s got those down.”
Hugh let out a nervous chuckle. “It’s a creative idea, but Delphi’s an alto, and from what you’ve told me not a very good one. What about the Emma/Sousa duet?”
His words chilled the air.
Ezra folded his arms. “I’ve made it clear what I think about the duet.”
“I’m not cutting ‘Song of the Sea,’” Jethro said through clenched teeth.
“It slows down the action,” Ezra said. “We don’t spend enough time with Emma to warrant a song.”
Jethro jutted out his chin defensively. “It’s an actual song that Sousa composed to lyrics Emma wrote. It demonstrates their love and helps us understand why he’s crushed when her stepfather blocks the marriage.”
“What if you gave the whole song to Sousa?” Isobel suggested. “She sends him the poem, and he returns it with a melody. It’s his musical love letter to her. It could be just one verse and it wouldn’t slow things down.” She glanced at Ezra. “As much.”
“That’s exactly why it has to be a duet,” Jethro insisted. “It starts as a love letter to her, and she joins in and that’s what makes us think they’re going to wind up together.”
“But they don’t wind up together,” Ezra said, bringing his fist down on the seatback in front of him.
“We’re leading the audience on,” Jethro said. “We’re creating an expectation and then bam—we’re disappointing them.”
“No, you’re boring them,” Ezra returned.
Jethro’s face darkened to a dangerous plum.
Felicity cut in. “How soon could your friend get here?”
“She is here,” Isobel said. “In the lobby. She came up to see the show.”
Felicity stood up. “That settles it. There’s no time to call down a list. We need an actor in place by tomorrow morning.”
“But my duet,” Jethro protested.
Felicity put a staying hand on Jethro’s arm. “We are all going to have to compromise, and if that means a change in the duet, so be it. Perhaps it will turn out to be temporary. But I’m convinced this is the best way. Ezra, I know you were planning to go back to the city tomorrow, but—”
“I’ll stay to put in Isobel and her friend.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s the stage manager’s job once the show is open and frozen.” Jethro glared at Ezra.
“Frozen? This isn’t Broadway, Jethro,” Ezra said. “We’ll adjust as needed to continue to improve your show and make it work. And if we’re putting in not one but two actors, I will stay in Albany and see to it myself.”
“There’s one other thing,” Isobel said. “I haven’t decided yet whether I want to join Equity. I might want to fill in for three days until you can find someone else.”
All eyes turned to Isobel.
“Why on earth would you want to do that?” Felicity asked icily.
“I don’t necessarily.” Isobel shifted her weight uncomfortably. “I want to sleep on it. That’s all.”
Felicity’s sculpted eyebrows shot up. “Chances to join the union don’t come along every day. Most actors in your position wouldn’t dream of passing this up.”
Isobel gave Hugh a look. “Yes, I know.”
“I expect your answer first thing tomorrow morning,” Felicity said. “Either way, we’d better go hire your friend.”