Brett ducked under the scaffolding. Jesus. Had she seen him?
He had to move or she’d pass right by him. Brett pulled his hat down over his forehead. Where could he go? He have to risk passing her to go into the coffee shop. The other direction was a women’s clothing store. No way was he going in there.
He glanced at the cement truck. The passenger seat lay open. Brett sprinted across the path, opened the door and slipped into the truck. Using the side mirror, he watched as Bianca passed.
Two days ago, Bianca had been standing behind him when he was talking to Mrs. DeBarr about not being her son, then she walks right by his construction site.
Brett rubbed his hand over his face. He had to be more careful before he let the hammer out of the bag.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The driver stared at Brett. “You okay, son?”
“I’m fine.” Brett shook his head. He’d take a ghost over Bianca any day.
***
Alaina’s cab stopped in dead traffic. She checked her watch as anxiety crawled up her spine. Rehearsals began in fifteen minutes and she still had to change into her costume. It had been absolutely worth it to stay late and hear Jackie sing, but now her own career hung in the balance.
She tapped on the glass. “Can’t you do something about it?”
“I can’t do nothing, lady.” The driver chewed the end of his cigar and honked at the car in front of him. He reminded her of Danny DeVito in the movie Twins. That crook would have done anything for money, even if he had to convince an innocent and naïve Arnold Schwarzenegger he was his long lost brother. Wait a second…
She slipped a hundred dollar bill under the glass. “What will this do?”
His eyes bugged out at the sight of the green. He backed up and took a sharp turn into the left turning lane, then when the light turned green, he gunned it right into the other lane, cutting off six cars.
Alaina gripped the door handle so hard her fingers turned white. The things you do for your career.
The cab peeled rubber and careened down some alley she didn’t even know existed, then ran a red light. They reached the opera house with two minutes to spare. Thankful to still be alive, Alaina paid the driver with the hundred dollar bill and ran up the stairs. She broke through the doors as the concertmaster stood to tune the violins.
Thank goodness Pamina isn’t in the beginning.
With any luck, the conductor would work in chronological order again.
She grabbed her gown from the costume rack and slipped into the bathroom. Never in her life had she taken off all her clothes so quickly. She threw the gown over her head and pulled the fabric down around her.
The waist got stuck over her breasts.
What the?
She’d just worn it last Friday. How could she have gained so many pounds?
“Altez wants Pamina in five minutes.” One of the serpent holders announced from the bathroom door.
Nope. Not rehearsing in order today. “I’ll be right there.” Alaina gritted her teeth and squished her breasts flat. The fabric pulled against her chest, making her feel claustrophobic. How could she sing if she couldn’t even take in a good breath?
She yanked, and the fabric ripped down the back as she pulled it over her breasts.
Shit.
How many rolls had she had eaten at the luncheon? Two, three? Still, not enough to cause a fabric explosion. All of her other clothes fitted, even her skinny jeans.
Unless…someone had altered her costume.
What was the head costume designer’s name? Catherine! That’s it.
Alaina stuck her head from the bathroom door and waved down the closest person while her naked backside grew cold. One of the musicians from the orchestra came over. “Get me Catherine, the head costume designer. I’m having a wardrobe malfunction!”
The musician looked at her like she was some crazy diva.
“Don’t just stand there. Go now!” She used her most commanding tone.
He nodded and jogged off.
Alaina waited on the other side of the bathroom door while the seconds ticked away. Being late to rehearsal, not having time to warm up, and tearing your beautiful costume went against everything her vocal teacher had taught her to battle performance anxiety. She used to think her teacher was a little too overzealous. But she was right. She’d been thrown off by so much, she could hardly remember her name, never mind the German lyrics of the opera.
The door opened and Catherine came in. “What is it my dear?”
Alaina blinked back tears. “The costume doesn’t fit anymore.”
Catherine crinkled her gray eyebrows, reminding Alaina of a confused librarian. “But I made it to your exact specifications.”
Alain turned around, exposing her bare butt. “What do you call this?”
“Oh my.” Catherine’s eyes widened as she pulled at either side of the fabric. “My work has been altered.”
“Altered?”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand. Only the cast is allowed access to the costume room. But, these are not my stitches. Someone’s taken the dress in.”
Anger rode over Alaina in an ugly tidal wave. Bianca. She must have taken the dress home over the weekend and made her own alterations. That conniving little bitch.
“I’ll fix it after rehearsal.” Catherine pulled at the seams with no luck.
“After?”
“They’re waiting for you on stage, my dear.”
“Am I going to moon the orchestra?”
Catherine disappeared and reappeared with a red cape. The older woman draped it over Alaina’s ripped bodice. “Here. You can say I made the suggestion.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
She shook her head and gave her an encouraging smile. “Today Pamina is going to save the world.”
Embarrassed and frazzled, Alaina struggled to hold her head up high as she walked on stage.
“An interesting choice of accessory. However, you’ve given your character too much credit. Pamina is hardly superwoman.” Bianca smirked from backstage. A few of the pink flamingos laughed.
Alaina ignored her.
Altez raised an eyebrow as she took her place, but didn’t comment on her wardrobe change. Alaina assumed her pose and signaled she was ready to begin. Tamino turned his back on her, and the strings began with a sad pulse of sound.
Focus. Remember those words. She’d been singing this aria for years, ever since her first recital in high school. She calmed herself, and the words came like an old folk rhyme from her childhood.
“Ach, ich fühl’s, es ist verschwunden, Ewig hin der Liebe Glück!”
Even though she sang of lost love, all she could think of was Bianca’s sneaky little trick. She had some nerve stealing Alaina’s dress. What had Alaina ever done to her? Sure, she’d beaten her in a few competitions back in their Julliard days, but that was a long time ago, and fair was fair. It wasn’t her fault Bianca was such a sore loser.
Altez stopped the orchestra and Alaina’s voice trailed off.
“No, no, no.” He gestured to Alaina. “You’re sounding too agitato, too irritated. Pamina isn’t pissed at Tamino, she’s lamenting over the loss of his love.”
Alaina nodded as shame burned in her cheeks. She’d let Bianca get the better of her. It was ruining her performance just like Bianca wanted. She’d played right into her hand.
“Got it.” Alaina nodded, secretly cursing herself. She could do better than this.
Altez raised his baton. “Again, from the beginning.”
As the strings pulsed their heavy chords, Alaina tried to put herself in the mind set of someone who’d lost their true love. She thought of all of her own disappointments, starting with high school and going right through to the Italian tour last summer, when that oboe player stole the hottie tour guide she’d wanted. But, none of them were love. Not true love.
Alain realized on stage, in that moment, she’d never experienced true love at all. Only when
she had, could she sing this aria in the way it was supposed to be sung. The Elizabeth Taylor look-a-like at her audition had been right. She’d never rise to the aria’s power unless she had experiences of her own. Could Lance change that?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Work and Play
Brett gathered his courage and picked up the old plastic phone in his apartment. Alaina’s card rested in his other hand, her alluring picture smiling at him like she had some great secret to tell. It was embarrassing enough he’d waited this long. But he’d to make sure his phone number was private so it wouldn’t register on Alaina’s cell in case she tracked it back to his shitty apartment. The phone company hadn’t called back until this afternoon, and he’d been out on the job all day.
He dialed the number. Hopefully, she’d still pick up.
The phone rang twice. “Hello?” Her velvety voice sang across the other end.
“Alaina?”
“Yes. Who do I have the pleasure of talking with?” She teased as though she smiled when she said it. He could picture that smile right down to the red lipstick. He’d tasted that lipstick and those lips.
“It’s…Lance.” God did he wish he could say his real name.
“Lance! I was beginning to think you had second thoughts.”
Speak like a businessman, not like some backwoods logger. “My apologies. I had some…issues to attend to.”
“Well, I hope you got them straightened out.”
“I did.” Most of them, anyway. There was still the massive elephant in the room called Lance.
“So, we’re still on for this weekend?”
“Absolutely.” He couldn’t wait. Every shift finished meant he was another day closer to seeing her.
“Good, because I bought my hiking shoes. I’m looking forward to breaking them in.”
He bet she looked great in them. Alaina could make a potato chip bag look sexy. “I can’t wait to see them.”
“And you already have yours, I take it?”
“Of course. Wouldn’t leave home without them.” Brett had a pair his father had given him when he’d started working at their logging company. They were well worn in, but he couldn’t bring himself to throw them out and upgrade.
“Should I pick you up Friday night, let’s say around five?”
“Sure.” Brett would have to get out of work early, but Phil would cover for him. After securing a date with Sarah due to Brett’s blunt tactics, Phil owed him one.
“Okay, I’ll meet you at your office.”
“No!” Panic surged inside him. “I may not be there at that time.” Think, think, think…Why don’t we meet at the Met? I’ve always wanted to take a tour.”
“You’ve never been to a performance there?” She sounded surprised.
Brett cursed silently. A Wall Street businessman would have visited at least once. He didn’t want her thinking he severely lacked culture. But, the closest thing he’d seen to opera was the commercial with the singers riding the bus. Oh, and that Bugs Bunny cartoon in his childhood where Bugs cuts Elmer Fudd’s hair. Did that count? “I’m afraid I haven’t had the time.”
He bit his tongue.
“How tragic. Well, you’ll have to come to mine. It’s next weekend. I can get you a free ticket. Although, you can probably afford your own.”
“No, a free ticket would be nice. Especially if it comes from you.”
“Aren’t you sweet.” Alaina sighed. “I’ll stop by the box office before Friday.”
“Thanks. I’d love to hear you sing.” Man, this woman was aggressive, she’d asked him out three times, and he hadn’t even said a thing. Sure took the pressure off his shoulders. Maybe all these years he’d been missing out by dating shy girls who couldn’t say boo to a tree.
“And you shall. But not this weekend.” Alaina laughed. “All work and no play makes me crazy.”
He laughed, deciding to give her some of her own medicine. He couldn’t keep the lust from his voice. “Don’t worry. We’ll play.”
***
Alaina hung up the phone feeling hot all over. Had she finally met her match? Lance drove her crazy in both good and bad ways. She’d waited forever into eternity for his call, but when he had called, he didn’t disappoint. Could she put up with his mysterious absences on a long-term basis? She’d never dated a Wall Street businessman before, so maybe his busy life was part of the package.
She turned off the lights and climbed underneath her satin bed sheets. Sleep came easily now that she taught at the school during the day and sang in her rehearsals at night. The twelve-hour days gave her a sense of accomplishment. She never thought helping others would bring her so much joy.
Alaina closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Her last thoughts were of Lance’s rugged face.
“Dolce, it has to be more dolce.” Altez pleaded with Alaina from his conductor’s podium in front of the orchestra. He tapped his baton insistently and the violinists picked up their bows. “Again. From the beginning.”
“You don’t have what it takes.” Bianca whispered from backstage. She wore a pink mini dress three sizes smaller than Alaina could squeeze into, with matching pink heels. “You can’t even fit in your wardrobe.”
Alaina looked down in horror. She wore nothing but a towel, and her hair dripped water on stage. How could she have come so ill prepared?
The orchestra began to play, but she didn’t recognize any of the music. Panic surged inside her, constricting her throat. What scene were they in?
She pulled on Tamino’s arm and he turned around. He was dressed in a black coat with a white scarf around his neck- not the traditional princely garb he’d worn at the other rehearsals. He started signing, “Dalla Sua Pace…”
That wasn’t The Magic Flute. He’d sung the first aria of Don Giovanni.
She ran backstage, clutching the towel. There must be some mistake. She must have come on the wrong day or the wrong time. Alaina found the costume rack and dug for something more appropriate. She pulled out a tiny ballerina’s tutu, then a slender long gown that would have fitted her left leg. Next, a clown’s costume made for a ten year old. Every outfit she picked was too small.
Where was Catherine? Wasn’t she supposed to fix her gown?
Her phone rang. Alaina followed the chime of Beethoven’s fifth symphony to the audience and found her purse. The number was private.
Lance! It had to be him. Maybe he could help her- bring her something more fitting to wear. She pressed the receive button and held it up to her ear. “Hello?”
Silence, then static.
Alaina raised her voice. “Hello? Lance?”
Mrs. DeBarr’s voice came on the other line. “You can’t have him. He doesn’t belong to you.”
“Excuse me, ma’am. I just want to take him out for the weekend. I’ll bring him back.”
“Nonsense!” Mrs. DeBarr growled. “You don’t know what true love is.”
Alaina dropped the phone. Mrs. DeBarr was right. She didn’t know, and Altez could hear it in her voice. She’d only fool them for so long.
Alaina shot up in bed, anxiety eating a hole in her stomach. What a dream. It had played upon all her insecurities, her size, her singing, her inexperience with true love. Could Altez hear her fear in her voice? She certainly hoped not.
Hazy morning sunlight filtered through the beige curtains of her high-rise apartment. Alaina checked the alarm. Five more minutes until it went off. She could have used those extra minutes of sleep, but not if she had to stay in that awful dream. Instead of lying back down, she pulled herself out of bed and started the shower. Two more days and then Lance would be all hers for the weekend. She could make it through.
When she got to class, most of the students sat at their desks with their heads down, scribbling. She looked over a few shoulders of the kids in the back and pride surged through her.
They were writing their operas.
“What are we doing today, Ms. Amaldi?” John pulled back his greasy hair and ac
tually made eye contact. He still wore the same sweatshirt he’d worn all last week. Alaina made a note to go out and buy him a few more over the weekend with Lance. She bet the lodge had some nice ones.
“Today we’re writing the themes.”
“You mean actual music?” Jackie narrowed her eyes.
“That’s right.” Alaina walked to the front of class. “I’ve brought some mp3s from Wagner’s famous opera Tristan and Isolde. He uses the same thematic organization that John Williams does in Star Wars. Every character has a theme.”
Jackie raised her hand. This time her long sleeves were tight, covering her wrists. Alaina hoped the scars weren’t any worse. She’d reported Jackie’s scars to the school nurse, but the overworked woman had insisted the school had already talked to her mom. Wondering if she’d ever get close enough to Jackie to ask about it herself, Alaina nodded to the girl. “Yes?”
“How are we supposed to write music if we don’t know what it sounds like?”
She had a point. They didn’t have keyboards or notation programs. All she had was a stack of staff paper. “I’ll sing it for you.” She handed out the paper, each student taking a sheet and passing down the rest. “Think of the intervals. You all took Music Theory One. You know what each interval sounds like. Put them together to develop a theme that fits each character.”
She played them the Tristan and Isolde excerpts, and they began composing their own themes. She knew none of them had enough harmony experience to write an entire orchestral score, but she was taking this one step at a time and making it up as she went along. It could be a total disaster, but at least they all were having fun and learning.
After class, Jackie showed up for her first vocal lesson.
“You sure you want to do this?” Jackie placed her backpack on the floor and gave her a practiced look of defiance mixed with disappointment as though she wasn’t worth the extra time.
“Of course!” Alaina threw up her arms. “You’re very talented, and with some coaching you could go really far. Now, the change isn’t going to be right away, and you have to be willing to practice.” She raised both eyebrows.
Jackie shrugged and played with the frayed end of her sleeve. “Yeah, I’ll practice.”
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