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Jack, the kindly old man who frequented the bar and tipped well, smiled warmly at me. Seeing him in an expensive white suit rather than his normal casual clothes was like seeing a dog drive a car.
“Nadia,” he said. “I was hoping it would be a good surprise rather than a bad one.”
I struggled to speak without choking. “You’re John Vandercant? The producer of the show?”
“In the wrinkled flesh.”
Another familiar face came walking up behind him. “Robbie!”
I ran forward and gave him a warm hug. “What are you doing here?”
Behind me, Andy muttered, “Another guy? This is getting crowded.”
Robbie jerked his head toward Jack. I still couldn’t think of him as anyone other than Jack. “He invited me to the show, remember? By the way, I learned he owns the bar we work at. So he’s technically our boss.”
Jack shrugged. “If I’m going to spend money on drinks every night, it makes financial sense to spend it at one of the establishments I own. That way I’m filling my own pockets!”
I thought back to all of my interactions with Jack. He’d given me a $100 tip that first night so I could go on the Tinder date with Braden—insisting that I skip out on my bar shift. He’d told Robbie that he should call in sick to come to tonight’s show. His insistence wasn’t just a bored customer enabling us—it was our boss indirectly giving us the night off.
“I talked about the show in front of you,” I realized. A sinking feeling grew in my stomach. “I gossiped about the cast with Robbie. Shit, Tatiana is your granddaughter! I complained about her while you were right there! You even asked me about the show!”
I felt mortified as I tried to recall all of the bad things I’d said about Tatiana. Worse, I’d complained about the lack of budget for the show, and talked about how poorly written it was. And all the while the show’s producer was chatting me up and picking my brain about it.
But Jack only held me by the shoulders. “Nadia, Nadia. Relax. You didn’t say anything I didn’t already know. Tatiana was not good enough for the lead role in the show. Or any show, for that matter.”
Braden stepped forward. “Then why did you buy the theater and commission the show for her?”
“Bro,” Ryan whispered. “Be cool.”
“It’s perfectly fine.” Jack slumped his shoulders and took a deep breath. “I do not have a strong relationship with my son. Tatiana’s father. Recently I have been trying to reconnect and make up for shortcomings in my parenting growing up, and giving his daughter—Tatiana—her own show to follow her dreams was part of that. It was only money to me, and I thought it would mean the world to her. Clearly, I was wrong. I did not realize the kind of pressure it was putting on the poor girl.”
“Poor girl?” Andy said, mouth twisting. “Tatiana tried to kill Nadia. She made our lives a living hell trying to track down the saboteur. Ryan got fired because of her.”
“You’re right,” Jack admitted. “She did all of that intentionally and maliciously. I just… I can’t help but blame myself.” He spread his hands. “I am sorry for all of this. I should have funded the show better. I should have given her an audition, but not the lead role outright. I should have given all of you a better chance. I tried to make up for lost time when Tatiana was injured. I didn’t want the show to go to waste, and I knew Nadia was trying her best…”
“I forgive you,” I said. “You were only trying to do something nice for your granddaughter. And personally, I think the show was a smashing success.”
Robbie grinned. “Did you hear the crowd? They loved you!” He looked around awkwardly. “Um, and the rest of you. All of you were great.”
“You gave us the funding when we needed it most,” Atkins cut in. “Better late than never.”
“It’s not good enough,” Jack declared. He looked around the group, meeting everyone’s eyes one by one. “I want to do more.”
And then he told us how.
Epilogue
Nadia
I hummed a show tune to myself while walking down the crowded New York street to the Vandercant Theater. It was a special night. One that was every bit as special as opening night two months before.
Tonight was the last show of The Proposition.
I got to the theater extra early so I could savor it privately. Everything felt more special when it was quiet before a show. Before the ushers had arrived to scan tickets, and before the concessions employees popped the popcorn in the old carnival machine up front. No drinks were sold yet, and no musical instruments were playing. The stage was still dark, the curtain closed and still.
I took long, deep breaths. Enjoying the musty smell. I would miss this place, even though I had bigger and better things to look forward to. Maybe because there were bigger and better things coming.
Backstage, Ryan was checking some of the electrical wiring connected to the fuse boxes. Vandercant had insisted on giving Ryan his job back, and the gruff redhead was happy to accept.
