The Dividing Line

by Victoria H. Smith

  The Dividing Line

  A Novel

  By Victoria H. Smith

  THE SPACE BETWEEN SERIES

  BOOK TWO

  THE DIVIDING LINE: A Novel

  Copyright © 2014 by Victoria H. Smith

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Victoria H. Smith

  Cover design by WHAT GEORGIE DID

  Cover photo by RyanKing999

  Editing by Taylor K’s Editing Services

  Layout by Scott Smith

  Chapter One

  Lacey

  My eyes were closed as I ran my finger along the familiar texture. The edges were smooth, the surface glossy. I didn’t need to see the image within the photographic paper to know it by heart. My mama’s smile was as familiar to me as the warmth of the sun, her touch as memorable as the crisp, light air of a summer breeze. My ears hummed with the memory of her voice. The one that was so thought provoking and all consuming. I could sit forever listening to it, becoming lost in the powerful, melodic sound.

  It was as if Mama came back to me as I stroked the old photograph of her onstage. The snapshot was taken the first night she’d sold out the Chicago Theatre back home; that evening she captured so many hearts with her voice. She wore a long pencil skirt, her hair pinned up and looking fabulous.

  She could have put Billie Holiday to shame.

  With her hand wrapped around her radio microphone, she belted toward the crowd. Mama exuded elegance and confidence. She had all the things I needed tonight.

  I was so nervous when I came to the theater tonight. The last three weeks had been rough for me, following a severe case of laryngitis, and this evening’s show sold out three times over. But with Mama here with me now, those fears managed to fade away. She soothed me with her image, wrapped me up in a haze of her beauty and courage. She also helped with the sadness settled deep within my heart. The faint opera house noise coming through my door was a reminder of finality. Paris would soon be only a memory, a wonderful dream.

  Time always seemed to stop in the moments I had with Mama, which was why I took advantage of them. The time was short, but I didn’t care. She kept me calm and safe, though she was no longer with me. However, I didn’t feel her absence in these moments. I only felt her presence.

  “Mademoiselle Douglas?”

  My assistant’s voice broke me out of my trance. My eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, I forgot where I was. Mama’s image always did that to me. I smiled at the black and white photograph in my hands.

  I promise to make you proud.

  Sophie appeared at my side. “Mademoiselle Douglas?”

  I gave a faint laugh as I stood from the chair at my armoire. The white ball gown embellished in glistening sequins I wore was a bit bunchy and caught on my chair as I rose. I couldn’t complain about the dress of my opening number, though. It was my favorite. I made eye contact with the worrywart that was my personal assistant. “It’s Lacey, Sophie. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  The little French woman was at least forty-something. It felt completely inappropriate for her to be addressing me with such a formal title. It didn’t matter if I was the star of the show. Where I came from, respect was given to those who were older, regardless of who they were.

  “Oh, sorry, Mademoiselle Douglas—” She shook her head, her face flushing pink. “I mean, Lacey.”

  I placed my hand to my lips, smiling behind it. I really adored my assistant. She was such a sweet woman.

  “I was just coming to escort you to the stage. It’s almost time.”

  I drew in a deep breath, easing it out slowly. I’m okay. I’m okay.

  Closing my eyes, I held Mama’s photograph to my lips and said a silent prayer. She would be watching over me tonight as she always did. I turned back to the armoire to tuck the worn edge of the photograph into the mirror. The red roses covering the surface of the shining oak would surround her this evening.

  The perfect setting for her.

  The arrangements on the armoire varied in size and display. Though all beautiful, I cherished both the largest and the smallest. The smallest was a single red rose. Though it had no note, I knew who it was from, which was why it was one of my favorites. And the largest I valued not because of the size, but again, because of the sender. She was from the States and one of my biggest fans. I decided Mama’s picture needed to go right next to the card that came with the flowers, which was already tucked into the mirror. The small card read:

  Lacey!!!

  I so wish I could be there to cheer you on, but in the end, I just couldn’t work it out. You know how it is over here. *rolls eyes*

  I laughed. I did unfortunately know.

  Anyway, I know you’ll totally rock that shit. Why? Because you’re awesome, and awesome people don’t suck.

  Love you, miss you,

  - Adele

  I smiled, reading it again, but shook my head at the same time. It hadn’t even been a year since the weekend Adele stayed with me and brought me the one person I needed to keep me strong. But the now sixteen-year-old was already changing. I’d have to read the amended version of the card to a certain someone. He’d send her a nasty email if he knew she was cussing.

  I took a moment to adjust Mama’s photo next to the card, nibbling on the spot where I usually wore my lip ring. I always slid it out for performances.

  “And, um, Mademoiselle Douglas?”

  I chuckled. Old habits die hard I guess. “Yes, Sophie?”

  “I also wanted to let you know… he’s not here yet.”

  I was suddenly no longer okay. My heart quickening, I rose up to meet the eyes of my assistant. “What do you mean he’s not here yet?”

  “He just isn’t here,” Sophie said, gripping her clipboard. “I checked the seat you had reserved for him in the front row, but he hasn’t arrived yet.”

  As I let her words sink in, the pre-performance anxiety from earlier quickly returned. It swirled around, churning deep within the pit of my stomach. Drake wasn’t here. Where was he? He said he’d be here. He promised he wouldn’t miss this one. He promised.

  Taking a moment to breathe, I calmed down and released my initial thoughts. “I’m sure he’s just running late. He had to work tonight, so I bet it’s just traffic or something.” I reached for my satchel under my chair. “I’ll just call him real quick. I bet he’s on his way.”

  Sophie put her hand on my shoulder just as I was about to retrieve my phone. “There’s no time. We need you out onstage. I’m sure you’re right. It’s probably just traffic. He could be here already.”

  Sophie gave me a bright smile, but it looked forced. In fact, I knew it was. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to break the news to me that Drake was running late… or ultimately absent. He always had a good reason. His job kept him so busy. But this wasn’t one of those times. He always let me know if he couldn’t make it by leaving word with Sophie. Her reassurance now lessened my panic and allowed me to put my phone back in my arm bag.

  “Right,” I said, nodding to myself as I put my bag on the floor. “You’re right. He’s probably already here, and if he couldn’t make it, he’d let you know.”

  Her face went hopeful. “Exactly, and I have my phone on me. Haven’t heard anything yet.”

  I flattened out the skirt of my dress. He was on his way. He had to be. He
wouldn’t miss tonight no matter how busy he was. I left my dressing room full of mock confidence, following behind Sophie. I couldn’t let the other performers and crew know of my nerves. They all relied on me to do my job.

  Sophie’s petite stature led the way through the maze of sets, crew, and performers. Everyone was bustling, ready and waiting to start our last show of the season. Sophie was a pro and got me to the stage within seconds.

  I stood at the side, smoothing out my dress again. “Sophie?”

  Like the amazing assistant she was, she held up her phone. “Nothing. I’ll go take a peek and see if he’s here.”

  She had only taken a step when that familiar chirp of her cell phone hit the air.

  I closed my eyes. He could be calling to say he’d be late. That’s all.

  Sophie opened her phone. “Bonsoir, Monsieur Drake.”

  I shook my head. She was even formal with him too.

  “Yes, she’s right here with me,” Sophie said, smiling wide at me. Again, so forced she wasn’t fooling anyone.

  My hopes were low, but I didn’t let it reflect on my face.

  Sophie made a motion like she was going to pass the phone to me. I held out my hand but lowered it when she pulled back and did the weirdest thing. Her smile suddenly became very un-forced. In fact, glee took on a new meaning with her expression.

  My heart fluttered. I knew he was just late.

  Sophie then nodded and rattled off a bit of French.

  I found this unusual. True, Drake was eloquent in the language, but the two didn’t usually speak it in front of me since I wasn’t fluent. When it came to singing, I had the dialect down pat. Everyday speaking was another story. I was embarrassed to admit that I relied on Drake more than I should for translations here in Paris. I was even more embarrassed to admit that I let him because hearing him speak it turned me on so much.

  My cheeks warmed just thinking about it.

  The two chatted for a few more seconds before Sophie held out the phone to me, and that expression of hers didn’t leave her. I now couldn’t wait to talk to him.

  As I took the phone, Sophie rushed away quickly, muttering something about coming right back. I didn’t take much notice since I was so excited to hear from Drake.

  “Hello,” I spoke into the receiver.

  “Hey, babe.”

  I couldn’t stop my smile if I wanted to. His voice always had that effect on me. Drake had one of those deep, sensual voices that could melt a girl into liquid, and it never failed to work on me. It also helped me regain the confidence I’d lost on the way to the stage. He always told me my voice calmed him, but he had no idea what his did to me with its comfort. “Hi, baby. Are you on your way?”

  “Lace…”

  He sighed into the receiver after that, and with that sigh, any hope I had of seeing my boyfriend on the final night of my show faded away.

  He couldn’t do this to me. Not tonight.

  “I’m so sorry, babe. That’s why I’m calling,” he continued, his voice sounding so down. “I tried, but there’s just no getting out of here tonight.”

  “But, Drake,” I said, biting my lip to keep from reflecting my emotions. He could not know I was upset. He could not know I was upset. I refused to let him know. I was too stubborn to allow him to hear how hurt I was.

  I calculated my next words to keep in any shakiness. “It’s the last night.” I swallowed. “You can’t get out of it?”

  “I know, and I want to be there more than anything, but I just can’t. The curators are breathing down our asses tonight. A huge lot just came in for a big exhibit coming up. I was on my way out, but my boss pulled me in after one of the guys fell ill. We’re on a huge deadline.”

  I wanted to argue with Drake. Plead with him and beg him to come. I wanted to confess that I needed his presence more than ever. Mama wouldn’t be here to see me in my finale, but that loss was lessened knowing that the man I cared for the most would be there in her place. I wanted to let him know all those things, what it meant for him to be here with me, but in the end, I held my tongue. I knew what his job at the museum meant to him. How it was the only thing allowing him to physically be here with me in Paris for the last eight months. He left everything he had in his life back in Chicago. His money. His education. And ultimately his family.

  How could I be so selfish to beg him for one more favor when he’d already sacrificed so much for me? And it’s not like he hadn’t seen the show over a dozen times. He even helped me rehearse my lines and knew the show as well as I did. It was hilarious watching all six-foot-two of him play my nephew, who was my five-year-old co-star, and even funnier to witness him perform the part of my disgruntled maid in my living room. The woman wore a corset, lace ups and all, and Drake, being the sport he was, always strapped one on. Half the time I couldn’t get through my lines with a straight face, and we’d both fall into a fit of laughter. I had to admit, those scenes were always some of my favorites to rehearse. When Drake played my love interest, those were the best times. Those scenes usually ended up at his place… in his bedroom.

  I bit my lip, fighting a smile.

  He sighed again. “You know what? Forget everything I said. I’ll work out something and head right over. I might not make it until the second act but—”

  “No.” I raised my hand to stop him like he could see me. “It’s fine. It’s no big deal, really. I know you wanted to be here. And it’s not like you haven’t seen the show a million times. It’s okay. I’m okay.” I actually really meant that. I was relieved to know I did. When he didn’t say anything, I continued, “And you should work anyway. You need the money.”

  The minute that last bit left my lips I regretted it. I could almost feel his frustration through the receiver. Drake hated talking about money. Mostly because it was the one thing that ever caused any tension between us.

  “Lace, you know it’s not about that. I have an obligation here. My boss really did me a solid by giving me this job without any experience.”

  I did know. I really did, which was why I regretted what I said. “I know.”

  “Okay. Good. Hey, did you get my present?”

  The single rose he had delivered was economical, functional, and practical. I couldn’t be happier that he was being sensible with his money tonight. “I did, and it was beautiful.”

  “And did you get my sister’s flowers? She said she was sending some.”

  “Yep, and the card she sent. It said I’d rock because awesome people don’t suck.” I was already getting started on that amended version.

  “Well, she has something there.”

  I laughed. “Right. She also said she wished she could be here but couldn’t work it out. I didn’t know she was trying.”

  I didn’t think Adele would even attempt to come back here after what had happened the weekend she visited with Drake last fall. According to Drake, the weekend his sister spent at her friend’s house—a.k.a. her short trip to Paris to see me—revealed the truth to their parents the minute the teenager’s credit card bill came in the mail. Needless to say, she was grounded for quite some time.

  “Yeah, she was. You know how my parents are, though.”

  Again, I did know. The only reason they didn’t give Drake any problems was because he cut off communication with them. Something I didn’t like, but I accepted it since that was how Drake had chosen to deal with their pushiness. Neither one of them approved of our relationship. Drake was a member of a high profile family in the States, and his family also happened to be white. I was neither of those things, giving his parents the perfect reason for not wanting their son to be with me. Our only ally from his family was Adele. Over time, I hoped that would change. We could only hope.

  “Hey, um, is Sophie back yet?” Drake asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I had almost forgotten about my assistant. I gazed around, but the backstage was only filled with the crew and cast, frantic as they made their last minute preparations. “No, she
isn’t. Why do you ask?”

  “She’s, uh, bringing a surprise. Something a little bigger than the rose. I wanna get off the phone with you so you can take it all in.”

  I shook my head but couldn’t help smiling. I should have known a single rose was too simple of a gift from my boyfriend. I hoped he didn’t go overboard like the charm bracelet he gave me last year. I could only guess at how much it cost. Not to mention, he couldn’t spend money like that anymore since he cut himself off from his parents. “What are you up to, Truman Drake?”

  Normally, Drake hated when people called him by his first name. It reminded him that he was named after his jerk of a father. I was pleased to know I could get away with it without reprimand—that I was the exception.

  “Patience, Lady Gwendoline,” he said, referring to my character’s name. “You’ll see soon. Right now you’ve got a performance to do, so you gotta get your head in the game.”

  I nodded like he could see me, standing up tall. “Right, head in game. Check.”

  He chuckled. “You’ll do great, babe. You always do. Hell, you don’t even need me.”

  I did need him, but he was right. I would be okay.

  “I’m going to let you go now because you’re on in—” he paused, and I assumed he was checking the time. “Ten. After your cast party, stop by my place. I wanna see you.”

  “Okay. We’ll probably be out late though.”

  “Don’t worry about that. If I’m asleep when you stop by just wake me up. No big deal.”

  The moment had come for me to let go of my crutch. I didn’t want to, and I couldn’t make myself say the words. He ended up doing it for me.

  “I love you, Lacey.”

  There weren’t words in existence to describe how much I loved him. I settled for the usual. “I love you, too, Drake.”

  “And I want you to know I didn’t mean for your gift to be a stand-in. I know she can’t make up for me not being there, but I hope she helps.”

  I didn’t understand what he meant and couldn’t ask him as my assistant rushed to my side.