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an expression! From
down south. It means 'quit botherin’ me about stupid stuff.' And
that’s not ‘some man’. That’s Elvis!”
    “Who in tarnation is Elvis? Some crazy friend
of yours?”
    “Elvis is the best singer of the 20th
century.”
    Saree intervened before a full-scale war
erupted between the stagehand and me.
    “Stop it, you two. Briley, I believe Melody
when she says she’s not working for Clow. Now, the girl’s just been
through a very long audition and she looked kind of sick earlier.
She needs some food and some rest.”
    Briley nodded. “I agree with the food and
rest. That faint was no fake.”
    I wrinkled my nose at him in an admittedly
childish gesture. But he was being aggravating, suspicious, and
totally inhospitable. He and I stared at each like cats engaged in
a hissing battle. Again, Saree intervened. “Mel?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Where are you staying? Do you have a
room?”
    I went pale. “Actually, no. I thought I’d be
able to just wing it when I arrived. Dumb.”
    Briley was shaking his head. He looked as
though he was about to start cross-examining me again when Saree
took charge. “Perfect. I have a friend who just left for Atlantic
City for a job at the Savoy. Her room’s available. She told me
she’d love to have someone stay there while she’s gone so it’ll be
waiting for her when she gets back. She even left a lot of clothes
and she’s a doll - she wouldn’t mind if you borrowed some. She’s
not quite as tall as you – who is? But they’ll probably fit you
anyway. Briley?”
    “Yes,
Miss-Butting-Into-Other-People’s-Business?”
    She stuck her tongue out at him. “I have to
go. I have a date. Could you take Melody to Bettina Markams’s
place? Remember where? We picked Bette up there for The Count’s
last party.” She swept on without awaiting Briley’s response. “Mel.
See you tomorrow. Now go and get some sleep. Flo’s reputation for
very long rehearsals is true. I’m sure tomorrow’s will be a killer.
‘Specially since he’s adding you and that other girl in. Sorry I
can’t stay and help. Bye-dee-bye.”
    Saree took off in a flurry of waves and air
kisses. Briley and I were left alone in the wings. I took a deep
breath and faced him with a too-bright smile on my face.
    “So, where is this apartment?”
    “Near Washington Square Park.”
    “I live there! I mean, I’ve dreamed of living
there.”
    Briley was quick to respond to this comment.
“No. You said live there and you meant exactly that. Just when did
you arrive?”
    I smiled sweetly. “I told you. Today - not
long before I got backstage.”
    Briley scowled. “Why is it I have trouble
believing you? If you are in some kind of trouble, everyone in this
company will eventually be involved. Please tell me.”
    I stiffened. “I’m not in any kind of trouble.
Now, I’m ready to see this apartment. How do we get there?”
    For a moment I thought Briley would continue
to quiz me but he simply answered, “Subway train or streetcar.”
    “Streetcar? Neat.” I frowned. “Oh crap. I
mean, oh my. I just realized I have a serious problem. I don’t have
any money. How am I going to pay for the room? Think a landlord
would give me credit until my first paycheck from Mr.
Ziegfeld?”
    Briley’s left eyebrow lifted. “I must be
wrong. You can’t be a spy. No one is that inept. The day a landlord
takes credit in Manhattan is the day a rocket flies to the moon.
Since you’re now part of the Ziegfeld family, I’ll pay for the
room. Anyone with as many problems as you seem to have obviously
doesn’t need to be wandering the streets.”
    I looked up at him. He was suddenly being so
nice I almost told him rockets flying to the moon were no biggie
any more. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back, I promise.”
    “Don’t worry about it I’m not such a cad that
I would bother a lady for a few dollars of her hard-earned pay.
Consider this a gift.”
    I felt horrible. Briley didn’t like me and
now was