A Blues Singer to Redeem Him

by Elle Jackson

  Lorenzo led her to the back of the club first. “This is the kitchen. They can make you whatever you want—on the house. We serve the best homemade pretzels and hot ham this side of the Missouri River, but we usually eat breakfast together as a staff, while we have the fewest customers.”

  Showing Evelyn around made Lorenzo look at his club through fresh eyes. He’d renovated the old building to include a state-of-the-art kitchen. Most nightclubs served only a few items, but Lorenzo wanted his speakeasy to be different. He served what the other clubs served—pretzels and ham—but they were the best pretzels and ham you could get in the city, and that wasn’t an exaggeration. Lorenzo had to put in a lot of effort.

  “This is lovely. I’ve never been in a kitchen like this. You have three iceboxes. Why do you have so many?”

  “The largest one is for the bar. The other two are for the kitchen. If you have a special request, I can have it ordered and keep it in stock for you. What’s your poison of choice?”

  Evelyn looked down and said in a small voice, “I... I don’t drink.”

  “You’ve never had a drink?” Lorenzo suddenly noticed how young she looked. Her body was all woman, but her face was innocent.

  “Yes, I have. I just don’t like to.”

  Lorenzo stared at her for a moment. “May I ask how old you are?”

  “I’m twenty-two.” Evelyn’s gaze dropped to the floor and she wrung her hands together.

  “Baloney,” Lorenzo said, immediately regretting it.

  “Excuse me?” Evelyn’s eyes narrowed as she looked at him once again.

  “No, I mean...you look young, but you’re so sophisticated. How could you only be twenty-two?”

  “I guess you could say I’ve been through a lot. Seeing death ages you.”

  “What do you mean?” Lorenzo knew the expression—he’d seen his share of death, and knew exactly what she meant—but he wanted to know her, know her past.

  “It’s not important,” Evelyn said.

  “Watch out,” the cook said, grabbing a fire extinguisher.

  Evelyn looked at Lorenzo with concern etched in her features.

  “He’s an excellent cook—just a bit accident-prone.” Lorenzo laughed.

  Evelyn smiled. “I better get to the stage. I hear the band playing the song I requested to sing first.”

  With that, she turned and walked away from Lorenzo. Her dress swished as she headed toward the stage.

  Chapter Six

  Evelyn

  The club throbbed with all the writhing bodies on the dance floor. Evelyn didn’t have time to be nervous. The band was playing her song and she appreciated the excuse to put some distance between her and Lorenzo.

  She’d had to get away from him. Something about him had her wanting to be on the level with him, and she couldn’t afford that. How could she tell him that people who looked just like him had burned her home and killed her friends and family? She couldn’t trust him or anyone else.

  As she’d grown up, she hadn’t wanted to believe that race mattered, but since the massacre she had thought differently. Hatred was real, and it lived inside of people until it couldn’t be contained anymore.

  She hadn’t even heard anyone talking about what happened in Greenwood; it was like it hadn’t happened. He probably wouldn’t believe her anyway...

  That night still played in her mind whenever she closed her eyes. The smell of scorched flesh still haunted her. She woke in the middle of the night panting because the smell smothered her in her dreams. Her heart broke every time she thought of her mother and father, of how her refusal to pack and leave had led to their deaths. If they’d just gotten out sooner...

  A tear fell and Evelyn swiped it away. She wouldn’t allow anyone to get close to her. The pain of losing the people she loved most was still ripe, like it had happened only hours before. Lorenzo was an unknown danger that she had to be wary of or she would regret it.

  With more resolve than she’d thought possible, she vowed never to let Lorenzo or anyone else get too close.

  “We have a special singer coming to the stage tonight. She’s one of us now, so y’all give her a Blues Moon welcome.”

  Benny’s deep voice matched his bass guitar. It was deep and throaty, not completely unlike Lorenzo’s voice. But Lorenzo’s voice held that tone of authority, like he knew he was a big shot.

  The crowd cheered loudly and started chanting, “Blues Moon!”

  Evelyn took a deep breath, smoothed down her fringed dress and straightened her gloves before walking out into the spotlight. Once she had the microphone in her hand, her nerves eased. As the band picked up the tempo of the blues melody Evelyn opened her mind to memories—the way her home had smelled when the fires started, the way her dad had fallen silent after the first gunshots rang through the air.

  But the image that played on a loop in her head was of her mother’s shaking hands. Each image was like a knife in her stomach, and she let the pain come out in every note she sang.

  Time passed like she was watching a film. She saw people come to the dance floor in droves. Most of them stayed on the floor for the entire fifteen-song set. Evelyn hadn’t sung so many songs without a break before. She was exhausted.

  “We’ll be right back after a short break.”

  Music was piped through the speakers.

  When Evelyn turned to leave the stage Lorenzo was there, waiting. He held out his hand to her, and she allowed him to help her step over the leads of the instruments.

  “You’ve got the goods, Miss Laroque.”

  Lorenzo didn’t drop Evelyn’s hand, even though she didn’t need his help stepping over anything else. His large warm palm comforted her, made her feel at ease. Adrenaline from performing thrummed through her, but her hand in Lorenzo’s made her heart beat steadily. A calm came over her as he guided her through the back halls of the club.

  He led her to a small room across from the kitchen.

  “I’m making this your dressing room. You can come here when you want to get away from it all.”

  Stepping into the room, Evelyn smelled the flowers first, then she saw them. Bouquet after bouquet lined the wall and covered the table and small vanity.

  “Where did all of these come from?” She took a step into the room. Someone had placed plates of food and water on the table as well.

  “I had one of the cats who works for me pick some things up. We have to celebrate your first night.”

  “This is too much. I... I can’t accept all of this.”

  Evelyn stared at Lorenzo in shock. She couldn’t be swayed in her mission to keep everyone at a distance. She wouldn’t be swayed.

  Lorenzo’s expression was unreadable. Evelyn hoped she hadn’t offended him, but she didn’t know what to say. She’d never been given flowers—not even when she’d gone out on that date with the future dentist...the only date she’d ever been on.

  She didn’t know how to process Lorenzo’s generosity. It was counter to what she had been expecting—so much so, she didn’t think she could trust it, trust him.

  “Please, don’t think of it as a gift from me. This is how we welcome new members to our family. You’ve already won over the crowd out there. Now I will let you get some rest. You won’t sing again for about an hour. These are really late nights, so we try to make sure the band has plenty to eat and somewhere to put their head down to rest. That sofa is comfortable.” Lorenzo said as he backed out of the room. “And before I forget, your purse is in that safe in the corner.”

  Lorenzo dropped a small key in her palm. He turned and started to close the door behind himself.

  “Wait—don’t leave,” Evelyn said before she could stop herself.

  She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. It was like someone had taken over her body for a split second, allowing her desires to rise t
o the surface.

  “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Lorenzo’s soothing voice filled the room again as he stepped back into it.

  “No, I’m fine. I just wanted some company. I’m a little too excited to rest just yet. Would you stay for a moment?”

  Evelyn told herself that just because she was going to keep her distance from Lorenzo, that didn’t mean she couldn’t get to know him better. It was in her best interests to understand who she was dealing with. That was the best way to protect herself.

  “Yes, of course.” Lorenzo came all the way into the room, shutting the door behind him. He pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down.

  Being alone in the room with Lorenzo made Evelyn’s heart race. She decided sitting down was a great idea. She sat at the vanity, with her back straight and her eyes locked on the floor. She’d wanted his company—which was completely unsettling to her and counter to all the resolve she had to keep away from him. And now that she had him, she didn’t know what to do.

  “When did you decide you wanted to be a singer?” Lorenzo asked, moving his hair off his forehead.

  If Evelyn had been more familiar with men, she might have been able to tell what he was feeling. She thought he might be nervous, but that couldn’t be right. He was the one with so much experience.

  “I’ve wanted to be a singer for as long as I can remember. My first memories are of my aunt, singing at church. As soon as I could stand up on my own I was in the choir.”

  “It must feel amazing to realize a dream you’ve had for that long.”

  Evelyn thought about it. She hadn’t allowed herself to revel in the victory of the moment. Her mind had been consumed with doing what was best for her grandmother. She hadn’t really thought about how long she’d wanted this very thing, but Lorenzo had helped make her dream come true. She owed him for that—another unsettling revelation.

  “It is overwhelming, I guess. But I’m not here just because I love to sing. I have to be here.”

  Lorenzo sat forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, and stared into her with those gray-green eyes. “What do you mean, you have to be here?”

  The intensity in his eyes gave Evelyn pause. She’d said too much. His expression was hard to read, but concern flickered across his features like a storm cloud. It was brief, but Evelyn was sure of what she’d seen.

  She wanted to take back what she’d said, but there was something about the way Lorenzo looked at her that made her continue, even though she knew better than to be so open with this man.

  “I help take care of my grandmother. She’s behind on some bills, so my singing is going to help her retire. She’s a seamstress, but she’s been having balance issues and keeps having falls. I don’t know what else to do.”

  Lorenzo sat silently for a moment. Another fleeting sign of emotion shadowed his features and was gone just as quickly. Evelyn was amazed at this man’s ability to keep himself in check. She’d become extremely observant since her parents’ deaths—more out of a need to keep herself safe than any interest in people. If she hadn’t been so perceptive, she might have thought that Lorenzo was an emotionless robot.

  “I have a feeling that you’ve already determined what you need to do to ensure your grandmother is taken care of, but I will extend an offer of assistance if you ever deem it necessary. Just from the few interactions we’ve had I’ve learned that you can handle whatever is thrown your way. I admire that.”

  His lips quirked into a smile. Something about the expression made his handsome face even more irresistible. The way he looked at her, so intense and with absolute focus on her every move, overwhelmed her.

  The room grew hot all of a sudden, and Evelyn stood. “I think I will take your advice and rest now.”

  Evelyn walked toward the door and opened it. She hated to be so rude, but when he touched her, her body tingled, and heat thrummed just under her skin. She’d never experienced anything like it before.

  Lorenzo stood too, never taking his eyes off her. He walked to the door and paused in front of her. His lips parted, like he was going to say something, but he left without another word...so controlled. It made Evelyn envious of his ability to withhold so much of what he was thinking.

  She closed the door and fell against it, sighing. When she finally opened her eyes again, she took in the room properly for the first time. The many-hued floral spread, the beautiful pink tufted sofa and the three-mirror gold vanity with a floral chair in front of it all vied for her attention. The table was black, with gold embellishments. It looked older than everything else in the room, and Evelyn loved that. She ran her fingers along the designs. The detail was remarkable. Evelyn had never seen anything like it.

  She settled into the excitement that was thrumming through her body from being on stage for the first time as a lead singer. The band had played with her like they’d been together for years. The crowd had showed such enthusiasm. Her heart warmed at the memory of their reception of her. She knew that each time she performed—though previously it had only been in church—she poured her anger, pain and resentment into each song. Tonight had been no different.

  Deciding to relax, she grabbed a pretzel from the elaborate spread of food. She chose from the variety of sauces, mustards, cheese and sweet butter, and sat on the sofa. She kicked off her black heels to give her feet a break. She was used to wearing heels, but she’d been standing for nearly two hours straight.

  How had Lorenzo gotten all of this together in a matter of hours? Why had he gone out of his way for her—again?

  Her mother would be turning over in her grave if she knew how Evelyn was treating Lorenzo. Evelyn hadn’t shown it at the time, but she did appreciate what he’d done with the man from the Ku Klux Klan—even though he’d been a Neanderthal and all. She even enjoyed Lorenzo’s gentle touch, now that she’d had a moment to consider what it might mean, but she just didn’t want anything to get in the way of taking care of her grand.

  Evelyn searched the room. It was larger than her bedroom at home—not the room she’d had in Greenwood, that room had been more than twice this size—but her room in West Eden was pretty small. Her mind drifted back to that night, the burning, but she pushed it away. She would save that for the stage.

  Would she ever be able to put what happened behind her? That night trapped her in the past, and she didn’t know how to move past it to live the moments she had now fully. The pain lingered in her heart, not allowing room for anything else.

  A sharp knock at the door made her pause. She put the plate down and wiped her mouth. She’d taken off her gloves, and hurried to put them back on before opening the door. She checked her reflection in the mirror—her mother had taught her always to show her best self, every hair in place.

  She walked to the door hoping, to her surprise, to see Lorenzo’s strange-colored eyes that reminded her of ice-covered leaves.

  “Miss Laroque? I’m sorry to be a bother to you, but Mr. De Luca wanted to make sure you have everything you need. I’m Yalaina—another singer here. I sing on weeknights mostly. I’ve filled in here and there, when we were without someone for Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays, but I’m in school, and Lorenzo wants me to focus on my studies. Anyway, sorry to ramble. Is there anything I can get you?”

  Yalaina was young and quite gorgeous. Her long black curls hung down her back. Her eyes were brown with a hint of green and very large, framed by thick curled lashes. She and Evelyn were about the same height and build, but Yalaina’s complexion was just a shade darker than Evelyn’s. The bronzed brown tone seemed to glow gold in the dim light of the club.

  Evelyn was young herself, so she figured Yalaina couldn’t be much older than eighteen or nineteen. Evelyn wondered, much to her dismay, if Lorenzo was somehow romantically involved with this young woman. But Yalaina’s smile made Evelyn feel like she was talking to a good friend.

 
“I have everything I need, thank you. Please tell Mr. De Luca that I really appreciate all he has done to welcome me to the club. We should talk some time. I would love to get the ins and outs of the club from a fellow singer.”

  Evelyn tried to discern whether Yalaina was mad about being passed over for the lead singer role, but she couldn’t find any malice in Yalaina’s tone or body language.

  Yalaina nodded. “That would be nice. I won’t bother you now, but we’ll chat soon. I heard you sing. You’re amazing. I’m not surprised Lorenzo chose you.”

  Without another word, she left Evelyn standing in the doorway.

  The music still boomed through the speakers. Evelyn allowed the rhythm to help her relax as she closed the door and returned to the couch. She hummed absently, tasting the assortment of sweet pastries and fresh fruit. She’d just popped a grape in her mouth when she heard a commotion coming from the front of the club. It sounded like a stampede, and several people were yelling.

  Frozen, she wasn’t sure what to do. Should she wait until things calmed down before leaving her dressing room, or should she go see what was going on?

  There was only one answer.

  She would never cower again if she could help. She’d run once when faced with danger. She wouldn’t do that again.

  She picked her heels up, but didn’t put them on, and ran from the room.

  When she rounded the corner, several White men she hadn’t seen before were crowded at the front of the club by the door. One had a shotgun pointed at the crowd of scared patrons. Lorenzo stood in the center, between the crowd and the group of men who couldn’t have looked more out of place. Their overalls, mud-caked boots and unkempt hair were a stark contrast to the glamorous customers of Blues Moon.

  Lorenzo tilted his head from side to side, as if he was inspecting the men and truly puzzled by their actions. “Look, I don’t think you guys want to go down this road. It won’t end well for you.”

  His hands were at his sides. He stood in his tailored suit, voice calm, body relaxed, like he was talking to any other customer. But although his body language was casual, his voice was laced with danger.