“Don’t worry about it,” Peter counseled. “Oscar Stalkey can handle her pretty well. He doesn’t let her get away with too much.”
“What was that fight about in the office the other day?” Peggy asked. “Or shouldn’t I ask?”
Peter shrugged carelessly. “No big secret. She’d just finished explaining to Stalkey that she should play the lead in the Broadway production and not out in the sticks, as she put it.”
“Mr. Stalkey put her in her place soon enough,” Pam added with evident satisfaction.
“And that’s why she was screaming,” Peter added. “She’s got to have her own way or she throws a temper tantrum. Just like a child. I sometimes wonder what ails that woman.”
Pam looked at him sharply. “Don’t be dumb, Peter. She simply can’t face the fact that she’s not the romantic star she used to be.”
“Well, I wish she’d act her age,” Peter said moodily. “It’d be a lot easier all around. Let’s change the subject. Any more questions, Peggy?”
“One or two. Who’s the rest of the cast?”
“Let’s see now. The grandmother—a wonderful part—is Emily Burckhardt. The daughter is Marcy Hubbard. Do you know Marcy? She’s about your age, I guess. A little older.”
Peggy shook her head. “No, but I’ve heard of her.”