Unsympathetic Magic - Laura Resnick [30]
“Four.”
I said to Max, “It was a musical version of Idi Amin’s life.” Then to Jeff: “How did that go?”
“It died on the road.”
“Go figure.”
“But that was a long time ago. How about you? How’ve you been?” His gaze moved over me and his expression froze in an awkward smile. “This is . . . a new look for you.”
“It’s a costume,” I said wearily. “I was working last night, and I haven’t been able to get my own clothes back or go home yet. Long story.” I gestured to his bald head. “This is a new look for you, too.”
He ran a hand over his shiny bald pate. “What do you think?”
Rather than answer that, since I saw no reason to mar this unexpected reunion with an honest opinion, I asked, “Is it for summer? Or a job?”
“A job. They wanted a certain look. I’m playing an athlete.” He flexed his shoulders. “I’ve been working out for it, too.”
“You look fit.” And that was true. Jeff was slim and long-limbed, not bulky or muscular. He wore a tank top and shorts in this heat, so it was easy to see that he was well-toned, his skin stretched smoothly over taut muscles and glowing with good health. “What’s the job?”
Jeff didn’t answer. Examining my outfit, which was looking the worse for wear by now, he asked, “So where were you working last night?”
“On location here in Harlem. A nighttime shoot for The Dirty Thirty.”
“Whoa!” His eyes widened. “I love that show.”
“Thank you,” I said with feeling. “Er, I mean, I’m glad to hear that.”
“The Dirty Thirty, huh? Well. Hmm.” He smiled again. “Hey, good for you!” His gaze moved to Max and he introduced himself. “Hi. I’m Jeffrey Clark.”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” I said belatedly. “Jeff, this is Dr. Maximillian Zadok, who’s a good friend of mine. Max, Jeff is an actor and . . . an old friend.”
Actually, Jeff was a former boyfriend. But that’s a phrase which implies old complications, and it seemed like too much information in the current circumstances.
“I’m delighted to meet you,” Max said, shaking Jeff’s hand. “Were you on your way into this establishment?”
“Yeah. I work here.”
“Oh, of course!” I slapped my forehead, then looked at Max. “That’s why it sounded familiar to me.” I said to Jeff, “Now I remember! You used to teach workshops here.”
“I still teach workshops here,” he said.
“The Livingston Foundation.” I nodded. “I knew I recognized the name from somewhere.” I had never been here, but I now recalled that, staying true to the Harlem roots he had always wanted to have (in fact, he came from a middle-class suburb of Columbus, Ohio), Jeff took pride in teaching acting workshops to young people at the Livingston Foundation.
“Since you’re employed here, then perhaps you knew Darius Phelps?” Max asked, leaping right into the breach.
“Darius?” Jeff shrugged. “Sure. He worked here.” He looked at me. “Is that why you’re here? You knew Darius?”
“Not exactly,” I said.
“We have some questions about him,” Max said. “Perhaps you can help us?”
“I didn’t know him that well, but, sure, I can try.”
“First of all—”
“Not right now, though.” Jeff glanced at his wrist-watch. “I’ve got a meeting, and . . . and . . .” His gaze was fixed on me, and he started smiling. “Oh, man. This is lucky.”
“What?” I said.
Then his smile faded and he looked uncertain. “Actually, maybe you won’t . . .”
“What?” I prodded.
“Do you want some work?”
He was speaking my language. I asked, “What kind of work?”
“I know you’ve got this D-Thirty gig and all, and this wouldn’t pay much compared to that. But it also doesn’t take up that much time, and it’s a way to—you know—give something back,” he said in a rush. “Plus, you’d really be helping me out.”
“What kind of work?” I repeated.
“You’d take over some of the workshops I’m teaching here. This job I got—the athlete role—has some scheduling conflicts with my work here. I thought I had it covered, but I got an angry call from the boss this morning. The guy who was substituting for me here turned out to be a flake and hasn’t shown up for a couple of days. I’m on my way into the boss’ office to do a mea culpa and promise to clean up my mess.” He let out his breath.