"I can say that the dance numbers should knock them back in the aisles." She looked gratefully at Hannah as the secretary brought in her tea. "We're working on one this afternoon that should bring down the house. If it doesn't, I'll have to go back to waiting tables."
"I trust your judgment." Edwin reached over to pat her hand. "To my way of thinking, if an O'Hurley doesn't know when a dance number works, no one does." At her puzzled smile, he leaned back. "I knew your parents."
"You did?" Her face lighted with pleasure, the roll forgotten. "I don't remember either of them talking about it."
"A long time ago." He sent Reed a quick glance as if in explanation, and continued. "I was just getting started, hustling talent, hustling money. I met your parents right here in New York. I was on the down end right then, scrambling for pennies and backers. They let me sleep on a cot in their hotel room. I've never forgotten."
Maddy sent a meaningful glance around the office. "Well, you scrambled enough pennies, Mr. Valentine."
He laughed, urging more rolls on her. "I always wanted to pay them back, you know. Told them I would. That was a good twenty-five years ago. You and your sisters were still in booties. I do believe I helped your mother change your diaper."
She grinned at him. "It was very difficult to tell Chantel, Abby and me apart, even from that angle."
"You had a brother," he remembered. "A pistol."
"He still is."
"Sang like an angel. I told your father I'd sign him up once I got myself going. By the time I did and managed to find your family again, your brother was gone."
"To Pop's continued lamentations, Trace decided against a life on the road. Or at least he opted to follow a different road."
"You and your sisters had a group."
Maddy was never sure whether to wince or laugh at the memory. "The O'Hurley Triplets."
"I was going to offer you a contract," he said, and watched her eyes widen. "Absolutely. About that time, your sister Abby got married.''
A record contract? More, a contract with Valentine Records! Maddy thought back to those times and imagined the awe that would have accompanied such an announcement "Did Pop know?"
"We'd talked."
"Lord." She shook her head. "It must have killed him to see that slip through his fingers, but he never said a word. Chantel and I finished out the bookings after Abby married, then she went west and I went east. Poor Pop."
"I'd say you've given him plenty to be proud of."
"You're a nice man, Mr. Valentine. Is backing the play a kind of repayment for a night on a cot?"
"A repayment that's going to make my company a lot of money. I'd like to see your parents again, Maddy."
"I'll see what I can do." She rose then, knowing she was pushing her luck if she wanted to get back across town on time to rehearsals. "I didn't mean to take up your visit with your father, Reed."
"Don't apologize." As he stood he continued to watch her, as he had been for the entire visit. "It was enlightening."
She studied him then. He looked so right there, behind the desk, in front of the window, in an office with oil paintings and leather chairs. "We mentioned small worlds once before."
Her hair was dripping down her back. Ridiculous red glass triangles dangled from her ears, looking somehow valiant. The yellow bib overalls and the bright blue T-shirt seemed the only spots of color on a gloomy day. "Yes, we did."
"You'll take the plant, won't you?"
He glanced at it. It was pitiful. "I'll do what I can, but I can't promise a thing."
"Promises make me nervous, anyway. If you take them, you have to make them." She took a deep breath, knowing she should go but not quite able to break away. "Your office is just how I pictured. Organized elegance. It suits you. Thanks for the tea."
He wanted to touch her. It amazed him that he had to fight an urge to walk around the desk and put his hands on her. "Anytime."
"How about Friday?" she blurted out.
"Friday?"
"I'm free on Friday." Now that she'd
"I trust your judgment." Edwin reached over to pat her hand. "To my way of thinking, if an O'Hurley doesn't know when a dance number works, no one does." At her puzzled smile, he leaned back. "I knew your parents."
"You did?" Her face lighted with pleasure, the roll forgotten. "I don't remember either of them talking about it."
"A long time ago." He sent Reed a quick glance as if in explanation, and continued. "I was just getting started, hustling talent, hustling money. I met your parents right here in New York. I was on the down end right then, scrambling for pennies and backers. They let me sleep on a cot in their hotel room. I've never forgotten."
Maddy sent a meaningful glance around the office. "Well, you scrambled enough pennies, Mr. Valentine."
He laughed, urging more rolls on her. "I always wanted to pay them back, you know. Told them I would. That was a good twenty-five years ago. You and your sisters were still in booties. I do believe I helped your mother change your diaper."
She grinned at him. "It was very difficult to tell Chantel, Abby and me apart, even from that angle."
"You had a brother," he remembered. "A pistol."
"He still is."
"Sang like an angel. I told your father I'd sign him up once I got myself going. By the time I did and managed to find your family again, your brother was gone."
"To Pop's continued lamentations, Trace decided against a life on the road. Or at least he opted to follow a different road."
"You and your sisters had a group."
Maddy was never sure whether to wince or laugh at the memory. "The O'Hurley Triplets."
"I was going to offer you a contract," he said, and watched her eyes widen. "Absolutely. About that time, your sister Abby got married.''
A record contract? More, a contract with Valentine Records! Maddy thought back to those times and imagined the awe that would have accompanied such an announcement "Did Pop know?"
"We'd talked."
"Lord." She shook her head. "It must have killed him to see that slip through his fingers, but he never said a word. Chantel and I finished out the bookings after Abby married, then she went west and I went east. Poor Pop."
"I'd say you've given him plenty to be proud of."
"You're a nice man, Mr. Valentine. Is backing the play a kind of repayment for a night on a cot?"
"A repayment that's going to make my company a lot of money. I'd like to see your parents again, Maddy."
"I'll see what I can do." She rose then, knowing she was pushing her luck if she wanted to get back across town on time to rehearsals. "I didn't mean to take up your visit with your father, Reed."
"Don't apologize." As he stood he continued to watch her, as he had been for the entire visit. "It was enlightening."
She studied him then. He looked so right there, behind the desk, in front of the window, in an office with oil paintings and leather chairs. "We mentioned small worlds once before."
Her hair was dripping down her back. Ridiculous red glass triangles dangled from her ears, looking somehow valiant. The yellow bib overalls and the bright blue T-shirt seemed the only spots of color on a gloomy day. "Yes, we did."
"You'll take the plant, won't you?"
He glanced at it. It was pitiful. "I'll do what I can, but I can't promise a thing."
"Promises make me nervous, anyway. If you take them, you have to make them." She took a deep breath, knowing she should go but not quite able to break away. "Your office is just how I pictured. Organized elegance. It suits you. Thanks for the tea."
He wanted to touch her. It amazed him that he had to fight an urge to walk around the desk and put his hands on her. "Anytime."
"How about Friday?" she blurted out.
"Friday?"
"I'm free on Friday." Now that she'd
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