Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 129113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
She walked to his dressing room and knocked on the door. “It’s Alice.”
“Come in.”
She took in the surroundings. Even if she’d visited the room countless times, it always felt different with each celebrity. Performance outfits hung on a portable clothes rail pushed against the wall. The brightly lit interior smelled of clean linen and soap. Ivan sat in front of the vanity counter, applying stage makeup.
“Hey.” She offered him a smile while her insides ripped apart. It felt as if she was putting up an act just so the show that was life could go on. “Ready?”
“Almost.” He turned to her. “How do I look?”
The uncertainty in his tone was touching. He wore a black tux and a bowtie with a crisp white shirt. He’d traced his eyes with kohl, which made the difference between the brown and blue stand out even more than usual, and his hair was gelled back, but other than that he looked the same as every day.
She motioned at the attire. “That makes for a change.” It wasn’t the tight pants and leather jacket he wore in the concert halls.
He shrugged. “Had to look the part of the tenor.”
“You’ve managed well. The eyeliner definitely matches the color of the tux.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you making fun of me, Ms. Jones?”
“I’d never dream of it, at least not on your opening night.”
“Our opening night. Do I get a break-a-leg kiss?”
“Not part of the job description.”
He got up and walked to her, dragging his gaze over her from top to bottom. “You look nice.”
“Nice?” She glanced down at her simple black dress. “I haven’t changed yet, but thanks.”
He touched a strand of hair that had escaped her bun. “Do you mind?”
At the contact, her breath caught inaudibly. She cleared her throat. “Mind what?”
His fingers moved to the clip at the nape of her neck, but she took a step back.
“I’m not going to say good luck,” she said quickly.
“Please don’t.” He smiled his knowing smile. “Will you watch the first half?”
“Of course, it’s—”
“Don’t say it’s part of your job.”
“I always watch the show.”
“Just tell me you’ll do it because you want to, even if it’s a lie.”
She hid her discomfort with a laugh. “Why?”
“Because for nine years I searched for only one face in the crowd.” He added softly, “Yours.”
They stood frozen in the moment, his eyes asking for something she wasn’t sure she interpreted right. Her whole being wanted to comfort him. She touched his cheek as carefully as one would catch a butterfly, but then the door opened and shattered the fragile emotion in which they were trapped.
A mature woman with purple hair threw her arms out. “Ivan!”
“Kate, how kind of you to make it.” He pulled back his sleeve and checked his watch. “In the nick of time.”
Alice couldn’t hide her surprise. “You’re Kate?”
“Not what you expected?” Kate winked.
“Kate, this is Alice Jones.”
“Nice to finally meet you, Alice.”
Ivan frowned down at Kate. “Where were you? You said you’d arrive this morning.”
“I have other clients, you know.”
“You didn’t answer your phone. I was worried. Anything could’ve happened. You could’ve had an accident on the way or—”
“Shuut!” Kate held up a long, red nail. “Bad luck to say it out loud.”
Alice moved to the door. “I have to get ready. Break a leg, Ivan.”
He looked like he was going to argue, but finally only said, “You, too, Princess. You’ll be wonderful.”
She nodded and hurriedly left under Kate’s questioning gaze.
When the media was seated and the show about to begin, Alice escaped to her favorite sanctuary on the bridge. The red backstage lights flickered, the sign that the show was on in three seconds. Loud clapping erupted from the audience as the curtain lifted. Ivan stood on the side stage. He squared his shoulders. His chest rose as if he took a deep breath, and then he walked out on the stage under the spotlight.
The screaming was deafening. He took a bow and presented Verlene, who basked in her moment of glory. Alice shifted her weight to get comfortable. The music started playing. When Ivan’s voice filled the hall, her arms broke out in goosebumps. Each note had a pure quality that vibrated with emotion. Not only was his talent mind-blowing, but it was also clear that he was having fun. His onstage enthusiasm was contagious.
By the third song, the crowd was so out of control, extra security was called in to keep the girls away from the stage. Johnny would be pleased. So far, the show was a roaring success. She had a lot to live up to. A sick feeling nestled in her stomach. It was better to concentrate on Ivan. His dark hair shined in the lights. A film of perspiration showed on his forehead.
As he broke into the final aria of the fourth song, a movement on the side stage caught her attention. Alice frowned and straightened. No one was supposed to be there. She squinted through her glasses. A man wearing jeans and a light-colored shirt moved slowly down the steps of the set. He couldn’t be a technician or stagehand because they all wore black. He lifted his arm. The underside was scaly, like the skin of a lizard. Impossible. It had to be a visual effect from the lights. He turned sideways, exposing deformed vertebrae that gave a hunchback impression. She leaned forward as far as the rail allowed. Could it be an actor in costume? But no one except Ivan was supposed to be on stage. The man watched as if he was waiting for his cue to act. What was he doing? Something flashed in the spotlight.