by MB Austin
“Erlea and Imane we tell tomorrow. Nico, well…we’re thinking maybe a serious case of food poisoning from tomorrow’s lunch.”
“I wouldn’t trust him to not tell Nigel either. Alejandro?”
“The kid knows the show as well or better than Nico. You trust him?”
“Yep. And Roger. All they really need to know is that I’m standing in for the finale, right? If Erlea’s on board, everyone else will follow.”
“How do you feel about getting her on board?”
Maji looked down at her plate, surprised to find it nearly empty. “Good. I think she’ll want to nail the bastards who stole her father from her as much as I do.”
* * *
Maji turned in to the alley to the loading dock and spotted Santxo chatting with one of his security force. Only after the shooting at the Real Cartuja had they finally put someone back here. The closer to opening day, the tighter security got. Better late than never.
“Hey, Santxo. What brings the chief down?” Holding a giant flower arrangement.
He smiled at her, his mustache lifting at the corners. “Celebrities. A French women’s football team sent Erlea these. I guess they are big fans of hers.”
Odds on it was Adrienne’s team. “Did they send a note?” Maji asked.
“Of course. Full of good wishes, no doubt.” He held it out.
Maji plucked it from his fingers. “No doubt. Here, I’ll take them to Erlea.”
“Very well,” Santxo said, his proud posture deflating a bit. “Give her my best.”
Maji nodded. “I always do. And she’s very grateful for your hard work. She says so regularly.”
“Really?” He straightened up and touched his hat brim. “Well, no one gets hurt on my watch.”
Maji set the arrangement down as soon as she was out of sight backstage. She dialed Dave and glanced at the note, confirming her suspicions. “Got flowers and a note from Adrienne at the theater. Don’t know if it’s a peace offering or a threat. You wanna come see?”
“I’ll bring the kit,” he replied.
* * *
Erlea read the card from Adrienne as Maji and Dave stood by in the empty wardrobe room. The disassembled flower arrangement lay on the counter. Wish I could come see your show in person. They think I am mailing you an apology. But if you steal my girlfriend, I swear I will come find you.
“Who does she think she is? You can’t own a girlfriend. Is this supposed to frighten me?” It only made her want to tear the flowers to shreds. “How is Celeste?”
“We haven’t told her yet,” Maji said.
Erlea hated to worry Celeste, but…“I think you should. What if Adrienne shows up in Barcelona? I don’t think counseling is doing the trick.”
Nico banged through the door. “There you are. We open tomorrow and you are playing with flowers?” He glared at Maji and Dave. “You two get out. You’ve interfered enough with my show.”
“Your show?” Erlea said. “Stop acting like you do all the work. It takes dozens of people, and they deserve the credit more than you.”
“You would say that.” Nico scowled, his inner ugliness ruining his handsome features. “You’ve got this sudaca doing your stunts for you. Too bad she can’t sing.”
Erlea moved toward him, her pulse beating loud in her ears at the racist epithet. “How dare—”
“Don’t bother,” Maji said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’ve been called worse things by better people.”
“Nico,” Erlea said, measuring her words. “Get out. Pack and leave. Nigel will send you severance papers.”
“You can’t fire me. Not now.”
“No, I’m way overdue,” Erlea said. “And if you don’t go this instant, I will have you removed.” She felt Maji give her shoulder a friendly squeeze as she stared Nico down.
“You’ll hear from my lawyer.” Nico spun on his heel and left.
Erlea blew out her breath. “At least I didn’t hit him. I nearly lost it for real.”
“So did he. He forgot to snap,” Maji said.
* * *
Celeste’s fingers trembled as she pulled up Adrienne’s Skype ID. Lunch didn’t want to stay down, even with the ginger tea she had sipped all afternoon while trying to keep her focus on her new clients. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and hit send.
Adrienne’s face appeared after only three rings. “Celeste? Is that really you?”
“Yes. We need to talk.”
“Damn right,” Adrienne agreed. “Turn on your view. I can’t see you.”
Same tone. You can’t change her, Celeste reminded herself. Only yourself. “One moment.” She took another long breath and clicked the video button. “There. Now—”
“God, you look so beautiful,” Adrienne cut in. “I’ve missed you so much. Don’t tell me you’re sleeping with her. She isn’t right for you. If you just give me a chance—”
“Stop,” Celeste said. “Just stop, and listen for once. You and I are over. Nothing in my life is your business. Do you understand?”
“Then why did you pull that crap with the video? Are you trying to get me kicked off the team? Therapy is bullshit, but I’m going for you. For us.”
Celeste shook her head. “No. You are going for you.” And for the next woman who dares to love you, she added silently. “You need help. Not just to keep your career. But to be happy. I do want that for you.”
“Then give me another chance. I’ve changed.”
“Really? You sent Erlea a threat.”
Adrienne had the decency to look embarrassed. “I didn’t mean it. It’s the Ambien. I sent flowers to, like, a dozen people. And bought a lot shoes, too.” She sat up straight. “You can’t blame me for that. I wasn’t myself.”
Nothing had changed. “Doesn’t matter what the excuse is,” Celeste said. “You still aren’t taking responsibility for your actions. I won’t contact you again. And I expect the same from you.”
“Or what?” Adrienne’s tone and expression made Celeste swallow hard.
“Or I will press charges against you,” Celeste said.
Adrienne laughed. “You out me, you out yourself.”
“I can live with that. I am not ashamed anymore,” Celeste said. “Good-bye.” She ended the call before Adrienne could reply.
While she was making a fresh cup of tea, Celeste’s phone buzzed. If that was Adrienne…no, she did not have the new number. She sat and blew on her mug, checking the texts.
Thinking of you. <3 Virtual hug, Erlea’s message said.
Celeste called her, smiling. “Got your message. Thank you. What is <3?”
“It’s a geeky heart,” Imane called out.
“I’m taking this off speaker and making her go inside,” Erlea said.
“No, it’s okay,” Celeste replied. “Are you on the balcony? Show me the view.”
Erlea turned on the video call function and Celeste saw the bands of pink and orange clouds above the ocean. Then Erlea turned it to Imane, who waved, and to her own smiling face at last. “Hi. How are you?”
“I’ve been better,” Celeste said. “I called Adrienne and told her off.”
“Wow.” Erlea’s face in the little viewscreen scrunched with worry. “Are you safe? Do you want me to find Maji? How do you feel? I mean…shutting up now.”
Celeste laughed. “I will update Maji when she calls me back. No rush. And I feel good. I’m sorry she dragged you into this, but I’m glad, too. It gave me the push to confront her at last.”
“I’m proud of you,” Erlea said.
“Me, too,” Imane called out. “What for?”
Celeste smiled. “Please fill her in later.” At Erlea’s nod, she continued. “Right now, I want to hear about you. Are you ready for your big night?”
“I feel great. Oh, and I fired Nico today.” Erlea laughed at Celeste’s obvious astonishment. “I used my sensible shoes to give him the boot.”
Celeste raised her tea mug in a toast. “To freedom and bett
er days ahead.”
“Did you get the tickets?” Erlea asked after clinking glasses with Imane.
“Yes. Maria and Jordi are so excited by the VIP seats. And the backstage passes.” Celeste paused. “Me, too. Thanks. I can’t wait.”
Erlea beamed at her. “And your names are on the after-party list. I will see you there?”
“Count on it. I want to dance with you again.”
* * *
“Look what happened this morning. There could have been a bomb in those flowers, yet you carried them directly to Erlea, didn’t you? You can’t even keep her safe from one crazy woman,” Nigel said. “I want additional security on patrol tomorrow night. I will hire them myself.”
“Fine,” Romero replied. “As long as they don’t keep us from apprehending Echeverra.”
“You’re sure you’ll know it’s him?” Nigel asked. “Not like last time.”
Dave’s calm facade flickered. “Mr. Winterbottom, we never thought the docent was Echeverra. We just hadn’t reached the rendezvous yet when the shooting occurred. I expect that scared him off.”
“And what will you be doing to protect Erlea while they hunt this terrorist at my show?” Nigel asked Maji.
Maji put on her contrite face. “I’m sorry, sir. I won’t be there. I’ve been called home on family business.”
“Oh, right. I heard some mention. My condolences, dear.”
Maji bit her tongue, looking down at her shoes in lieu of a reply.
“Erlea shouldn’t be in any danger,” Dave said, “so long as we scoop up Echeverra and get him far from her.”
“Well then, the sooner the better,” Nigel said.
Romero nodded in agreement. “Let us know when your security contractors arrive, and we’ll brief them on how to recognize Echeverra and when and how we plan to apprehend him.”
Chapter Twenty
Maji watched Roger finalizing Erlea’s makeup for the opening number. “Nervous?”
“Only about the finale,” Erlea said.
Roger looked between them. “Well, that’s why you’ve got an understudy, innit?”
“Yeah,” Maji said. “I’ve got the moves down and nobody will guess it’s not you.” Roger didn’t know about the anticipated shooting, so she added for good measure, “What with my flawless lip-synching.”
Alejandro popped his head into the do shop. “Ten minutes to curtain.” He spotted Maji. “And Nigel’s coming to give his pep talk.” He ducked back out, chatting on his headset as he went.
“Out of sight with you, then,” Roger said to Maji with a wink. To Erlea he added, “Don’t worry. You probably won’t need her, and either way he’ll never know.”
“Thanks, Rog,” Erlea said as Maji hid herself.
The door swung open again, and Nigel strode in. “Nearly ready then?”
“As I’m ever going to be,” Erlea replied.
“You’re a rock star, dear,” Nigel said. “The crowd out there is wild for you already. Chanting your name. Just go out there and do what you always do. Knock ’em dead.”
“Nigel,” Erlea said. “Sod off.”
“There’s my girl,” Nigel said with a wink. As he left he tossed back, “I’ll be watching.”
Maji waited a few minutes to come back out, got the all clear on the comm from Dave, and gave Erlea a hug.
“I just wish we could warn Celeste,” Erlea whispered. “She’s going to be furious with both of us.”
“We’ll all live through it,” Maji promised. And hoped she was right.
* * *
At intermission, Celeste waited in the line for a glass of wine with Maria and Jordi.
“I can’t believe we’ve never seen her live,” Maria gushed. “She’s incredible. Nothing like the shy homebody we know.”
“Now, how can you say that?” Jordi replied. “We saw her play clubs for years before she got famous. She had a stage presence even back then. Admittedly, the arrangements are more complex, the instrumentals more layered…”
“Sexy, you fool. She’s on fire up there.” Maria looked to Celeste for confirmation. “Am I wrong?”
“No,” Celeste said. “Half the people in this theater want to go home with her, I’m sure.” Including me.
Jordi squinted at her. “You’re not jealous, are you? Despite her reputation, you have nothing to worry about.”
“Oh no. I mean, we’re not…that is, we’re friends.” The sight of Reimi with a date on her arm saved Celeste from having to defend that assertion. She waved at them.
Reimi introduced Celeste to the dapper butch who appeared thoroughly smitten with her, and Celeste introduced them to Maria and Jordi.
“You are neighbors?” Reimi exclaimed. “That must be so exciting. Think of the parties,” she said to her date.
The lights blinked and the chimes tolled, calling them back to their seats.
As they walked back to the VIP section, Maria said, “I loved that woman’s tuxedo.”
“She has the build to carry it off,” Jordi said. “I should have asked where she got it. It would look good on me, don’t you think?”
“Almost as good,” Maria replied.
Reimi seemed to think so, Celeste thought with satisfaction. She made a note to tell Maji. Hopefully she’d get to see her backstage after the show and introduce her to Jordi and Maria.
* * *
Maji watched Celeste and Erlea’s friends resettle into their seats. In the next box up, she spotted Dr. Lyttleton and his very young petite blond wife. Even if it meant waiting, or learning to live with an ugly souvenir on her shoulder, she was not giving him her money.
“Aguilar’s guy is out, ours is in place,” Dave said through her earpiece.
“I hope you got somebody really good,” Maji said. “There’s people at home who need me back in one piece.”
“And ye shall be delivered, Rios,” Dave said. “We got you Taylor. He volunteered.”
Maji let out a sigh of relief. Tom had made it through Fallujah with barely a scratch. He was not only like a brother to her, but he was also the best sniper she’d ever known. If she had to get shot very precisely while in motion in the air, he was her top choice. “Hallelujah.”
“Glad to bear some good news,” Dave said with a smile in his voice. “Enjoy the show.”
The crowd roared as the house lights went down for the second half of the concert. Erlea strutted onto the stage, belting out one of her top-grossing songs. Hands reached up toward her as she bounced down the catwalk, flinging sweat from her hair. Solo, she ruled the stage. And then the dancers came out and she shared the glory, syncing with them and the aerialists overhead.
Maji watched the second half from her spot in the wings, obscured from the crowd and dressed in Erlea’s finale costume. During the song before the finale, she pulled the harness on and checked the calibration. If Tom missed his target on her back, she wouldn’t be around to care. But it would gut him. And everyone at home had too much pain already. She double-checked everything before announcing into her comm, “Rigged up and ready to roll.”
“If you need to sing along, don’t worry, your mic’s not live,” Dave said. “But remember I can hear you, so take pity.”
“Fuck you, Brown.”
“Now I know you’re ready,” Dave replied. “Erlea’s set on vocals.”
And the rifle’s in Tom’s hands, Maji reassured herself. “Rios out.”
When the big finale arrived, Erlea stepped out in the costume matching Maji’s and danced and sang through the first three verses as planned. Then she left her backup dancers and stepped into the wings still singing, just long enough for Nigel to think she was harnessing up. She gave Maji a kiss on the cheek, looking worried.
Maji flashed her a grin and stepped out to the roar of the crowd and the glare of lights. As the final verse kicked in, she sang along. It helped keep her in sync, made her feel connected to Erlea as the crowd watched their idol. With a silent prayer, she lined up the run to the wall. Just
play a perfect game, Rios.
As she ran through the air toward the outstretched arms in the window and the wall tilted away, Maji cleared her mind. Then she felt the bungee catch and took a breath just as the bullet slammed into her back. The shove from the impact met the backward pull of the bungee, and she dropped to the stage several feet short of the normally rehearsed landing point.
The dancers swarmed over to her, abandoning their elegant moves as the curtain fell prematurely. Maji struggled to breathe, aware of the band finishing the song without Erlea’s vocals as several pairs of feet ran toward her. Dave scooped her up and carried her off the stage as Alejandro used the PA system to ask the audience to remain seated.
“Technical difficulties my ass,” Maji gasped as the air finally returned to her lungs.
* * *
Celeste stood. Why had Erlea fallen like that? She had rehearsed so relentlessly. No, something was terribly wrong. “I have to go,” she said, climbing over Jordi and Maria to reach the aisle. She pushed her way through the other concertgoers who were beginning to mill about, restless.
“Just a few more minutes, ladies and gentlemen,” Alejandro announced, first in Spanish, then English, and finally in German.
Celeste reached the stage, where a line of security posted up to keep fans from rushing over the top. “I’m a doctor!” Celeste yelled, waving frantically. They ignored her. She spotted Santxo and called his name. He motioned the guard nearest her to help her up.
Celeste scrambled onto the stage with his help, then ran for the curtain. She batted her way frantically through the heavy velvet. And there, calmly tuning a guitar, was Erlea.
“I told her it would scare you,” Erlea said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh my God,” Celeste said, grabbing Erlea by the collar and kissing her face all over. “I thought they’d shot you for real this time.”
