Reign

Sid nodded. 'All right then. I think you're imagining things. But I can understand why. And I think it'll pass. You may never see this. .. this guy again.”

“He wasn't a guy, Sid. He was the Emperor.'

'Aw, Dennis -'

'Aw, hell! So what do you think I ought to do, Sid? See a shrink?”

“I don't think it would hurt.'

'I've been that route, and that was as much bullshit as your psychic projections. I saw this thing. I saw it right there in front of me.'

'But you didn't touch it.'

'I couldn't! It wasn't… solid.'

'It wasn't real then.'

'Christ, Sid, you can't touch love or hate, but that doesn't mean they're not real, does it?'

Sid sat looking down into his drink as though there were an answer there. 'No. I guess it doesn't.' He looked up and sighed. 'Dennis, maybe it is real, I don't know. But whatever it is, it'll go away if you want it to. It'll go away in time.'

But do I want it to? Dennis was surprised at the thought. The gravity of it made him calm again. 'All right. All right, I'm sorry I lost my temper. Look, you go back to Donna, huh? I'll be okay. I just had to talk about it to someone. Maybe you're right, maybe it's just. .. things. It's been hard.'

'I know. You know how I felt about Robin.'

Dennis nodded and showed Sid to the door, where he gave him a hug, smiled, and said goodnight.

Alone, Dennis walked back into the bedroom, took off his robe, and got into bed. It seemed terribly large, terribly empty, and he wondered about what Sid had said. He didn't want to believe it, but maybe his friend was right. Maybe, he thought as he lay in the darkness, it was a projection, all in his mind, a phantom born of the guilt he felt about Robin's death. True, he had done nothing specific to cause it, but he couldn't stop thinking that if he had loved her more, paid more attention to her and her concerns and her not altogether unfounded jealousy, she would still be alive.

And as drowsiness overtook him, he thought again that he should have loved her more. If there was a next time, he would love completely and unselfishly. No next time with Robin, no, it was too late now, but with someone else…

With Ann…

'Ann…” On the edge of sleep he breathed her name, and knew, in an instant of realization that shocked him into full wakefulness, that someone else was there to hear that softest whisper.

He sat up in the darkness, listening for a breath not his own, listening, but hearing nothing. He put his head back on the pillow, and in a few minutes was asleep.

~* ~

(The scene is the living room. THE EMPEROR stands by his portrait, smiling, his head cocked as if listening to the deep breathing of DENNIS coming from the bedroom. He crosses to the bar, grasps the bottle of cognac with his right hand, a glass with his left, and pours. There is an audible sound as he replaces the bottle. Then he raises the glass to his lips and drinks from it. The cognac disappears. And, in another moment, so does THE EMPEROR.)

Scene 2

It had been, Ann Deems thought, a hell of a day so far. She was now on the phone for a third time with a representative of Actors' Equity, discussing accommodation arrangements that had already been settled, or at least so she thought. Apparently the Equity rep didn't.

'According to the producers' agreement, to which you people are a signatory,' the man droned on, 'there are to be toilet facilities in every room.'

'But we got a concession for that,' Ann repeated, 'as long as the performers agree. There are sinks, but no showers or toilets. Those are in common bathrooms that serve every six rooms.'

'I have no record of that concession.'

'Well, I've got a copy right here. I can read it to you if you like.'

'Read it or not, I've got to have it on paper. Hearing it over the phone doesn't do a thing.'

'But you were sent two copies.'

'Well, they're not here.'

'Well then you must have lost them. Now the best I can do is to fax you copies.”

“Oh, we don't need them that quickly.'

Jesus, Ann thought. Then what was all this goddamned fuss about? Just as she was about to lose her temper and unleash an anti-bureaucratic tirade upon this clown who was frittering away her morning, Dennis Hamilton walked in.

She had not seen him since the funeral, when he had said nothing to her, only nodded and looked away. She had expected no more. He had gone off to Florida immediately afterward, and, although she had heard John Steinberg tell Donna that he had returned the previous night, had not expected to see him so quickly.

She had also not expected to see him looking as apparently robust as he did. The weeks in Florida seemed to have done him good. His face was tanned, and he appeared to have gained some weight. He was smiling, although the longer she studied him the more she felt that there was something cautious about him. No, she thought. Cautious wasn't the word. Haunted. And hunted.

'Look,' she said into the phone, paying no attention to the officious jabbering on the other end, 'I'll send you those copies and we can go from there. Goodbye.' She hung up without waiting for a response.

'Don't tell me,' Dennis said. 'Equity.'

She nodded. 'Even the arts have their share of bureaucracy.'

'It'll all get sorted out in the end.' His face sobered. 'I wanted to thank you,' he said.

She looked at him, puzzled.

'For trying to… save Robin,' he explained. 'It was very dangerous. You were very brave. You could have fallen yourself.'

'I just… tried to reach her, that's all. I'm only sorry I couldn't.'

'Well, I just want you to know that I appreciated the attempt.' Dennis sighed and sat down in the metal folding chair next to Ann's desk. 'I know there's been a terrible amount of tragedy here. And I know that it must have some effect on everyone. Now I don't know if you've had any thoughts about leaving – because of everything that's happened, I mean…”

She felt chilled. What was he saying? Was he about to let her go? Ask her to leave?

'… but I hope you won't.' The words were like a caress. 'I need you here, Ann. More than ever now, I need everyone here. It's going to be harder than ever without Robin. She did so much – for me and for the project. She'll be difficult to replace.' He looked up guiltily. 'She worked so hard on the project.'

'I know,' Ann said. 'I know what you mean.'

He smiled again. 'You're a bright spot around here, Ann. And if there's anything we need right now, it's bright spots. Will you stay?'

'Sure.' She wondered if she should say the words, then cast discretion away and did. 'You'll have a tough time getting rid of me.'

She thought he read into them what she wanted him to. He looked at her for a long time, then nodded. 'I hope so.'

~* ~

Another three weeks went by before Dennis came into her office again. During that time they only talked on the phone or said hello to each other as they passed in the hall. The time was filled with work, and everyone from Dennis to Abe Kipp immersed themselves in it, working hard and keeping late hours, as if the business would keep tragic memories and thoughts at bay. Dennis and John Steinberg spent one of those weeks in New York, auditioning performers for Craddock, and on the first day he returned, he came into Ann's office just before lunch time. They chatted for a while about the auditions, he told her that they had cast the entire show except for the male lead, Frank Craddock, and then walked over to her window and looked out of it.

'Ann, I don't want this to sound unfeeling or insensitive,' he said slowly, as if feeling his way, 'but I think you know how I feel about you. You know that it was only because of Robin that I didn't say more than I did.' He sighed