A French Star in New York (The French Girl Series Book 2)

by Anna Adams

  “True love?” Maude laughed. “They’ve been together for what? Three weeks.”

  Jazmine and Cynthia glanced at each other but didn’t answer.

  “What is it?”

  “Matt seems to like her,” Cynthia explained, occupying her hands with Jazmine’s clothes. She picked them up and folded them neatly on her bed.

  “Knowing Matt, that’s not going to last,” Jazmine added. “I mean, you have nothing to envy_—_”

  “—_Envy? I don’t feel the slightest envy. In fact, I don’t feel anything at all. Must be one of the perks of seeing my foster mother die in front of my eyes, after she begged me for a word of forgiveness I couldn’t bring myself to give.”

  “I shouldn’t have left that magazine lying around,” Jazmine mumbled. She grabbed it and threw it in the trash bin.

  “I’m sorry, Jaz.” She held her hand to her burning forehead. She needed rest. She sat on her bed, jet lag drumming in her dysfunctional brain. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken harshly.”

  “It’s okay, Maude,” Cynthia sat next to her and gave her a hug.

  “Speak for yourself! You’re not the one getting yelled at.”

  “You deserve it! Doesn’t she deserve it, Maude? For breaking up with Leonardo. It seems he didn’t take it too well either. Turn to page ten.” She got up, drew the magazine out of the trash bin, opened it to page ten, and handed it to Maude.

  A close-up portrait of Jason Taylor with red eyes sprang from the magazine.

  “Our favorite vampire heartbroken after break up,” Maude read. “Oh Jaz! You’ve ruined him.”

  “I have not. Look at the background. See the cameras, and set. He was filming a scene for Vampire Love. You’d think they’d mention that.”

  Maude nodded knowingly. They would never bother with specifics. She’d had enough experience with these magazines to know they thrived on duplicity.

  “I’ll soon be officially single, so maybe I’ve got a shot with Leonardo.”

  “Not if you call him Leonardo, you won’t. He hates that.”

  “Wait, you’ll be officially single?” Cynthia asked.

  “I’m sick of this whole ordeal with Thomas. I’m going to talk to Alan and find a way to end this.”

  *****

  A packed theater. An orchestra in the pit. Musicians tuning their violins simultaneously. Harried newcomers searching for their seats. Ushers indicating rows.

  And behind the scenes, Ms. Tragent threatened to fire the makeup artist, demanded her glass of wine, thundered over the incompetence that surrounded her. But when she greeted her fashionable friends who’d flown from France to see her, she was all smiles.

  Everything was going as planned.

  Maude had been here before. In the same place. She’d sat in this chair. She’d faced the same mirror.

  The lyrics running through her head had been different. And one huge difference: Mrs. Ruchet would not call her tonight to rattle her, to sneer and tell her she was worthless.

  She looked like a Princess of the Nile draped in a white flowing sheath dress, leather sandals, and golden bracelets at her arm.

  Tonight was all about Amneris. And Aida.

  Now if she could just avoid Matt and Rebecca, everything would be perfect.

  But Maude wasn’t in luck. The first people she bumped into on her way out of her dressing room were Matt and Rebecca. They were talking and appeared to be entirely engrossed in their conversation. She thought she could pass by without them seeing her.

  “Maude!” Rebecca called out. “I’m so glad you’re here. My nerves are in a bundle, and Matt here isn’t very comforting.”

  “At least he’s here,” Maude answered, avoiding Matt’s face. He’d arrived late at her performance the year before.

  Ms. Tragent called Rebecca with a sharp voice.

  “Gotta go. I’ll be right back. Stay here you two.” She kissed Matt with a quick kiss on the lips and hurried away.

  She and Matt looked at each in uncomfortable silence. Maude couldn’t stand it and was coming up with a good excuse to leave when Matt spoke.

  “I heard about Mrs. Ruchet’s death. I’m sorry you had to go back to Carvin. I know it must have been hard for you.”

  “It’s fine,” Maude answered curtly. When would Tragent call them? She checked the time on her wrist but, of course, had taken it off and replaced it with a glimmering bracelet. “I can manage. I won’t break down in your arms like last year when I learned about my parents’ deaths. Your shirt is safe if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  A pained expression struck Matt’s face.

  “I’m not worried.”

  “You’ll probably find out all about Ruchet’s death in Lexie’s tell-all book anyway if you’re really curious.”

  “Lexie’s still writing her book?” Matt hid his shock, but Maude avoided looking at him altogether.

  “She sure is. I’ll scribble an autograph on your copy if you like.”

  Rebecca came back to them, out of breath.

  “Ms. Tragent is driving me crazy. She wanted me to say hello to some old acquaintances from my old school. Matt, you’re leaving?” Rebecca tugged his arm.

  “Yeah,” he answered distractedly. “I’ve got to make a phone call.” He moved to leave, but she held him back and dropped a kiss on his lips. Maude would’ve averted her eyes, but she was too late.

  Matt regained his composure but threw an embarrassed glance towards Maude.

  “See you later.” He walked away with unease, punching in numbers furiously on his phone.

  “Isn’t he sweet?” Rebecca pulled Maude in a corner and whispered. “I think tonight will be the night.”

  Maude’s heart stopped. She couldn’t have heard what she thought she’d heard.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’m going to ask him to spend the night, silly! I’m so happy. I’ll be a wonderful Aida. Like her I’ve found my Radamès. But you’re nothing like Amneris, thank goodness.”

  Maude wasn’t so sure. She left Rebecca before she could say another word and locked herself in her dressing room. Her heart dropped to her stomach. How foolish she’d been to drive him away. And for a fake relationship that only existed for the paparazzi. Matt and Rebecca’s relationship was real. More so than the single kiss they’d shared last year! She’d given it all up because of crazy rumors with no truth to them.

  She’d introduced Rebecca to her lifelong crush and now they were happy and she was miserable. If she held their happiness between her fingers at that instant, she’d crush it to pieces.

  That’s when she understood. She understood how Amneris felt. It was frightening.

  “Maude, it’s time,” Rebecca called.

  She was ready.

  That evening Maude left the dressing room, Amneris entered the stage.

  Amneris finds a confidante in Aida. She’s taken her as a slave but has treated her with kindness and dignity. Why was Radamès distant? She was the king’s daughter, a princess dressed in fine cloth, powder, and jewels. She was the most powerful woman in Egypt. He couldn’t love another.

  Was that a fleeting glance between Radamès and Aida?

  Could he love another? Could he love Aida?

  She’d never have imagined Radamès would fall in love with a slave. And Aida, could she betray her friendship so?

  Amneris was determined to find out.

  Radamès comes back from the battlefield, he’s a hero. His brilliant military skills have defeated the Ethiopians once more.

  But she must find out the truth regarding Aida’s feelings.

  In the privacy of her chambers, she announces to Aida the terrible news: Radamès has succumbed on the battlefield. All she needs is a little nudge of encouragement. Aida trusts her, her friend, Pharaoh’s daughter. She avows her love. She too loves Radamès. Amneris is consumed with hatred and jealousy.

  Yes, you love him! But I also love him!

  Do you understand?

/>   I, the daughter of the Pharaohs, am your rival.

  The crowd shudders at Amneris’ cries for revenge. Back arched, disfigured with contempt, Maude intimidates, Amneris threatens. She will get revenge even if it means they must die. Death is a small price to pay.

  I am arbiter of your fate,

  A fury of hate and vengeance rages in my heart

  Staccato rhythms of hatred stroke the audience like hammers as death sentences are decreed, as Amneris marches, orders, plots. Unblinking, Nathan Leopold was trapped with amazement he hadn’t felt in years. Rebecca as Aida attempts to flee her fate but cannot.

  Aida and Radamès die together, bound by love, bound by Amneris’ hate. But hate isn’t all she feels. Intense regret overcomes her as she watches the man she loves die. He’d rather die with Aida than live with Amneris.

  She’s alone.

  The curtain falls for the last time.

  Silence fills the mesmerized audience, then applause shatters the silence.

  The curtain rises again, displaying the performers. They are mere mortals once more.

  Each performer takes its turn on the stage. The least important characters first, then gradually the main characters stream to the stage under joyful applause. Only three left.

  Maude walks on the stage. She leaves Amneris behind, leaves Egypt behind, exhausted by the hatred that drained her. But the crowd sees only Amneris. Thunderous applause explodes from every balcony, every seat flaps back, closed, as one by one, they all rise.

  Maude brings her hand to her lips in dismay. Is she the one they’re applauding? She’s pretty sure her heart can’t clap that hard in her chest, can’t cover the beautiful cacophonic music that is applause.

  Oh, if her parents could see her now!

  But James, Victoria, Cynthia, Jazmine, Ben were alive with her. She wasn’t alone.

  When Nathan and Rebecca came out, there was still applause, but it was slightly lighter than Maude’s had been.

  Rebecca’s smile tightened but remained in place for her audience.

  When they crowd relinquished its heroes for the night, Maude ran off. But was stopped by Ms. Tragent.

  “Ms. Tragent! Wasn’t it great? Wasn’t it grand?”

  “Let others praise you, Maude. Never do it yourself.” Her voice was cold, but her eyes shone like Maude had never seen. “There is always room for improvement.”

  But Maude barely listened as singers hurried all around her.

  “We’ll have to talk, Maude.”

  “About what?” What had she done now?

  “Not now. Later when you’ve come down from that high cloud you’re riding.”

  “It’s a cloud of cotton candy, Ms. Tragent. And Alan never suspected.”

  Ms. Tragent’s mouth twitched, but she turned and went to Rebecca and Nathan before Maude could see how content she was.

  Still in her Egyptian costume, Maude left the backstage and searched for Matt. She ignored all the greetings and well-wishing until she found him, leaning against a seat near the orchestra pit.

  Matt looked surprised as she neared him, but surprise left place for pleasure. He held a bouquet of yellow roses.

  “Your performance was breathtaking,” he congratulated. “Breathtaking doesn’t even cut it.” His eyes overflowed with honest admiration. He pulled a single rose from the bouquet and handed it to her. She accepted it, lowered her head, but lifted it again bravely.

  “I’m sorry. About before, I was awful. I was . . . ” she hesitated, but decided honesty was the only way to go. “I was eaten up with jealousy, and I want you to know I’m not anymore. I guess the opera was cathartic because I got rid of the dreadful feeling, and now I can tell you in all honesty that I’m happy for you. And I want you to be happy with Rebecca. She’s an awesome friend, a talented singer, and a good person. I don’t want to be Amneris. It’s human to be jealous, a bit, but I can’t be Amneris and I certainly cannot be Marie-Antoinette Ruchet. What she did . . . I can’t.” Maude took a deep breath. “I’m ready to let you go, just as you have let me go.”

  Matt appeared overwhelmed with the flow of words that came out Maude’s mouth. At the end, he acquiesced gravely.

  “All right, Maude. I appreciate your honesty. I’m glad we could clear the air.” He was about to add something, then decided against it. “There’s Rebecca right now.” He greeted Rebecca as she arrived.

  “Great job!” He wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder.

  “Is that for me?” She pointed toward the bouquet. “Oh right, here.” He handed the bouquet with charming clumsiness and didn’t notice Rebecca’s eyes were on the single yellow rose Maude held.

  “Thanks, but I think everyone agrees our French friend was the star tonight.” She fought to smile, but barely succeeded. She took a deep breath and smiled a real smile. “Maude, I’m proud of you,” she said with pure truthfulness. Rebecca hugged Maude, crushing the rose in her hand.

  “I think we should let Maude enjoy her evening.”

  Matt agreed, and they turned to leave.

  Maude pressed her nose to her single yellow rose. Had he remembered? She shook her head decidedly. It was plain to see how engrossed he was with Rebecca to give her rose any romantic meaning.

  Maude’s gaze lingered on their departure but not too long because she was quickly snatched by a swarm of admirers.

  Chapter 13

  “Alan, have you forgotten our pact? You were supposed to block the publication of Lexie’s book.”

  Matt stormed into Alan’s office, slamming the door behind him.

  “I wanted to until I realized it wasn’t in my best interest.”

  “And a pack of lies is? It’ll sully Maude’s reputation.”

  “Why should you care? Aren’t you madly in love with your opera princess?”

  “We had a deal,” Matt replied, waving off Alan’s digressions.

  “The book won’t be published. Maude will have to go to court, but I’m sure she’ll succeed with the right kind of lawyer. But the publicity, ahh,” he blew an imaginary kiss into the air. “Everyone will want to know what’s in it. Just in time for the launch of her international career, too.”

  “You’re the worst kind of scum,” Matt jeered.

  “You do know there is another way for you to get Lexie to drop this book. It would require a small sacrifice on your part.”

  “I don’t trust you, Alan. No way am I entering another contract with you.”

  “It wouldn’t be with me. Haven’t you ever heard the French proverb that says it’s better to speak to God than to his saints? You must know that saying, very French, very Catholic. Aren’t all of you French folk Catholics? But I digress yet again. You do know Lexie’s always wanted to write a book about you. All that drama you refuse to talk about: your mom’s death, your estranged father. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to drop Maude’s story if you offered yours instead.”

  “You disgust me!” Matt banged his fist on the table and papers flew in the air before falling to the floor. “I’m out of here.”

  “Don’t forget you’re still under contract with Soulville for your next album.”

  Matt sent his fist flying in the air, opened the door with a bang and walked out. His departure was soon followed by Maude’s equally tempestuous entry.

  “Alan, we need to talk.” Maude walked into Alan’s office without knocking.

  “Damn right we need to talk. No, I talk, you listen. What’s this I hear about you singing in an opera? New York Times, Washington Post, everybody’s talking about it,” he stacked the newspapers on his desk as he enumerated them one by one.

  “I know. And they loved me.”

  “You’re a pop star! No classical! This year I’d forbidden it, and you went behind my back.”

  “And you went behind my back telling the press I was dating Thomas. I played along, but I’m done. I am done.” Her voice shook, but her gaze didn’t waver.

  “No, you’re not. We’re about to
launch your international career, and we need all the marketing tools at our disposal.”

  “Forget it, Maude, you won’t reason him.” Cynthia entered the office with a stack of papers she held like a weapon.

  She threw them on Alan’s desk.

  “Alan, you’re done.”

  “What’s this?” He rummaged through the pages, his face whitening the more he read.

  “You know what it is. Now, we could take you to court and believe me, my family is angry enough to do so. Or you can leave quietly.”

  “How did you get this?

  “In your son’s files. Your illegal proceedings are over. I want my father reinstated as CEO by the end of the month.”

  “No, no. I . . . ”

  Maude’s gaze swung from Cynthia’s face of steel to Alan’s disintegrating discomfiture.

  “Are we really rid of him, Cynth?”

  “We finally are, Maude. We finally are.”

  Chapter 14

  Harriet and Peter said yes to each other on a sunny Sunday afternoon in June. The sky broke out in thunder, rain, hail, and snow. Birds stopped singing and crashed to the granite ground. In this apocalyptic scenery, cars stopped driving, water turned to blood and grasshoppers swarmed over New York City.

  It certainly seemed that way to the Baldwins. With so many artists in a family, melodramatic exaggeration was to be expected from time to time.

  But for the rest of the world, the Blue Marble continued its habitual course around the sun.

  The reception was sumptuous as anything else the Williams’ organized. For their only daughter’s long-awaited nuptials, the Williams had booked the Plaza. The entire Baldwin-Williams clan was present, as were the powerful Longarms and Peter’s new political friends.

  Trey and Jordan found them to be a tedious bunch, but their interest was piqued when they were introduced to two of Peter’s gorgeous cousins. Aunt Pearl stayed glued to her son the entire day, wanting to spend each moment with him before his departure for the French Caribbean islands. Elder Williams debated with Elder Longarm on the state of modern politics in what started out as a pleasant conversation, but quickly turned acrimonious with Elder Williams threatening Elder Longarm to stick his ivory cane in a place Harriet could not bring herself to repeat.