An amused smile softened May’s face. “I hope it’s not too much of a shock. It was a girl named Pam Mundy. She said she knew you from summer stock.”
“Pam!” Peggy cried excitedly. “I had no idea she was in New York. What fun! Is she going to call back?”
“She said she’d get in touch with you this evening. Is she an actress?”
“Not really,” Peggy said. “She’s more interested in the production end. She saw some of our shows up at Lake Kenabeek last summer, and often discussed the problems with Richard Wallace, our producer.”
“A lady producer!” Amy exclaimed in surprise. “I thought all producers were men.”
“Most of them are,” May said. “But there’s no law against a girl trying it.”
“Maybe she’s doing a show,” Amy cried suddenly, “and she’s got a part in it for you.”
Before Peggy could answer, the buzzer over their door let out a squawk. “Telephone!” Amy breathed, hurling herself at the door. “Who’s it for?” she yelled down the hall. Each floor of the Gramercy Arms was serviced by a single telephone shared by all the girls on the floor.
“For Peggy!” came the answer. “It’s a man!”
“Well, at least we know it isn’t Pam Mundy,” Peggy said, as she drew on her bathrobe.