And now, Titine—the person I needed most in this life, and the only person I could talk to about the frightening note I’d just received and my fears that Thomas had resurfaced in Paris—thought I was going to sleep with the father of her unborn child later tonight.
As I squeezed myself into a tight ball, wishing I could hide out in this damp black corner forever, I peeked down at my naked chest pressing into the tops of my thighs and realized that after the latest turn of events, baring my breasts to a live audience suddenly didn’t seem like such a big deal.
TWENTY
With ten minutes to showtime, I peeled myself off the floor, smoothed down my feathers, and headed toward the wings. I would follow through with this performance, breasts and all, but then things were going to change around here. Things had to change.
I obviously was not going to sleep with Robert. And although I knew that if I did not follow through with the agreement, Jean-Pierre would take away my apartment and my job, I didn’t care. I was bound to lose them both soon anyway, simply because I wasn’t willing to be Jean-Pierre’s whore any longer.
Despite all of the other terrifying events that had taken place since I’d arrived in this life, I knew that right now, the most important thing I could do was to make things right with Titine. I had to let her know that no matter what kind of arrangement Robert had made with Jean-Pierre, I had no intention of following through.
With all of the threats coming my way, and less than four days left to accomplish whatever I’d been sent back to do, I couldn’t leave Titine alone, thinking that I would actually sleep with the man she loved and had conceived a child with, just to snag a starring role in a film.
And if there had been any part of me in Ruby before I’d arrived here, I hoped she would never have committed such a hurtful act, especially not to her best friend.
Backstage, all of the scantily dressed dancers who’d been here just moments ago were now gone. They’d taken their places in the wings. Which meant I was late, and that Jean-Pierre was going to be furious.
But just as I picked up my pace, a deep whisper of a voice traveled past my ear.
I stopped and listened, hoping it had been my imagination.
“Ruby.”
My heart picked up its already staggering pace as I realized whose voice it was.
It was his voice. His whisper. The same one from the bridge.
Thomas.
My skin crawled with fear as my limbs froze in place, my heart thumping in my ears.
I closed my eyes and felt my feet go numb as he whispered my name again and again. Soft, but steady, he didn’t stop, the rhythm of his voice lulling me into a trance.
Ruby, Ruby, Ruby.
I felt myself going deeper and deeper, my eyes unable to open, my feet plastered to the ground.
And there, in my darkness, I saw the long, nasty scar that wrapped around his hand, his fingers clutching the knife. The New York City skyline sparkled in the floor-to-ceiling window behind him, and when I lifted my eyes this time, I saw his face.
His angry black eyes glinted in the dim light of the apartment, flashing their control over me.
“Ruby,” he whispered. “Don’t run from me, Ruby. I’ll find you. I’ll always find you.”
And he had. Thomas has found me.
As the sound of his voice laced through the air, I felt my entire body, my whole self—my dreams, my desires, all of me—succumbing to him. To the fear of what he would do to me if I resisted him.
But as my heart threatened to fold up into itself and never again resurface, it was then that I remembered.
I wasn’t only Ruby anymore. I was Claudia now too. And between the two of us, we were strong enough to escape. Strong enough to fight back.
My eyelids shot open, but just as I took my first step toward the glaring red Sortie sign at the back of the building, a cool hand wrapped around my elbow. I ripped my arm away from the strong grasp and took off toward the door.
“Ruby! Where are you going? You’re on in five minutes!”
My adrenaline-charged brain registered the voice that was yelling after me. It wasn’t the same one I’d heard just moments before.
It was Jean-Pierre.
My lungs heaved for air as I took in the confusion on his face.
“Were you just whispering my name?” I called to him between gasps.
“Quoi? No, I was yelling your name, because you’re on in five minutes. And in case you have forgotten, Robert is here.”
“I don’t think it’s such a good idea for me to be here right now, Jean-Pierre.”
He walked toward me, the coolness in his brown eyes not even remotely scary compared to the vision I’d just had of Thomas. “Thanks to you, my biggest investor in the club is dead. I do not care about what is going on in that messed up tête of yours. I promised Robert a night with the most beautiful girl in the club, and you will do it.”
I broke Jean-Pierre’s threatening gaze and cast my glance around the darkened backstage area, looking for a sign of the man I was sure I’d heard whispering my name just moments ago. But amid the shadows, I saw no one and heard nothing except the muffled sound of music playing in the front of the club and the dancers’ feet clattering about in the wings.
Jean-Pierre grabbed my chin and whipped my face back toward his. “It’s time, Ruby. Let’s go.”
“You give me fever,” I purred into the microphone as my new, unabashed body strutted around the stage, my long legs straddling the red chair under the spotlight, my eyes flirting with every drooling man in the audience.
I let the muscle memory take over and guide me through this performance, knowing that of anything in this crazy life, the one thing I could trust was that Ruby’s body was trained to captivate an audience like no other. And although my mind was running a mile a minute, and amid my flirtatious glances, I was actually scouring the shadowy faces in the audience for any sign of Thomas, I knew I could count on Ruby to be the dazzling, shining star she’d been before I’d arrived.
While I shimmied, kicked, straddled, and purred like the good little sex kitten the men expected me to be, I tried to keep the bile from rising in my throat each time I spied Robert in the front row, his California-blue eyes fixated on me throughout the entire performance. And I tried not to think about the whisper, or what had just happened to me backstage and why I’d gone into that strange trance at the frightening sound of Thomas’s voice.
As I wrapped up the opening act of the show, my hips jutting out to the side, my long eyelashes batting at all the eager men in the crowd, I wondered where Thomas had been hiding, and most of all, why he hadn’t taken me when he’d had the chance.
TWENTY-ONE
After the show, I spotted Titine backstage with a purple bag slung over her shoulder. Red circles dotted her cheeks. She took one look at me and made a mad dash for the exit.
“Titine!” I called as I ran to catch up, my legs sore and my voice scratchy from two hours of nonstop singing and dancing. “Please, Titine. I need to talk to you!”
But just as she flipped around to face me, a familiar hand took hold of my arm. It was Jean-Pierre smiling his greasy smile, Robert by his side.
“I’m sorry, I have to—” I began, but stopped when I saw the hurt look in Titine’s eyes as she jetted through the door. Damn.
“Robert, this is the woman you’ve been waiting to meet,” Jean-Pierre interrupted as he ushered us both toward the front of the club. “And Ruby, this is Robert Maxwell, the famous Hollywood film director who’s come here to see you. Why don’t you both enjoy a drink or two at the bar and get to know each other a little better?”
I opened my mouth, willing a spontaneous and brilliant excuse to come out, but when Jean-Pierre raised his stern eyebrows in my direction, I clamped my lips shut. Titine was long gone, so I had to focus on the task at hand. Getting a drink at the bar would give me a chance to find out if Robert was as dirty as Jean-Pierre or if he was actually a decent human being. Plus,
being in a crowded area would hopefully keep me safe from Thomas and from whoever had sent that creepy note…unless, of course, they were one and the same.
The three of us emerged from backstage into a hazy cloud of smoke. Blinking my eyes, I fanned the gray swirls out of my face as we made our way through the front of the nightclub, which resembled a full-blown strip joint now that all of the topless dancers had come out to play. Two murders later and ties were still loosening, breasts were still bouncing, and massive doses of alcohol were being consumed, all in the name of what must’ve been considered fun in 1950s Paris.
This was not like any club I’d been to back home.
Jean-Pierre led us to the bustling bar in the corner, then slipped his hand around my waist and leaned into my ear, the strong stench of whiskey on his breath drowning out the staleness of his cigarettes. “One night, Ruby,” he whispered. “One night to make your career and make us both rich. Don’t blow it.”
I feigned a giggle as I peeled Jean-Pierre’s hand off of me and nodded for him to leave me alone with Robert. What I really wanted to do was kick Jean-Pierre in the groin, but I figured that wouldn’t help my case at this point. Besides, Antoine had already taken care of Jean-Pierre earlier by giving him a nice, fat shiner over his left eye.
I needed to focus on finding out more about Robert and about his relationship with Titine. And more important, I had to figure out a way to ditch him. I knew I’d never get away from Robert with Jean-Pierre watching us like a hawk, though, so I linked my slender arm through Robert’s muscular one and led him behind a thick cloud of smoke at the end of the bar.
He leaned close to me, the smell of his strong aftershave faintly familiar. “You were quite impressive up there tonight, Ruby. Even more so than the last time I saw you perform.”
“Thank you,” I said, combing my eyes over his tan skin and his white-blond hair, which was so out of place in France, let alone in this dungeon of a club.
“I spoke with Jean-Pierre about you earlier, and—”
“Let’s order a drink, shall we?” I cut in, not wanting to solidify the evening plans, not wanting to hear those words out of his mouth.
He furrowed his blond eyebrows in confusion. “Sure, of course. You probably need to unwind a little before talking business.”
Business? Was he referring to the business of sleeping with me or the business of casting me in one of his films? Or was it all one big package deal for him?
I leaned over the bar and ordered us both a vodka tonic, then downed the entire drink in one voracious gulp while trying to figure out a game plan.
“Wow, that was fast.” His pearly-white teeth sparkled as he grinned, but I detected a hint of distress in his gaze. He’d just found out he was going to be a father, after all.
I motioned for the bartender to pass me another one, and when I glanced to the side, I noticed Robert’s eyes bobbing toward my chest.
That was it. I couldn’t pretend anymore. If this man was really my future grandfather, I had to be up-front with him. I was not going to sleep with him.
“Listen, Robert, I know what Jean-Pierre promised you, but it’s not going to happen.”
Robert blinked his big blue eyes as his face fell. “He told me you were extremely interested. Don’t you want to know what the—”
“No, I’m not interested at all, you asshole. Titine is my best friend, and if you think—”
“Wait,” he cut in, “I think you’re misunderstanding me. I don’t know what Jean-Pierre has been telling you and Titine, but I didn’t fly all the way to France to sleep with you. Not that you’re not every man’s dream—you’re a knockout—but no offense, you’re not really my type.”
“Oh…so you’re really just here to talk to me about your film?”
He sighed as the tension in his face faded. “Yes. I think you’d be the perfect lead for my next film. It’s about a dancer in a Paris nightclub, and who better to play that role than the rising star of one of the most popular clubs in Paris? But it’s Titine I want to be with. I don’t know what all this talk is about that I’m supposed to spend the night with you.”
“You really want to be with Titine?”
“Yes, I haven’t stopped thinking about her since I last saw her. And she told me something tonight…something important. I really want to be there for her. But I’m afraid she was given the same misinformation as you were, and now she’s furious with me.”
I smiled at him, feeling overjoyed that my grandfather was actually a decent man. That something in this life actually seemed to be going right for a change. “You need to go to Titine’s apartment and make this right. Let her know that it was all a big misunderstanding that sleazy Jean-Pierre cooked up and that you didn’t know anything about it. You didn’t, did you?”
“Jean-Pierre said something about giving me a night with the most beautiful girl in the club. I’d just assumed that somehow he’d found out about Titine and me, and that that’s what he’d meant. I had no idea he’d meant it was you. Again, no offense. You’re stunning.”
“None taken.” I placed my hand on Robert’s arm and leaned closer so the dancers behind him wouldn’t hear. “Is there something for Jean-Pierre in all of this? Have you promised him anything?”
“Well, if I cast you as the lead in my film, it will provide amazing press for his club, you see. The star of Chez Gisèle landing the lead in a Hollywood film? It will make this place blow up. Crowds will flock to see you perform.”
“Which will put more money in Jean-Pierre’s pockets.”
“Exactly,” Robert said.
“But there was no other monetary agreement? Like you investing in the club?”
“No, nothing like that. I told Jean-Pierre I wanted to see you perform again and speak to you about my upcoming film. That’s it.”
“Well, just so you know, Jean-Pierre is expecting a bit more. In fact, he’s just over there.” I nodded to where Jean-Pierre sat at a table full of topless dancers, smoking a cigar and floating his eagle eyes toward us. “So, to keep him from acting like a maniac and thinking I’ve blown the deal, let’s leave together, and then you can go to Titine and explain everything to her. I know she’ll understand, and she’ll be happy to see that you’re not with me.”
Robert reached for my hand. “I like the way you think. Let’s go.”
I winked at Jean-Pierre from across the room as Robert led me out of the bouncing club, the music and smoke and breasts so overwhelming I couldn’t wait to breathe in the crisp winter air.
But just as Robert was slipping his coat around my bare top, a pair of chilly hazel eyes appeared in the wings.
It was Véronique, watching us.
She narrowed her eyes to tiny slits, took a long puff of her cigarette, then her thin, wispy body disappeared into the crowd.
She must’ve been livid that Robert had asked to see me perform, that he was considering me for the lead role in his next film. I had enough problems to deal with right now, though. Jealousy was running low on the list.
I shook off the shiver that had run up my spine and followed Robert out of the club into the chilly Parisian night. On the corner of Boulevard Saint-Germain, I pointed Robert in the direction of Titine’s apartment.
“Thank you, Ruby. I’ll be in touch about the film. That is, if you’re still interested.”
I smiled. “As long as you don’t mess things up with Titine, I’m interested.”
He laughed. “You girls really do stick together, huh?”
“You have no idea.” I noticed a dimple pressing into Robert’s left cheek and remembered that my mom had one in the exact same spot. She had his eyes too, and his broad smile—that is, when she’d actually remembered to smile, which unfortunately, hadn’t been too often.
I wondered why my mom had never met Robert. He seemed so intent on making things right with Titine. What could’ve gone wrong?
Robert kissed me on the cheek and squeezed my hand. “You’re different from what I wou
ld’ve expected, Ruby. You’re an incredible woman.”
With his kind words, he took off down the dark Parisian boulevard, a harsh wind whipping at his silky blond hair, the scent of his aftershave like a salty ocean breeze lingering under my nose.
I leaned against the cool stones of the building and breathed in the cold air that was void of the suffocating cigarette smoke from the bar. I thought again about Robert’s face, and how I had seen my mother in him. I tried to think back to a time when anyone in my family may have given me more information about my grandfather—something that I hadn’t initially remembered. But all I could conjure up was the memory of my mom telling me at a young age that she’d never known her father, and that was that. I’d known not to question her or to bring it up ever again. And my grandma had never mentioned him to me either; I was sure of it. I didn’t even remember seeing any photos of Robert in my grandma’s old albums.
But as Robert disappeared around a corner, his heart and his feet carrying him to my young grandmother, I wondered if maybe what I had just done had changed the past.
The first time around, Ruby may not have overheard the argument between Titine and Robert, and she may have fully intended on sleeping with Robert. And that would’ve caused a permanent rift between Ruby and Titine, as well as made Titine decide never to speak with Robert again.
Which would explain why my mom had never known her father.
As I watched a graceful French woman stride down the dark Parisian sidewalk with her nose in the air and an eager man on her heels, I realized this was all just speculation. There was no way of knowing for sure what had really happened the first time around, and when I closed my eyes and tried to call up Ruby’s memories of this night, of meeting Robert, of Titine’s pregnancy, all that came to me was an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I hoped the nausea wasn’t a sign of things to come, but rather remnants of fear left over from all of the terrifying incidents that had taken place over the past two days. And above all, as I thought about my mom and about how she’d possessed neither the warmth that was my grandma’s shining characteristic nor the charm or kindness I had seen tonight in Robert, I hoped I had stopped whatever had occurred the first time around that had taken my grandfather out of the picture.
Dancing with Paris (A Paris Time Travel Romance) Page 16
