Teaming With the Shrew
Copyright© 2025 by Argon
Chapter 5: Shakespearean
The next big event I attended was Brenda-Lee’s graduation. I was not alone going up there. Two of our writers were coming along, Jean joined us, and at the last minute, Jennifer decided she wanted to come too. Many more chipped in for her graduation present, a one-week stay in New York. Being outnumbered three to one, my plan to drive Isabella up to Eureka was nixed. It was sensible since Jean alone would max out the carrying capacity of my ancient vehicle. Instead, Jean offered his van, a fairly new Toyota. We all chipped in for gas of course and took turns at the wheel, but we still took over twelve hours including the potty breaks.
We were greeted by a beaming Brenda-Lee who showed us to the motel where we spent the night after having dinner at a typical student hangout. We were joined there by my old buddy Xasha. She was sporting a modest engagement ring, her only metal adornment in evidence, and she was accompanied by her huge farm boy fiancé, Eric The Viking, as Jennifer re-christened him immediately. I already knew that he was the younger brother of Xasha’s bosom-buddy Dolores, a former fellow performer under the name Dolly Dickinson, and she’d met him at Dolores’s wedding. He and Jean were evenly matched in size, but Eric was of course less ugly.
The ceremony started at ten the next morning. It was sweet to watch Brenda in her cap and gown masquerade as she accepted her diploma and a handshake from the dean. By twelve, all the diplomas had been handed out, all the speeches given, and we could finally whisk Brenda away to a restaurant where we had booked a side room for the celebration.
It was a merry afternoon for all of us. There were no parents to celebrate with her, but she did not lack companionship. She received our gifts with a beaming smile and hugged us all, but we had one more thing, a big envelope from Sharon, and Jennifer handed it over. It contained a contract, making her a writer on the staff of the show, and it only required Brenda’s signature to become binding. The second document gave notice of termination of Sharon’s lease of Brenda’s apartment, allowing Brenda to use it when she joined the staff.
Another round of hugs ensued, but then Brenda borrowed a ball-pen and countersigned both documents.
Two days later, two tabloids showed pictures of me hugging Brenda. I mean, we all hugged her, but the sleazy writers insinuated that I had bagged her (their quote), and the caption under the pictures was taken from the old song My Darling Clementine. It went, ‘How he missed her, how he missed her, how he missed his Caroline, but he kissed her little sister and forgot his Caroline’, Caroline of course standing for Carlotta. Brenda was severely pissed off. She went out with other men to refute the rumors, but nobody noticed, since it was I who was on the sleaze bags’ radar. It was a major drag for us. We were friends after all, but we decided to refrain from hugs when hanging out together. I did not want to taint her reputation.
By early July, we had all our ducks in a row for the next season. We had lost one writer and one of the assistant directors during the contract limbo, but with Brenda on board full-time, our creative team was still well staffed. We had the first commitments from guest stars for one- or two-episode deals, and the writers were circulating draft plots for the planned 22 episodes, integrating those guest appearances.
With Myerson gone, Sharon was now the undisputed boss. My own role as assistant producer was fleshed out considerably due to this, and I was much busier than before, mostly settling the details of guest appearances, but also completing the staff. The assistant director I replaced with my buddy Jean, who also wanted to retire from shooting smut and was at loose ends. He was a hard sell to the studio brass, but his work on the biopic about Charlie had resulted in best director awards at two minor awards ceremonies that focussed on cable and online productions, making him barely palatable. We would use various directors provided by the studio for the episodes, and Jean would be the constant, assigned solely to UI. I also counted on him to fill in as director in a pinch.
There were also talks to give me star billing for the next season. I declined, not wanting to steal Jennifer’s thunder, but then I learned that it was Jennifer’s idea. We haggled a bit, and I persuaded her to wait for one more season before we made that move.
By mid-July, Jennifer left for Montreal for her Shakespeare theatre production, leaving me with Sharon to continue the planning. She would play the Shrew for four weeks starting August 1st and then be succeeded by her understudy. This would see her back in Burbank in time for the season start. A few of us planned to attend the premiere of the play and we had procured tickets in advance and without Jennifer’s knowledge. It would be a surprise.
For the time being, with Sharon on a brief trip to the UK to negotiate with one of their private channels, I was left in charge of things and kept busy enough. We had been able to pull in enough guest stars to last the season, but to coordinate the shoots between fifteen individuals was not the easiest task. The range of our guests stars was vast, from bona fide B-list movie actors to one of the leading ladies of 1980s porn, long in retirement but not yet in the tooth.
Still, come July 30, I had cleared my desk of all urgent matters, and at the ungodly time of 08:25, I started on a three-leg trip to Montreal, with stops in Dallas and Charlotte. It took me all day, and I arrived at half past ten. I was alone, too, since Brenda had begged out, Jean finally got a few of his crooked teeth replaced with implants, and Sharon was not back from Europe yet. That left me with four tickets, three of which I planned to scalp.
At least I was not responsible for the rooms the others had booked. I arrived at my hotel near the Vieux Port a little after one o’clock and went to sleep right away. Quebec province is three hours ahead of the West Coast, and it would be hard enough to wake up in the next morning.
I had a French style breakfast with café au lait, croissants and confiture at the hotel before I embarked on a city tour by bus. I saw a lot of historical places, but also a lot of today’s Montreal. It is a neat city. In the afternoon I took a boat tour on the St. Lawrence River, enjoying the fresh air on the water but also the sights along the river front. It was a fun day all around. Just after I’d come off the boat and found a nice cafe, my cell phone went off. Looking at the screen, I saw it was Jennifer calling.
“Hey, you!” I greeted her. “How are the rehearsals going?”
“We had dress rehearsal today, and it went just great. How do you like Montreal?”
Busted!
“You knew?”
“Sure. Sharon sent me an email with a few ideas and told me to discuss them with you. I don’t think she even realized that she’d blow your surprise,” Jennifer laughed. “Where are you?”
“Aloha Espresso Bar, off Rue de la Commune, just across from the Science Museum. I took a harbor cruise.”
“How very touristy! Have you anything planned for tonight?”
“Nope. I’m flying by the seat of my pants. My only plan is to be at the theatre tomorrow.”
“Would you like to join us at dinner? We’ll be meeting at the Razgulyaevo. It’s on Boul’ Décarie. It’s a Russian restaurant. You’ll like it.”
“Sounds good. You sure I’m welcome?”
I could hear her snort. “Absolutely! You have fans here!” She giggled. “Seven-thirty?”
“Love to! Can you spell that name for me?”
She did and admonished me to be on time before she ended the call with a bright laugh. I still had plenty of time, so I finished my cappuccino in peace, watching the comings and goings outside, before I strolled back to my hotel. I was pleasantly tired from all the unaccustomed walking I had done all day, but a brief soaking in the bathtub alleviated that. A little after seven, dressed casually, I hailed a cab and had myself driven to the restaurant.
It was a rather large place, and Jennifer’s theatre company had booked a large table in advance. It took up about half of the room and easily seated over twenty-five people. I was a few minutes early, but Jenn was already there and greeted me with an emotional hug.
“Oh, Ricky! That is so nice of you to come here for our premiere!”
I hugged her back and suddenly I found out that I liked to have Jenn in my arms, and I gave her a little extra squeeze.
“You look smashing, love!” I teased her British. “The others send their regards. Brenda has a date, Sharon’s not back yet, and Jean is getting his teeth done to look human.”
She obviously was not willing to let go of me and rather pulled me to the table where her colleagues were watching us already.
“Guys, this is Ricky. Be nice to him. He’s one of my producers, and he picks the co-stars for the next season,” she told them, and I had to left-shake a number of hands as Jenn introduced me around. My right arm was around Jenn’s middle on a semi-permanent assignment as she steered me to our seats. I had to let go of her then, but as soon as we sat, she took hold of my left hand and pressed it.
“This is so great!” She gushed exuberantly. Then she sobered somewhat. “You’re not bummed or anything? You know, with Brenda having a date?”
I understood what she meant. I had been around Brenda a lot in the last two years.
“Well, I didn’t get to vet the young man, which steams me a little. But apart from that, no. Brenda’s sort of my honorary kid sister. She’s also a nice girl, and nice girls don’t date shady characters like me.”
“She didn’t say that, did she?” Jenn gasped.
“No, she’s a sweet kid, but I have to look out for her. Kid sister, you know?”
“Well, from what she told me, you’re a sweet guy, too. A great colleague, too, and a great friend!” My hand got squeezed extra hard.
“Hey, we’re a great team, and you had my back when Monahan sprang his offer. You’re one hell of a friend, too.”
More cast members arrived, and with a final press of my hand, Jenn greeted them and introduced me. I got looks from curious to amused, but no static at all. Soon, the proprietor of the restaurant appeared at our table to take our orders. I ordered blini rolls filled with chopped, boiled egg and onions and pierogi with sauerkraut filling. Jenn took pierogi, but with a minced meat filling, and shashlik — shish kebab — as main course.
While we waited for our orders, talk flowed around the table. I tried to remain unobtrusive, but that did not work. There were a few UI fans among the cast and support, and they would not let the opportunity pass to ask questions and voice their appreciation of my acting. Really. I am not kidding.
The other type of attention came from two young women and one guy who were obviously aiming at bedding me. At least that is what I thought. Turns out, the guy wanted tips how to satisfy his girlfriend. I told him I had no clue since porn shoots for the most part don’t end with the female performers having an orgasm, not even the lesbian shoots. One of the girls just wanted to know whether I could bring her in contact with another popular male performer — I didn’t know the guy personally — and only girl #2 was out to bag me. I told her I was involved with somebody.
Jenn then whispered in my ear. “And with whom are you involved if I may ask?”
“I’m still in the wooing period, but she’s worth a little patience,” I whispered back with a wink, and I swear Jenn blushed while her eyes turned smoky.
“Good answer,” she nodded, fixating me with her grey eyes. Next, I had a shock because Jenn squeezed the tool of my former trade none-too-gently. “Hmm! Feels great!”
“Cir ... circumspection is not really your forte, is it?”
“It’s not something I’m famous for,” she admitted with a smug grin.
“Thought so. I’d squeeze your boobs, but I didn’t bring a tweezer.”
That was a stupid thing to say to a woman who had a hold on my family jewels, but I managed to keep my face in check when Jenn squeezed hard.
“You’re lucky that I have plans for those!”
I understood what she meant and bit back a smart ass answer.
“Just don’t expect anything extraordinary. In private I’m more of a cuddler.”
“Can you be a nibbler, too?”
“I’ve been known to enjoy that.”
“Then we’re fine. Now eat up your veggies! You’ll need your strength.”
I managed a shrug. “I’ve saved up for almost a year.”
“For real?”
“Didn’t feel much like it. Little Ricky could use the break, too.”
Around us, the sound of thirty people talking to each other drowned out our whispered conversation, but people noticed the way we were sitting face to face. I guess we were obvious. The guy who played Petruchio in the play grinned at me.
“Please, take off her edge! She’s been killing me in the rehearsals.”
“Not much of a Petruchio you are,” I shot back. “Looks like the Shrew has been taming you!”
People around us giggled, and the poor Guy — his name really was Guy and I’m not kidding — blushed.
“It’s that bloke, Hugh. She practiced on him, and now she’s worse than ever.”
“Live by the word, die by the word,” Jenn threw in, unabashed. She looked at her understudy, a young woman by the name of Frances Collins. “You and I will practice together. Let’s keep him under our thumbs!”
Frances just grinned and gave Jenn a thumbs-up, but Guy Featherstone groaned audibly. I could not resist, but I gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I shall give it my best efforts.”
“You’ll be lucky to survive the night,” Jenn shot back.
“Promises, promises!” I taunted her. “Well, I better behave now. In eight weeks, it’ll be me on the sharp end of her tongue.”
Jenn laughed brightly. “Too late!”
Once we had left the eatery and were sitting in a taxicab, Jenn’s attitude changed markedly.
“Are you okay with this, Rick?”
“Only if we make sure our friendship stays intact. I value you too much as a friend to ruin it with a one night stand.”
“I ... I wasn’t planning on a one-nighter.”
“So, a trial run for something more, huh?”
She nodded. “Would you consider that?”
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