Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection

by Parker, Kylie

“I got something in mind.” She winked at him. “It’s either Bb major or F minor. I’m debating. But, you must say ‘yes’, James. I can’t write music without knowing if you’ll sing it with me or not.”

  “We can rehearse it. We’ll do both versions; we’ll just choose the one that sounds best.” A huge grin lit her face, upon hearing his suggestion. In fact, Michelle was so thrilled that she leaned over him further and put her arms around his upper back.

  “Yes!” She cheered. “Thank you so much! This is going to be incredible!”

  “Hold your horses.” He resumed his bossy tone, pushing her back. “We have a lot of work to do. I suggest you get to it.”

  29

  James and Michelle presented her idea to Howard Peterson, later that day. He objected to it at first; he believed that people wouldn’t accept her total transformation so quickly. He had been clear from the very beginning: “Take your time,” he had said. Peterson was unwilling to take any chances, until Michelle showed him James’ lyrics and played a short introduction to the song on the piano. The record company CEO was mesmerized and said ‘yes’ to them immediately.

  James’ plans of staying in the Big Apple for only a week were overthrown and swept away. Song composition is always a long, painstaking process and this one was no exception. He had to be in New York the entire time; his cabin was just too far for him to drive back and forth to Slide Mountain. So, he decided to stay in a hotel for as long as it took for them to finish writing the song.

  For the first time ever, though, James had no problem with living in the city. The whole process of composing the song made him feel alive, more creative and even more artistic. He didn’t mind the long hours that he and Michelle had to put in every day. Her attitude helped him. Once again, she was a great professional: not missing a single appointment; even showing up early at the recording studio; always eager to get started. She seemed hungry for success: constantly providing her input; always trying to pinpoint small details she believed to be important – like the length of the introduction. So she showed, as James would soon discover, that she was much more talented than the brainless dancer he initially thought she was.

  Ten days later, Michelle had come up with the music. James started playing it and, just as he expected, a woman singing a woman’s name did sound very strange indeed. He didn’t even finish it and agreed with Michelle to sing Olivia’s name. They had to make a small alteration to the lyrics as well: Instead of “A shadow of the man”, she would sing “Shadow of the one”. By the time they finished, they had composed a heartbreaking piano ballad that brought tears to their eyes.

  Of course, working on the lyrics that had been inspired by his breakup with Olivia, did not allow him to forget about her. The fact that he had to say her name dozens of times on a daily basis added to his already profound pain. James struggled to hold back his tears on rehearsals, remembering their happy times together. At night, after the echoes of the piano notes had faded, the last time he saw her would replay in his mind, serving as a reminder of how painful her betrayal had been. All alone in a dark hotel room, he would not fight back the tears anymore, wishing that he had never opened up to her. James would stay up late: would hold his acoustic guitar in his arms; would play the songs they had played on the night he met her. The outcome was almost always the same: he would cry in sobs, knowing deep down that their meeting was nothing more than the first episode in a charade.

  Four days later, just after the recording was complete, Peterson announced to them that the company was not going to give the song to any radio stations for the time being. Nor were they going to make a video of it just yet. Instead, Michelle was going to promote it with a live performance at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. At first, she rejected their plan, stating that a 650-person capacity venue was just a little too small. But then, Peterson informed them that it would be broadcast live over the internet as well. Michelle changed her mind and gladly agreed to it. She was given permission to talk about it on Twitter, but Howard Peterson requested that she not to respond to any comments, whether they were positive or negative.

  @MADAMS: Monday, February 6, Music Hall of Williamsburg. Forget about the Michelle you knew. Time for something real.”

  Unsurprisingly, most of her followers didn’t believe her. They thought that she was going to dance around as usual. Some went on to mock her, whereas a few of them commended her on her decision to stop singing nonsense.

  In spite of his gut-wrenching pain, James had to take his mind off Olivia, and practice for the occasion. He had never performed live, and the event was scheduled in a week. So, he spent hours and hours at the piano, memorizing every chord change, humming the lyrics, until his fingers hurt.

  Five days before the venue performance, James sent a letter and three invitations to Helen and her parents. He didn’t want the people who had been so good to him to think of him as a ghost. Michelle’s concert would be an ideal chance for him to show them who he actually was.

  “Dear Helen,

  I’m sorry for disappearing. I’ve been very busy. If you want to know more about me, bring your parents and come over to the Music Hall of Williamsburg next Monday. You’ll find the address on the invitations. I’ll be really disappointed if you don’t make it.

  Love,

  James”

  30

  The big night came and James was so tense that he could not stop pacing up and down a small room in the backstage area of the music hall. Rick appeared to be quite amused by his friend’s nervousness, teasing him every now and then. James was still having second thoughts about singing in public, but he owed it to Michelle to give it his best, just this once. In the three weeks they had spent working together, she had managed to change his opinion about her entirely. She relied on him; the last thing he wanted was to let her down.

  “Alright,” Rick stated. “You need to stop. You’re making me dizzy.”

  “I can’t help it.” James groaned, picking up a large, black hat from the dresser. “Are you sure this is going to hide my face?”

  “You can always wear a trash bag.” Rick teased, smiling up at him. Yet, James’ glare wiped the smile off of his face.

  “I am not amused.” He grumbled.

  “Just relax, man.” Rick used a lazy tone. “It’s going to be alright.”

  “What’s the attendance?” James inquired with a stiff voice.

  “We have a full house,” Rick’s response was sharp. “There’re some people waiting outside, too.”

  At that moment, a knock on the door grabbed their attention.

  “It’s time.” James recognized Michelle’s voice. He cast one last glance at Rick and passed him by, as adrenaline rushed through his veins. The light-purple, ankle-long dress she had on drew his gaze.

  “You look wonderful.” He complimented, joining her on the corridor. Michelle did not verbalize. She cupped his face in both of her hands, tilted her head up and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Thank you.” She whispered, looking up into his eyes. “You’re the best mentor I’ve ever had. You’re all heart, James.”

  “You made my job a lot easier.” James spoke in a soft voice, as she leaned back.

  “Now…” She took a deep breath. “Let’s show them how it’s done. Are you ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He smiled. Michelle returned the smile, before starting down the narrow corridor that led to the stage. By now, his heart was beating so fast that he could actually hear it.

  “This is for Michelle; for the three weeks we spent working together.” He thought to himself, putting his hat on, as the exit got closer. The lights were dimmed, as Michelle walked on stage. A round of polite applause followed, as James locked his gaze down at the piano, too anxious to risk a glance at the crowd. Seating himself, he sucked in a deep, cleansing breath, as a massive spotlight was pointed down on her.

  “Good evening everyone.” She spoke through her microphone. “This song is called ‘Olivia’. I hope you
enjoy it. Three, two, one…”

  James closed his eyes and put his hands on the piano keys, as Olivia’s smiling image flashed through his mind. The slow, melodic introduction filled the hall, sending shivers down his spine, just before Michelle’s deep, smoky voice joined in. Once more, James struggled to keep tears out of his eyes. He bit his lower lip, as melodious lyrics exploded out of her mouth. With her eyes closed, Michelle sang with passion and presence, gripping her microphone with both hands. Her powerful, sensual voice rocked the hall, as she lost herself in the magic of the song. Determined not to fail her, James sang Olivia’s name, the echoes of his loud, manly voice resounding around the hall…

  Was it a dream – Was it a lie

  An illusion of a life so far away

  A whisper of fate – A breathless sigh

  Or a tiny spark in my lightless day

  Frozen inside my love you found me

  Broken heart in a world of pain

  Shadow of the one I used to be

  A shattered wolf, howling in the rain

  Olivia, my heart’s on fire

  Olivia calls out my name

  Olivia, my burning desire

  Olivia, my dying flame

  Your eyes like a river they flowed

  Love so strong in my aching soul

  Blinded by greed this love you sold

  Bound by lust – acting a role

  Lying on the snow my heart is bleeding

  Scent of betrayal lingers in the air

  Pale moon through the trees is peeking

  This lonely night is my cross to bear

  Olivia, my heart’s on fire

  Olivia calls out my name

  Olivia, my burning desire

  Olivia, my dying flame

  James pressed on the keys with passion for the outro, as Michelle’s voice lingered in the air. The crowd did not wait for him to play the last few chords. Seconds before the end of the ballad, most of the six hundred people in the audience rose from their seats and burst into a long, warm round of applause. Michelle slowly opened her eyes and looked out into the ecstatic crowd, with a blissful smile on her beautiful face. She looked down at him, over her right shoulder.

  “Thank you,” She silently mouthed to him. James nodded to her, but he could not stay there any longer. He was so overcome by emotion that his hands were shaking and he was almost out of breath. Jumping from his seat, he flipped around, staring down at the floor, desperate to go back to the backstage area.

  “It’s over. Thank God it’s over… Now I know what stage fright feels like. I thought I was going to suffocate out there. You don’t have to thank me, Michelle. You did most of the work. You did great. The whole world will be talking about you tomorrow…”

  James might have been stressed, but he couldn’t deny to himself that he had done precisely what Michelle needed. He had not let her down. Despite his emotional state, he kept his cool and did not collapse. Still, the night had taken such a toll on him that he needed a break. To his frustration though, he would have to wait for her to talk to the press and sign autographs, before he could discuss it with her. It would take her hours and he didn’t want to wait that long. In his haste to leave however, he dropped his sheet music. Dozens of papers were scattered all over the floor. Just when he bent down, a pair of black, high heels came into view. He had seen them before. Tension tightened the back of his neck, as he looked up. It was Olivia.

  “I assume you wrote this for me,” she said in her broken sweet voice as their gazes met.

  “What are you doing here, Olivia?” He wondered, his eyes softening with sorrow.

  “That’s a beautiful song.” Olivia whispered, blinking back tears. “You did really great out there.”

  “Thanks.” James heaved a deep sigh. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

  “I came here to ask you a favor.” She went on, as a tear streamed down her cheek. “Think about what I did, when we were together. The things I said to you, my reactions, the way I touched you, the way I looked at you and…” She faltered. “If you still think I was fake, think about this.” Olivia reached both arms towards him and took his right hand into her palms. She led it to her heart, gazing up into his watery eyes. It was racing. “No one can fake this.” Another whisper fled her lips, as more tears spilled from her eyes.

  Speechless, James felt her heartbeat, watching as her tears soaked her quivering lips. Olivia let go of his hand and took another short step towards him.

  “One last thing,” she sniffled, putting her right hand on his cheek. “You know George Michael’s ‘Careless Whisper’, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded. “Why?”

  “Please listen to it, one more time,” she said, her voice thick with emotion as she caressed his skin. “Maybe you’ll understand how I feel. Goodnight.”

  Stunned by Olivia’s unexpected visit and her words, James found himself in a dilemma: get back together with her or let her go? He had missed her; and it was more than clear to him that whatever they had could not be forgotten, especially in less than a month. He was still in love with her, but he was unable to trust her again. At any rate, James was in no condition to think about their relationship. He was exhausted and in need of some well-deserved rest. His comfortable hotel bed beckoned; he couldn’t wait to take a shower and get some sleep.

  Stepping out of the elevator in the underground parking lot of the music hall, he heard a loud, banging noise and felt a tremendous amount of pain on the back of his head. The world around him instantly darkened. James dropped to the floor on his chest, senseless…

  31

  Two female voices woke him from his deep sleep. One of them sounded somewhat familiar. He could not hear them so well, yet he was able to recognize it in seconds: it belonged to Michelle. Gradually, they picked up volume, as he sensed the pain in his head growing stronger by the second. Another feeling made his stomach chill with fear. His hands were tied behind his back and his ankles were tied to a chair. James opened his drowsy eyes to slits, witnessing a very intense argument: Michelle, screaming at a middle-aged woman. The high ceiling and the luxurious interior left him with no doubt: he was back in Michelle’s living room.

  “I never agreed to this!” she screamed at the stranger, pointing at James. “Let him go!”

  “Go get some sleep, my dear,” the elderly woman smirked. “You look like you could use it.”

  “Michelle…” James whispered. “What is this? What am I doing here?”

  “Rise and shine!” The stranger put some force in her nasal voice, turning her attention to him as Michelle squeezed her lips. “How nice it is of you to join us, Mr. Farrell.”

  “How do you know my name?” He squinted at her. “Who are you?”

  “Maureen Harden.” She replied, staring down at him with a smug smile on her face. “Diana Ellis’s mother; her real mother: and I’m going to make you pay for what you did to my little girl, you son of a bitch!”

  “Oh, God…” James gave an exasperated huff. “She was adopted?”

  “That’s right.” Maureen said with a nod.

  “I didn’t do anything to Diana.” He spoke, his voice becoming fainter. “It was an accident.”

  “An accident which you caused!” she cried, pointing at him as her voice echoed back off the walls of the living room.

  “She was fucking my best friend!” James stentorian voice rumbled like thunder. “I didn’t force them to run after me!”

  “She’s sweet, isn’t she?” Maureen cast a rapt glance at Michelle:. “great voice; killer body; but just a pawn. Just like your sweetheart. You see, I used them both to get to you. You really must be something, Mr. Farrell. Olivia ended up falling for you, and after Michelle met you, she didn’t want to proceed with the plan.”

  “No…” A gasp of despair left his lips, as he dropped his gaze from her intense stare. “What plan?”

  “Pinning Thomas’ murder on you didn’t work. I was impressed by your sweethear
t’s performance, though. She looked very committed to her role. I thought she was acting, waiting for further instruction. But, I had other plans for her. I gave her a six-figure job in Washington: Public Relations Expert in ‘Atlas’ Records. She didn’t take it; she didn’t want to leave you.” James’ eyes became black with shock. He glanced at Michelle, disbelief written all over his face. “This sweet-ass girl here was supposed to seduce you and then accuse you of sexually assaulting her. But, she wouldn’t do it. I offered her more money. She said ‘no’. She wanted to become a singer. I couldn’t allow that.”

  Once again, James couldn’t believe his ears. Unable to force another word out of his throat, he stared up at Michelle, who had already dropped her head into her hands and burst into loud, wailing sobs.

  “Don’t look at her!” Maureen shouted, “Look at me!”

  “You said Diana was your daughter.” James spoke in a wobbly voice. “Where have you been all this time?”

  Maureen tore her gaze away from him, squeezing her lips.

  “I was in Europe,” she sighed. “I had to give her up. I was just nineteen when I had her.”

  “Let me go, Maureen.” James put a little force in his voice. “You’ve caused enough pain.”

  “I don’t think so.” Maureen replied in a stiff tone as she returned her gaze to his face. Before he knew it, she had pulled a gun out of the inside pocket of her coat, and had it pointed down at him. “This is for my baby, you bastard.”

  “No!” Michelle cried, lunging towards her. With her left hand, she pushed Maureen’s arm to the right, just before the gun went off. The loud bang echoed in the living room, as a bullet hissed past James’ ear. Maureen landed hard onto her right side, banging her head against the floor. Her gun slipped through her fingers and scraped across the floor. Michelle landed flat and hard on her chest. Quickly rolling onto her back, she sat bolt upright, with her gaze locked on Maureen. Relief flashed through James’ eyes, as he realized that Maureen had been knocked unconsciousness. At that very moment, a large man barged into the living room. Michelle whipped her head right and grabbed the gun from the floor.