Reign

me come back to read and sing for Ensley and Davis. You know who they are?'

'Sure.' Ann's parents had taken her to New York to see All For the Best when she was in ninth grade, and she had seen the film versions of Wandering Wind and Calahan's Folly and owned both soundtrack albums. 'So you really sang for them?'

Dennis nodded. 'Danced too, though they didn't think much of my dancing.'

'But you got the part.'

'Mmm-hmm.'

There was a pause while the waiter removed the soiled dishes. Then Ann asked, 'So what do you do? Serve drinks again?'

He gave a short, uneasy laugh, and for a moment she was afraid that he had no lines at all, but was just a singer in the chorus. 'No, no drinks. I get to do a little more this time.'

'Oh, well, that's good. Who do you play?'

'The Emperor.'

It took a few seconds for her to realize that he was being serious. 'You have the lead?' He looked down and nodded. 'My God, that must be… exciting.”

“Try scary.'

“Why?”

'Because the people who aren't counting on me to sell their million dollar show are hoping that I'll screw up.' He shook his head in frustration. 'It usually takes years to get somewhere in this business, and that's what I expected to happen too. I thought my voice would get me through a few years of chorus jobs while I took enough dance so that I didn't stumble around on stage too much, then a few speaking roles, maybe the hero's comic relief friend, and then, if the gods smiled, actual leads by the time I was in my thirties or forties.'

Ann was beginning to see. 'But it happened a lot faster.'

'Did it ever. This is a part every young performer in New York wanted, and I -literally – just stepped right into it.' He sighed. 'As a result, an awful lot of people don't like me very much.'

He sat there quietly for a long time until the waiter brought them coffee and asked if they wanted dessert. They didn't, and the waiter left. 'It's a drag,' he said finally. 'I don't feel as though I'm really into the part. I mean I read fine during the auditions, and I was okay during the first week in New York. But everyone got so… bitchy. They treat me like this incredibly lucky jerk. Hell, I don't feel like an emperor at all.'

Ann thought for a bit, took a sip of coffee, then spoke. 'Maybe you shouldn't try and feel like the emperor. Maybe… maybe you should just be the emperor.'

(At a window high up in the building, THE EMPEROR stands, looking out onto the parking lot from which Ann Deems is driving away.)

THE EMPEROR

I want her. And I will have her. I'll have her crying, screaming, kneeling to me. Kneeling to her emperor. I'll have her bleeding.

Scene 7

'Looking back,' said Dennis Hamilton to Ann Deems as they sat at the same table as they had on their first date, 'I think I owe it all to you.'

'Owe what?' she asked. She was wearing a teal sweater dress with a long, rust-colored wool challis scarf. The diamond studs in her ears sparkled in the candlelight. Her face, Dennis thought, looked untouched by the years, as smooth as a child's in the gentle, golden glow.

'I owe you my career,' he answered, smiling at her quizzical look. 'Don't you remember the first time we ate here? I was bitching about how I didn't get any respect, how everyone was hoping to see me wind up flat on my face, and you told me not to try and feel like the Emperor, but to be the Emperor. And after I dropped you off I went back to my room and I thought damn it, she's right. I didn't have to feel like royalty as long as I could act like it. And I knew I could do that, and from that day on, at the rehearsals, I did.'

Now Ann was smiling too. 'I do remember.'

Dennis looked down into his wine glass. 'God, I was scared, though. But I figured I had nothing to lose.'

'And that was when you told the stage manager to get you coffee.'

A look of astonishment came over his face. 'I told you about Pritchard?'

'You told me everything then. And I remember I was so proud of you. It's silly now, but it was a turning point for you in that show.'

Dennis shook his head, remembering how Caton Tully, the director, expected Ralph Pritchard to get coffee from the machine in the lobby for him and several of the more highly paid actors at every break. Dennis had not been among the select few. The morning of the day after he and Ann had their first dinner together, Dennis had made his move.

~* ~

When Pritchard started back to the lobby to get Tully's coffee, Dennis called after him, 'I'll have some too, Ralph. Black,' and turned away before Pritchard could respond. When Pritchard returned, he handed the cardboard cups around, then finally gave the last one to Dennis. Dennis opened it and saw the light brown of a double cream. Although he didn't taste it, he felt certain that Pritchard had dumped a double sugar into it as well.

'Ralph,' he said in a flat, cold tone. 'I asked for black.'

'Oh yeah?' Ralph shrugged. 'You want something done right, do it yourself.'

'You scheiskopf! ' And suddenly Dennis Hamilton was gone, and the Emperor stood there in his place, an Emperor who had been pushed past all endurance and would brook no more. 'It was your mistake.' Dennis thrust the cup into the man's chest, so that the light, sticky brew splashed Pritchard's shirt, and husked out one word – 'Black.' The theatre grew deadly quiet, and no one moved for a long time.

~* ~

'I never,' Dennis said to Ann, 'never would have done that if you hadn't suggested it. And even then it was hard. I mean, Jesus, what a smartass punk, they must have thought.'

'But he brought you a black coffee, didn't he?'

'Yes he did. I guess it helped that he was such a screwup to begin with. I don't know, maybe he thought I could actually get him replaced or something. After all, I was the star, whether I realized it or not.'

'And you finally began to act like it.'

'That's right. And I've been acting that way ever since. So following your advice not only made my reputation,' said Dennis with a wry smile, 'it ruined it as well. From enfant terrible to aging tyrant.'

'Oh, the gratitude you must feel toward me. But you're not aging, you're forty-three, the same as…” She hesitated.

'The same as you. I know. No secrets here. But the years have been far kinder to you, Ann, than to me.'

'How can you say that? You look wonderful.'

'There are silver threads among the red, and, though you can't see it, I'm beginning to cultivate a paunch. The weight's remained the same, it's just been… redistributed.' They laughed together, stopping only when the waiter refilled their wine glasses.

'So,' Dennis said, 'did you ask your daughter whether she'd be interested in working for us too?'

'No,' Ann replied, and Dennis thought he saw a cloud pass over her face. 'She wasn't home when I got there. Probably out with friends. I'll talk with her…” She paused, as if contemplating what the evening would hold. “… tonight, when I get home.'

Dennis nodded. The mention of Ann's daughter had unexpectedly introduced the spectre of all the years that had passed since the nights they had last sat here, at first holding hands, later kissing with light, gentle kisses when the waiters' and other diners' attentions were elsewhere.

They did not hold hands now, though Dennis wanted to. From the moment he had seen Aim that day, he