Penny Takes the Stage

Chapter 1: Penny

Penny Patrick stepped off the bus on the corner of Central Park South and Fifth Avenue and stood for a moment, enjoying the weather. It wasn't even warmth, she decided, so much as it was a lack of cold that let her senses know that winter was over and spring was on its way. It was one of many, many things she loved about New York. Her boyfriend, Frederick, teased her about it all the time.

"It's fucking cold and miserable here most of the time," he said when they last talked about the weather. They'd been walking in Greenwich Village, all bundled up against the cold. "Except when it's like muggy, smelly, soup, or worse, gravy. It's one or the other for eleven months of the year. Then we get one month of nice weather, split up  into two weeks of spring and fall, and that's it. You're crazy to say New York weather is nicer than California's."

Penny had grown up in San Diego, but had gone to UCLA for college, then moved to New York City right after, and had never left. She loved New York with all her heart, everything about it.

Including the weather.

"It's easy for you to bad-mouth New York," she retorted as she nudged his shoulder with her own. "You grew up here, you can take all of New York's characteristics for granted, good and bad. I, on the other hand, have only had the pleasure of living here for four years, so could you just cut me some mother-fucking slack and let me enjoy it, please? All of it?"

Frederick had given her a sidelong glance, square features and stocky body matching his deep voice as he raised his eyebrow and spoke slowly, ponderously. "As long as you don't turn into one of those enthusiastic, rah-rah, I love New York weirdos who wants to go to Central Park and walk the Brooklyn Bridge and all that crap. Promise? None of that hearty, 'We must have lunch at Llama-san this month,' bullshit?" Somehow Frederick managed to inject sarcasm and condescension into every syllable as he mimicked a high-class, Upper East Side accent.

"Promise."

"Okay." And they kept walking, arm in arm, to the poetry reading in the small bookstore off of Washington Square Park.

The light changed and Penny was brought back to the corner of Fifth and Central Park South when a car honked at her. She looked around and smiled at the gorgeous edifice of the Plaza Hotel, where she loved to take her parents and younger sister, Hazel, for drinks or tea when they came to visit, without Frederick, of course.

Her phone pinged with a text from Frederick, and she pulled it out to look while she walked south on Fifth Avenue. She shoved her abundant, curly brown hair into the back of her scarf so it wouldn't blow around in her way as she read.

"I just got called into a meeting with Carey and Brent. Any idea what they want?"

Carey Stiller and Brent Chase were the producers of the new play that she and Frederick were starring in together.

"No idea," she texted back. What could they want with the star of their show, one week before read throughs were to begin? Then she, too, got a text to be at the same meeting, so she told Frederick she'd see him there and continued on her way to her mani-pedi-facial and hair appointment.

She arrived a few minutes early, which Charlene, her stylist, always appreciated.

"Okay, doll, so what are we doing today?" she asked, smiling. "Starting something new?"

"Well, yes, but we don't open until the fall, so this is just for me right now," Penny told her. "I'd like something I don't have to mess with for as long as possible, okay? I know there's not much you can do with this Jew-fro--"

"Hey, we don't use that term around here," Charlene admonished, narrowing her eyes at Penny in the mirror.

"You're one of the few people who knows my real last name is Plotnick," Penny laughed. "I'm not too worried about it, honestly, so relax, Miss Charlene.