by Rosanna Leo
Hungry and lonely in ways I didn’t understand.
Chapter Two
It would be a packed house.
As I entered the concert hall, I noticed the throng of people trying to obtain last-minute tickets. Good luck to them. Mozart's Requiem always sold out.
As I headed toward the chorus women’s communal dressing room, I mentally ticked off the items stuffed into my various bags. My requisite black gown. My sheet music, toiletries, hose, and high-heeled shoes. Oh, and my favorite eye shadow, the sparkly one the Mac makeup artist assured me would make my dark eyes “pop.” As I wrenched open the dressing room door, I looked back to ensure my pantyhose weren’t trailing on the ground behind me.
I hadn’t exactly left home in a good frame of mind.
I couldn’t stop thinking of him. The dream of the blond man seemed on a continuous loop in my head. Even as I’d gone about my day, I felt as if I smelled his nutmeg-sweet scent everywhere. His plaintive voice, low and quiet in my ear, followed me as I ran errands and practiced my music. He taunted and teased and tormented me.
And I loved it.
Once safely ensconced inside the dressing room, I grabbed my cell phone to check for any texts. One from my brother, Enzo, wishing me luck and warning me not to puke onstage. Funny. And one from Lizzy. It simply said, “I don’t care about the time difference. Call me now.”
I stepped outside the dressing room and found a quiet corner in the maze backstage, behind a couple of large speakers. Knowing I’d be needed onstage soon, I dialed.
She picked up right away. “Hello, Renata Bruno, famous soprano.”
“Ha. Look, I’d love to chat but I’ll be needed onstage in a couple of minutes. What happened?”
“You happened, my dear. They loved your audition tape!” She squealed so loudly I thought our call had been interrupted by a seal in heat.
I froze, not wanting to jump the gun. It had been weeks and I’d tried so hard to put the audition out of my head. “Awesome,” I replied in a tentative voice. “This is the part where you tell me they liked me, but decided to go with someone else, right?”
“Renata,” she almost screamed. “You dummy, they want you!”
“But…why haven’t they called me?”
“The group admin is calling tomorrow morning. Because they know about our friendship, I begged them to be able to break it to you first.” She laughed. “They knew I’d blab anyway. We’re going to work together! You can tell Anthony Price and Clarissa the cocksucker to fuck off.”
I almost dropped the phone. “If I find out you’re pranking me…”
“Would I prank you over something of this magnitude?”
No, Lizzy knew how much this opportunity meant to me. Only one other person would understand how much this role meant and that was Finn. They’d both seen me obsess over Mozart’s life. They’d listened to me discuss the intricacies of each last note. I’d always considered myself lucky enough just to get a choral role, but this? “Really?”
She let out another garbled squawk and I knew she was crying. “Yeah. So finish up there and pack your bags.”
Just as excitement began to make my hairs stand on end, dread crept along my spine. I’d wanted this so long, but what if Anthony had been right all along? What if I couldn’t do this? “Oh, Lizzy. What if this is a mistake?”
“What? I’m not hearing this.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat, not really sure what I was trying to say. “What if I can’t do this? Anthony has always said I don’t have the chops.”
“Oh, sweetie. Anthony’s a prick and you’re letting stress get the better of you.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Look what we do for a living. People pay big money to listen to us. I know it freaks me out sometimes.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I haven’t let myself dwell on this job with Sonata, in case I didn’t get it, but it’s always at the back of my mind. I want it so much.”
“And it’s yours now.”
Salva me.
Okay, stop thinking of him. It was just a dream. Only he’d felt so real. As I pondered the possibility of working in England for the summer, his voice echoed in my ear again, solidifying my decision.
Come to me.
I had a strange sensation he was telling me to go for it. Could my dream lover be an odd metaphor for my new life?
I needed to do this. I needed to step outside my box.
“Renata?” Lizzy interrupted my reverie. “Are you listening?”
“Sort of. Sorry. This is a lot to absorb.”
The stage manager walked around the corner and tapped me on the arm. I jumped. “Onstage please, Renata. Rehearsal in five minutes.”
“Shit. I gotta go, Lizzy,” I said, my voice cracking. “I can’t afford to be late tonight. Anthony is already on my case. I’ve been…edgy. Not at my best. I’ve made a few mistakes during rehearsals. Clarissa’s loving it.”
“Tell Clarissa to kiss your ass and mine. Pretty soon, you’ll be in England with me, and rid of those petty people. Our conductor’s not an asshole.”
“Hey, you never told me who they hired.” I hadn’t done any further research for fear of jinxing myself. “Aren’t you going to tell me who my new boss is?”
“Right.” She paused. “Look, we’ll talk more later. You need to preserve your voice for the concert.”
“Elizabeth Barclay. What are you hiding?”
“Oh, stop being paranoid. Now, go wow them, bitch.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed. Leave it to Lizzy to know just what to say.
However, as I put my phone away, I wasn’t sure I could perform at all. My nerves had been slowly getting the best of me for weeks, making me forget simple passages and mistake my cues. Anthony had caught me staring at the floorboards several times, always lost in memories of my night lover. Even now, acid sizzled in my gut as I prepared to head outside. I remembered his scent, remembered his touch, and the familiar choking sensation began to squeeze my trachea.
The feeling I couldn’t breathe unless he held me.
Hold yourself together.
Damn. It had been a long time since I’d been this nervous. My pulse jumped into a new, erratic beat and my head swam. From out of nowhere, tears appeared in my eyes and I blinked them away.
In the course of mere moments, I’d gone from feeling fine to cold. Shivers danced along my skin and I felt a low ache in my core. A neediness. An emptiness. I suddenly felt as if the hand of fate had picked me up and flung me across the room. As I struggled to fight the strange emotions, a sob burst from me.
Surely, Lizzy’s news had just thrown me for an emotional loop. Yes, that had to be it.
So why wasn’t I excited? Why did I feel distraught?
The last time my soul had felt so bruised was as I finished up my university degree. Right after Finn had dumped me. As much as I understood he needed to accept the scholarship to continue his studies in Edinburgh, I still felt dumped.
And then my parents’ car had been hit by an inebriated bastard, sending me into a total tailspin of grief. I barely remembered the soul-crushing days after the accident. It was probably good I didn’t remember. I’d forced myself to forget, unable to grapple with so much loss.
I remained comfortably numb, like the Pink Floyd song.
Finn didn’t even know my parents died. I stopped hearing from him once he was back in the U.K. Some might say our “clean break” was the healthiest option, but it had almost killed me. Still ashamed at how it affected me, I refused to discuss it with anyone. Other people dealt with grief and moved on, but I’d been stuck in a hole for so long.
Although I hadn’t admitted it to anyone else, not even Lizzy, I’d awoken every morning wanting Finn. Remembering the crush of his strong body against mine. The way he held me in my small dorm room bed, whispering his pet name for me.
“Lark,” he’d say as he entered me with youthful confidence. “You feel so good.”
>
As visions of Finn vied with visions of the new man from my dream, I swallowed hard to compose myself. I couldn’t fall apart before a performance.
“It’s just stress,” I mumbled, echoing Lizzy’s thoughts. “Just stress. But now you have a wonderful new job waiting for you. Life’s about to get a whole lot better.”
Repeating it under my breath, I put my phone away and headed onstage.
»»•««
The quiet swish of taffetas and silks filled the corridor leading to the theater wings. I stood with the rest of the choristers in communal silence, waiting for our cue from the stage manager. When she nodded, we filed out onto the stage and into position, our footsteps drowned out by the audience applause.
I began to feel the familiar flutter of nerves in my stomach as I waited for the soloists to take their places. Oh, how I dreamed of being in their shoes. Of being able to do justice to music I adored. I watched, my heart aching, as they positioned themselves before the chorus. As usual in our concerts, Clarissa made sure she stood half a foot further downstage than the other three solo singers, soaking up the spotlight as if it were meant only for her.
I ignored her antics. Ever since the tongue-biting incident, she’d been subdued. I suppose I couldn’t very well begrudge her a bit of attention tonight. One of those needy creatures who needed to be the center of attention, she sought it everywhere.
Smiling out into the darkness of the theater, I felt a renewal in my confidence as I listened to the applause. I casually looked down to ensure that my breasts hadn’t popped out of my strapless gown.
Anthony took a moment and looked right at me. Even without words, I knew he was trying to make sure I had my shit together. During the dress rehearsal, I’d once again made amateur mistakes, the sort of faux-pas a freshman might make on the first day of music school. He’d pulled me aside, aghast at my performance.
I’d assured him I was just a little bit under the weather. What else could I say? “Don’t mind me. I’m trying to decide how to resign from your choir. Oh, and I’ve been having a lot of sex dreams and waking up wetter than a synchronized swimmer.” Yeah, that would have gone over well.
I nodded now, to reassure him I was indeed of sound mind and could perform. Expelling a silent breath of frustration, he dropped his frown and tried to smile at me. Okay, it looked more like a grimace, but I appreciated the effort.
A hush came over the hall as the conductor lifted his baton. I savored the exquisite moment of silence just before the music begins. The anticipation in the auditorium seemed palpable. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, the miracle of musicians perfectly in sync created an extraordinary crescendo of sound. I breathed in, head held high, relishing those first gorgeous harmonies.
The image of the man from my dream sprang to mind. Strangely enough, so did Finn’s. Of course, Finn would have loved this concert. I had a sudden sensation my dream man would have loved it too.
Not now. I tried to banish both dream men from my consciousness.
The Introitus movement began and adrenaline streamed through my veins. The woodwinds danced in counterpoint with the strings, much like the serpent winding its way into Eve’s heart, showing her a new world. Filling her with foreign temptation. The same music lured me, consumed me. The striking syncopations made me want to weep for sheer beauty. But by the time the baritones struck their first haunting note, I was ready for action.
As much as I wanted to sing solo, I also loved the choral parts in Requiem, so haunting and poignant. Staying focused, I did everything I could not to repeat my earlier mistakes. Somehow my training kicked in and I was able to vanquish the parts that had fouled me up before. By some miracle, my voice remained calm. It didn't waver once. I breathed deeply, sustaining my sound right into the last note of the phrase.
Yes. No mistakes.
I glanced at Anthony. He had tears in his eyes and I knew if he hadn’t been working, he would have jumped over the podium to hug me. He grinned at me as he conducted, and I saw his chest fill with a deep breath of happy confidence.
See? I wanted to yell. I can sing and you’re about to lose me!
As the evening progressed, I allowed myself to relax and enjoy the other performances. The mellow tenor voices, the manly baritones, and the earthy contraltos. And I didn’t even think smug thoughts when Clarissa’s voice cracked a couple of times.
No, I just lost myself in the music. With a few well-chosen notes, I felt transported back to the dingy practice rooms Finn and I used to frequent at the university. He’d conduct me and I’d sing until my voice was hoarse.
As the concert drew to a close, I sighed inwardly, thanking my stars I’d managed to keep a clear head and a clearer voice. In the last movement, the chorus sang our Kyrie eleisons and Christe eleisons and I gloried in the perfect blend of voices. No feeling could rival being right in the middle of that amazing sound as it punctuated the theater. I knew the audience would be willing victims as the voices pierced their way into the darkness, each note another magnificent shaft of sound.
Glancing around the auditorium, I gauged their reactions. Everywhere I looked I saw open jaws and eyes shimmering with awed tears.
This, I thought. This is the power of beautiful music.
As I surveyed the audience, my eyes happened to glance up at the mezzanine. Immediately, my eyes locked on one face.
No.
In the first row of the mezzanine, dead center, sat a man with wavy blond hair. Even from a distance, I could make out the shade of his blue eyes. He stared at me, only at me, relentless.
I froze. It was the man from my dream.
As I began to shake, I heard a voice in my head. His voice, somehow cutting right through the applause. The same voice I’d already heard many times, murmuring his desire, threatening Clarissa at rehearsal. I could even see his lips mouthing the words “Come to me.”
The conductor bowed. The soloists bowed. The other chorus members bowed.
I stood still, caught in his gaze, unable to move.
My last memory of the performance was of one of the baritones running to catch me as I collapsed.
Chapter Three
“And this is your room until we get to the B&B in Shanley. Small, but homier than a hotel.”
Lizzy showed me the room in her London flat that would be my home away from home for the next couple of nights. The Shanley Music Festival took place in a village a short train ride out of London. For the duration of the festival, we would remain at the local B&B, as rehearsals would be long and frequent. No sense carting our tired asses back to London every night.
Although it was generous of her to house me for a spell, I was still angry with her. I had been since I got the call from the Sonata administrator, the one during which I was told who my new boss and conductor would be.
Finn Mackenzie.
She grabbed my hand, her twinkly eyes pleading. “Are you going to hate me forever?”
“I just don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell me about Finn?”
“Renata, come on. I know Toronto is an ocean away, but let’s face it, the music world is a small one. You were bound to run into him at some point. Besides, if I’d told you, you never would have auditioned.”
“Damn straight. What were you thinking?”
She took my bag and tossed it onto the bed. She then pulled me down with her and put her arms around me. “I was thinking it’s been eight years. You’re no longer the innocent girl who thought the sun rose and set with Finn and you can’t rearrange your career to avoid him.” She sighed. “You knew he wouldn’t stick around forever.”
Had I known it? I might not have voiced it to Lizzy, but with Finn, I’d felt forever might be possible. He made me believe in eternal love, no mean feat. But then he’d gone, leaving me in tatters. Leaving me hard and closed and suspicious.
“You knew what you were getting into when you started dating him. Yes, he’d come for the conducting undergrad in Toronto but he’d always planned to
return to the U.K. to do his post-grad work. He was honest with you about his future from day one.”
“Yeah, but like any fool, I guess I hoped we could somehow still make it work.”
“He did offer to take you with him,” she said in a gentle tone.
“Lizzy, you know I couldn’t afford to relocate. And after what happened to Mom and Dad…”
“I know.” She put her hand on mine. “Do you want to talk about them?”
“No.” My stock answer. She knew better than to push me. After years of trying, she’d given up. I couldn’t blame her. She could only handle so much stubbornness.
“Okay. Then here we are.” She placed her hands in her lap, her smile full of empathy. “Look, you’ve surmounted incredible obstacles to get here. Don’t let Finn get the best of you now. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t had men in your life since. Like you said, you’ve dated.”
Sure. The short roll call of men I’d dated might even appear impressive to some. Investment bankers, doctors, even a Shakespearean actor. They’d been fun and smart and sexy.
But none of them had been Finn. As my first, a mist of nostalgia surrounded him, a mist that refused to evaporate, much to my annoyance.
For some strange reason, I was determined to believe he was special. Those other men had treated me well, but when we broke up, I hadn’t felt much. When Finn left me, on the other hand, he might as well have wrenched my still-beating heart right out of my chest.
I couldn’t let him have that power over me again.
“He was the one who reviewed your audition tape,” she revealed. “He really wants to work with you. You know he’s always been your biggest fan. I think it was inevitable you’d work together again.” She chewed on her lip. “What did he call you in college? Little bird?”
“Lark.” Even as I whispered it, I remembered his full lips on mine. On my breasts. Between my legs. He only ever called me the pet name during moments of intimacy. Even now, if I so much as watched a documentary on the bird of the same name, I got hot and bothered.
“That’s so fucking hot,” she mused, staring into the distance.
