Geoffrey was delighted by Hedwig. Oh, the German was a mark against her, to be sure (he had never been a fan of German theater, and now its associations with one Darren Nichols made the entire country rather disasteful to him) as was the outrageousness of her outfit (which was also pretty much Darren's fault, actually). And the mid-monologue commentary almost had him shouting out a hearty "thank you!" right there and then and ushering her right off the stage.

But beyond those little annoyances... well, she was really pretty good. Better than nearly every other person who'd come in, certainly. And charismatic. A little old to play the leads, and God knew if he took Titania from Ellen now without giving her Helena she would never speak to him again; but Hedwig, he determined, would be in his play. And she would have a good part, dammit.

"Thank you, Ms. Robinson." It wasn't the dismissive fuck-off-and-goodbye he'd been planning on doling out earlier. He sounded genuinely pleased. "That was very good. We'll let you know when the play is cast. Do you have any questions?" He hoped not. He liked her, but that didn't mean he wanted to actually deal with anything.