The Western-themed restaurant was raucous but not deafening as The Hottest Comedy Team in Town finished a late dinner with their manager and his daughter. Louie and Kim lifted their glass Coke bottles high and tapped both Clark’s and Lois’ bottles. “Here’s to the best comedy team I ever managed,” laughed Louie.
Kim took a swallow and gave him a piercing look. “And how many comedy teams have you managed, Dad?”
“Just these two, but that don’t matter none. Youse guys is still the best ever.”
Lois playfully bumped Clark’s shoulder with hers. “Thanks, Louie. That means a lot to us. Hey, did you know Cat Grant was in the audience tonight?”
“Who?”
“No, Who’s on first!”
Clark grinned and shook his head. “Routine’s over, Lois. Louie, Cat is a reporter for the Planet. She was with the paper a while back, got laid off before we left, then came back to fill the hole Lois left.”
“Yeah? How’s she doin’ with that job?”
Clark grinned. “She’s still rattling around and bouncing off the walls, scrambling to be as much like Lois as she can be.”
“Hey!” Lois interjected. “She’s not all bad.”
“On, really?” asked Kim. “I thought she was in the market for Clark.”
“No, no, she’s just – well – a little intimidated. She went after Clark because – oh, let’s talk about something else, okay?”
Louie put his drink down and leaned forward. “Okay, I got somethin’. But I got a feelin’ youse ain’t gonna like it.”
Lois frowned back. “What’s wrong? Did the Styles Club in Gotham cancel?”
“Naw, nothin’ like that. It’s still on, twelve nights starting next Tuesday at eight. And I’m still workin’ on that ten-minute radio spot next month. Bookin’ dates here in Metropolis and in Gotham ain’t the problem. Unfortunately – the problem is the two of you.”
Clark leaned his forearms on the table and matched Lois’ frown. Louie thought about changing the subject he’d intended to bring up, but decided it needed to be discussed. “Look, you two, I hit some roadblocks in bookin’ you guys out o’ town. You need more exposure south and west, but I’m hearin’ back from venue management in them places that the material you’re doing and your target audience ain’t compatible with you two livin’ together like you are.”
“Okay,” drawled Clark, “so we fix it. Lois can get another apartment.”
“Naw, that ain’t what I meant. See, the folks I been tryin’ to book you with want real family stuff on stage, same stuff you been doin’, an’ they been frownin’ at me when they find out you two’s livin’ together and actin’ like you’re together but you ain’t married. I really think it would help me get you in a lotta new places if you was hitched.”
Louie had heard the word “nonplussed” before, but he’d never seen anyone who fit the definition until now. Both Clark and Lois sat still with their mouths open, not moving except for Clark, who was blinking almost spasmodically. Neither of them seemed to be breathing.
Kim reached over and tapped Lois’ shoulder. “Hey, Lois, honey, you okay? Don’t forget to inhale.”
Lois shook herself and took in a deep breath. “Yeah. Um – you, uh – this is—”
“What Lois is trying to say,” Clark broke in, “is that we haven’t talked about – um, marriage. Just so you two know, we have the same address but we don’t sleep together.”
Louie waved his hands and shook his head. “What you two do or don’t do when you’re alone ain’t none o’ my business. I’m just tellin’ ya, as befittin’ my title as your manager, what the deal is on these small-town places outside Metropolis and Gotham City. Youse guys could make some part-time type dough if you stayed in town, but making enough to live on?” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Ain’t gonna happen. You’re good, but there ain’t enough venues around here or enough demand for comics in general to pay your rent and buy groceries and such. Not to mention that as long as you keep doin’ these older routines, ya gotta pay for performance rights just like you was playing someone else’s music for money.”
Lois sat up straight. “So you’re saying that you can’t book us out of town unless we get married? How stupid is that?”
Louie leaned back in his chair and lifted his hands in a bigger shrug. “Hey, I ain’t criticizin’ nobody. I’m just tellin’ youse what they told me. Husband and wife comedy teams – yeah, they want ‘em. Livin’ t’gether, even if it’s like youse guys what don’t sleep in the same bed, they don’t want.” His gaze moved down until he found his dinner. “If I wasn’t the manager, I wouldn’t say nothin’. But I am – and I get twelve percent of your net. I wanna make some dough outta this gig, too.”
Lois narrowed his eyes at him. “We’ll talk it over and let you know what we decide, Louie. Anything else on your mind?”
None of them spoke for a long moment, then Kim asked about Lois’ fish. Clark rolled his eyes and began complaining about how skinny her goldfish were before they moved her aquarium and how hungry the little guys still were even after eating the piranha Lois had brought home. She slapped him on the upper arm again and laughed. Clark and Kim followed suit and the sharp mood was broken.
But Louie knew that it was only a matter of time before the subject came up again. He could only hope they could work out their marital status in favor of the job before they went broke.
*****
Clark unlocked the door and bumped into Lois as she tried to rush into the apartment. Neither of them looked at the other, and he could tell she was just as uncomfortable with the elephant in the room as he was.
Marriage? What was Louie thinking?
He’s thinking about his commission, Clark reminded himself. He’s looking out for us like a good manager should. And if he was giving them accurate information about their prospective bookings, he was right. They could get more gigs out of town as a married couple than as a couple just living together.
They needed to talk about it. And they needed to make a decision.
Still without looking at him, Lois asked, “Are you thirsty? I think there’s still some cream sodas in the fridge.”
“Sure. We can drink them while we talk.”
She stopped in the kitchen doorway and finally looked at him. “Clark, I – I’m sorry I put you in this predicament.”
He frowned and sat at the kitchen table. “How’d you do that?”
She walked into the kitchen, fetched two cold cans of cream soda, and sat down across from him. “When I barged into your apartment a couple of months ago and just assumed that I could stay here indefinitely.”
“I could have told you no. So don’t try to be a martyr about this.”
She lifted her eyes to his and tried to smile but failed. “Thank you for that. And I haven’t said it enough, but thank you for sticking with me. I don’t know any other man who would go this far for me.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say, “Lois, I’d go to the ends of the earth for you,” but he didn’t think that was what she wanted – or needed – to hear right now. Instead, he popped open his soda and took a big swig. “It’s not as big a deal as you’re making it out to be.”
“I think it is.” She looked at her drink and opened it. “You told me once, back when we first started working together at the paper, that you weren’t like other guys. I didn’t believe you then, not really, but I do now.” She gazed at him with dewy orbs. “I think you’d do almost anything for me.” She paused and took a sip, then set the can down and took his hands in hers. “So I’m not going to ask you to marry me, not for the sake of the story or the act or my reputation or the assignment. It’s too much. I can’t – I won’t do it.”
Looking into her eyes was almost hypnotic. He heard himself saying, “If we both agreed to get an annulment when the assignment’s over, I could see us going to City Hall tomorrow.”
She blinked several times. “What?”
“Lois, I’m willing to go through with—”
“No!”
“But we haven’t talked—”
Her hands snapped back as if they were connected to high-tension rubber bands. “No! I won’t let you do this! It’s not fair to you to ask – to either of us!”
“Lois, listen to—”
“No!”
“It would just be for show. I wouldn’t expect you to—”
“No!” She jumped up and almost ran across the living room. “You can’t – I won’t let you! It’s too much! I can’t let you!”
He spoke slowly and calmly. “You want to go back to reporting. I know you do. And you want to do it at the Daily Planet. Well, I want those things too. The only way to get them is to complete this assignment. We can’t do that if we can’t get out-of-town gigs. And we can’t get them if we aren’t married.” He leaned back and shrugged. “I really don’t think we have much choice.”
Her face paled and she reached across her torso to grab her other elbow. “I – I don’t know if I can handle being fake-married to you, Clark.”
So, he thought, there it is. I’m just her friend. A good friend, yes, but nothing more. If I told her that I loved her and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, she’d run away like a quarter horse, blow the assignment, and never work as a reporter again. I can’t do that to her.
He made his voice as matter-of-fact as he could. “Look, I’m not suggesting that we sleep together. We’ll keep the bed and couch thing going until the job’s finished and we can annul the marriage. Nothing will change about our private lives.” She didn’t respond, so he added, “Remember, you’re the one who called this the ultimate undercover assignment.”
She took a quick, sharp breath as if she were gasping. Then her arms dropped and she seemed to deflate. “All right, Clark. We’ll do it your way.”
“It’s actually Louie’s way. It was his idea.”
She nodded. “You’re right. We’ll do it Louie’s way.” She turned and took a step toward the bedroom, then stopped. “Can we take care of it right after lunch, after we pick up our stuff from Joe DeLucca’s club?”
Take care of it, she said. As if they were planning to get a boil lanced.
“Sure. We’ll take your Jeep, if that’s okay.”
Still not looking at him, she nodded. “No problem. It’s the least I can do.”
She went into the bedroom and closed the door. The click of the latch seemed to thud against his heart like a pile driver.
He should have been deliriously happy. He was marrying the woman of his dreams, the most beautiful and talented and driven woman he’d ever known. He should have felt like shouting his good fortune from the highest point of the city. He should have been anticipating the best day of a great life from now on.
Instead, they were getting married for the money they could earn. And for the sake of some stupid undercover assignment. And because she wanted to go back to the Daily Planet and this was the only route available. And because he was too scared to tell her how he really felt about her.
He felt like a heel. If this was love, the poets could keep it.
*****
Lois changed into her bedclothes on autopilot. She was getting married tomorrow.
She was marrying the man she’d literally been dreaming about for weeks. But not because they loved each other. It was because they wanted to get the story.
Because of the blasted story!
And the bed and couch thing? Didn’t he see how much that hurt her? Couldn’t he tell that she would have agreed to marry him with a smile if he’d pushed past her stupid, thin objections and told her that he loved her?
And the annulment.
That might have been the unkindest cut of all. The cavalier, offhand way he assumed that she’d only consent to marry him to get the story, the byline, the front page above the fold. He just stomped on her heart like it was a bug invading his home.
No, it was worse than that. Clark would capture an invading insect and release it outside. But her? He’d just throw her into the trash compactor and press the “flatten” button. And there was no C3P0 or R2D2 to save her.
She’d have to back off from the little touches and quick kisses they’d been exchanging for weeks. It wasn’t fair to him for her to keep teasing him when he really didn’t want her to. Nor did it do her heart or mind any good. That wall around her heart that she’d allowed him to breach would have to be rebuilt, stronger and wider and taller than ever before.
She didn’t look forward to her dreams tonight. She already knew they wouldn’t be good ones.
