She went over to the window, but instead of climbing over the desk onto her perch, she sat on the edge of it, lit the cigarette, and held it at arm’s length out the window. She exhaled smoke into the room.

“What I’m about to tell you requires some delicacy, Scarlett,” she said. “I need to know I can trust you. Before I say any more, you have to promise me that what we talk about tonight will never leave this room. Your trust will be rewarded, I promise you.”

She looked at her just-lit cigarette, tossed it away, and shut the window. She slipped back to the bed. This was mysterious behavior, even for her.

“I promise,” Scarlett said.

She snapped the case open once or twice.

“I presume you heard a bit of the conversation I was having with Billy earlier. He mentioned a woman named Donna Spendler.”

Even saying the name seemed to cause her discomfort.

“There are some people who will do anything to get ahead,” she said, “no matter what the cost to other people. You find them in every walk of life. Donna Spendler falls into this category. What I’m about to propose may sound a little…unethical. But it’s really just a joke, and it’s nothing…nothing…compared to what she deserves.”

“What is it?” Scarlett asked, nervously.

“The fact that we’re doing Hamlet made me think of it,” she said, getting up and pacing the floor in front of the moon mirror. “Hamlet knows his uncle is guilty of murdering his father, but he can’t prove it. So when a group of traveling actors appears, he hires them to perform a play that will trigger his uncle, make him realize he’s caught, and force him to confess. Drawing from that idea, I want to stage a little play…”

“A play?”

“Tomorrow,” she said, “Donna goes up for the final audition for a very big Broadway role, which she may get. There is only one possible thing that could tempt her away from that room—and that’s the possibility of a television show. So tomorrow, at the crack of dawn, her agent will get a call telling her there is a casting emergency. An immediate opening for a female lead role in a new show.”

Scarlett remained silent, unsure what to make of what she was hearing.

“I know an out-of-work television writer who sent me some pages of a failed pilot called The Heart of the Angel,” she said. “It was originally set in LA, but a few tweaks of the lines will relocate it here, and it will be called The Heart of the Empire. Good title, huh? The main character is currently a man, but by tomorrow afternoon, it will be a woman. A woman of about Donna’s age. She becomes a cop after she turns forty to avenge her daughter’s murder. She saves kids. The actress who got the part has been horribly injured in a car accident, and someone else needs to step in, immediately. A big, golden opportunity…one that will take all of tomorrow afternoon. If she doesn’t take that bait, I’ll eat my yoga mat. Television trumps Broadway every time.”