“In here,” Sadie said, catching the other angel by the arm and dragging her into an exclusive boutique. “I think it’d be nice—since we’re here—to dress according to the current mode so we can move around freely and not worry if somebody sees us.”
Pricilla hauled back her arm and turned toward the door. “No and no again, Sadie. You just want to dress up in something slinky and vamp around. I know you.”
Sadie stood in the middle of the boutique with her hands on her hips, a stubborn tilt to her chin. “When was the last time you got a chance ta get outta that garb? Huh?”
“This is not a garb,” Pricilla answered. “It’s my angel clothing. I see you got a new gown. It looks very nice, I must say. Of course,” she looked down at her fingernails, “anything would look better than the old dress you had.”
“Ouch!” Sadie moved aside as a woman wheeled a clothing cart over her toe. “It would be better, Miss Prissy, if we were seen. That woman almost cut my toes off.”
“Well,” Pricilla eyed the array of pretty garments, her lips pursed. “It’s not allowed, so you might as well forget it. And do be careful where you stand,” she added as the woman pushed the clothing rack back again, bumping Sadie into Pricilla.
“Shoot. Just when I thought things were lookin’ up,” Sadie pouted as she gave one last, lingering glance at the boutique. “Oh well, we probably couldn’t find nothin’ that would hide those stupid wings of yours anyhow.”
“Stop being rude and let’s get moving. There’s an elevator going up right over there!”
* * * *
Olivia was shaking by the time she reached her room. She’d seen shadowy figures dressed in white getting on the elevator next to hers. Two women who were almost transparent. Heading for the courtesy bar, she pulled out a small bottle of Beefeaters, splashed it over ice and swallowed half in one gulp. The gin burned all the way down and she choked, but managed not to spit it out. Unaccustomed as she was to alcohol, she felt the liquor flame through her body. Well, this was one time she needed a drink. Badly.
She thought about the two strange looking females who’d boarded the elevator next to her. Were they the same creatures Nathan had seen behind the stage? She didn’t know, and she sure wasn’t going to tell anyone about it. She’d seen the look on Harry’s face when Nathan had thought he’d seen them.
Was there something in the water here that made people see things that weren’t there? Or was she having a sort of sympathetic hallucination? Sympathetic because Nathan was seeing things. He sees everything but me. I might as well be invisible. Except when I’m singing—he pays attention then. I’ve seen it in his eyes, even though he tries to hide it.
She’d always been attracted to the tall, brooding sax player—however, she kept her distance because he was so surly with her. For once she’d like to catch that man in a good mood. She’d like to see admiration, interest, desire in his eyes.
Six weeks ago she’d had enough. Couldn’t bear being near him and treated like a piece of furniture any longer. Harry had tried to persuade her to stay, but she’d found a job in Ventura singing in a small exclusive club. It’d been a hellacious six weeks, feeling like an idiot for running off. Being lonely and missing the camaraderie with the musicians in Nathan’s group. Missing Nathan. Despite his rotten treatment of her, she’d missed him. That’s why, when Harry tracked her down and pleaded with her to rejoin the ensemble for this Tahoe gig she’d accepted eagerly. Not only a chance to see and be seen by practically every important person in the music industry, but a chance to be close to Nathan—if only for a little while.
Slumped on the bed, she noticed a piece of paper slipped under her door. Almost too tired to get up and retrieve it, she finally forced herself across the room, and read the hastily scrawled note with a confused frown.
A big blue moon is on the way. ‘Twill be here in another day. Make a wish upon the moon and you’ll find it granted very soon.
She turned the note over—no signature. Shrugging it off as a practical joke from one of the musicians, she balled it up and threw it in the waste basket and went to prepare for bed.
* * * *
Nathan stretched out on the bed, not even bothering to undress. He knew he’d seen two women in strange costumes standing at the back of the stage. One of them had even waved at him, making sexy little gestures and batting her eyelashes. Why hadn’t Harry and Olivia seen them? Was he going nuts? Closing his eyes, he tried to put the image of the strange ladies out of his mind, but they wouldn’t go away. When he opened his eyes again, they were standing in his room, staring at him. Nathan jumped off the bed and stalked toward them.
“Who are you? How’d you get in here?”
“I’m Pricilla,” the shorter one said with a beatific smile. “How are you, Nathan?”
“I’m fine,” he answered distractedly. He looked at the taller angel who was batting her eyelashes at him. Again. “Who are you? And how do you know my name?”
“I’m Sadie.” She posed with one hip thrust forward and one hand fluffing her henna-red hair. “And I think you’re fine, too, big boy. And we know your name because—”
“Sadie! Hush up.” The shorter angel seemed irritated. Nathan watched as she pointed her middle finger at the one called Sadie. Then watched Sadie stick her tongue out and wiggle her butt.
“So. What do you want? And how’d you get in here?” Nathan badly wanted a drink—he was talking to a couple of strange broads who occasionally appeared a little transparent.
“We came through the wall,” Sadie answered, earning herself another disapproving look from the short angel. “And before that, we came by deluxe cloud.”
“Hush!” The one called Pricilla shook her middle finger again. “You’re going to get zapped if you don’t mind me. I’ll do the talking.”
“Well, there’s no sense lyin’ to the dude. Can’t you see he’s in shock?” The redhead looked at Nathan and grinned. “Right? I mean, am I right or what? You look like you seen a ghost. But we’re not ghosts … we’re angels.”
“You’re not supposed to tell him!”
“Well, duh. Look how we’re dressed.”
“Uh … ladies, may I interrupt for a moment.” Nathan had had enough of their bickering. He wanted answers and he wanted them now. “You say you’re angels. Do you have any ID?”
Now that sounded intelligent! I’d better have that drink now. He crossed the room and pulled out a decanter of Irish. Poured a liberal three fingers and took a large gulp.
“ID?” The two women spoke simultaneously and looked at one another, then back at him. The short one pursed her lips, then finally said. “We are angels. We don’t need ID. Watch this.”
Nathan stood stupefied as the apparitions disappeared, then reappeared on the other side of the room. He sank into a nearby chair, the drink in his hand forgotten. Heaviness filled his mind, as though he were underwater. Well, go along with it. What the hell … it’s just a dream. Maybe.
“Okay, I believe you. Now why are you here?” He took another long sip, waiting and watching.
“Your love life is in danger,” the tall one said. “We’re here to fix you up with a really knock-out broad—”
“I said let me do the talking!” The short one turned and pointed her middle finger at the tall one and Nathan watched in amazement as the redhead leaped in the air, crashed against the ceiling and came down on her butt. He returned his attention to the short, rotund angel with a sheepish smile, thinking he’d better be nice to this one. She was dangerous.
“Now, what I have to say is going to shock you, perhaps.”
“Yeah! She’s good at the shock business,” the redhead interrupted as she climbed to her feet, rubbing her backside. “Don’t piss ‘er off.”
“Language!” the other angel screeched.
“Okay, ladies. No more monkey business, all right? Tell me why I’m having this dream and let me get back to counting sheep.”
“We’re here to explain about
Barbara and why you can’t seem to fall in love again,” Short and dumpy said, casting him another of her benevolent smiles.
“What do you know about her?” Nathan tossed back the remainder of his drink and stood. “You get out of here—er, out of my dream … right now!”
“No can do,” Sadie said sagely. “This ain’t no dream. See, that Barbara woman wasn’t the gal for you. Too stuffy … not even musical. A man like you needs a woman who’s musical … among other things—”
“Sadie, kindly allow me,” Pricilla intervened with a wince. “This is not a dream, sir—”
“Bull,” Nathan snarled. “It’s gotta be a dream. Either that or I’m snockered.”
“You are neither snockered nor dreaming, Mister Bridges. Tomorrow night there is a blue moon. All you have to do to free yourself from the cloud of misery you’ve been under since your unfortunate experience with Barbara, is perform Blue Moon at precisely eleven of the clock.”
“What?” He sloshed three more fingers into his glass and turned to look at the pair of angels again. But all he saw was the blank wall. They were gone.
* * * *
“Okay, so why the heck did ya zap me?” Sadie was tired of being thrown in the air and landing on her butt. Mighty tired. “If you do it again, I might break that danged zapper finger o’ yours.”
“Stop being insolent. I zapped you because you were being impertinent and I have told you before that you cannot—”
“Yeah, yeah. Upsurp the authority of a fully-fledged angel … blah-blah-blah.” Sadie flipped her small wings with the tips of her fingers. “One a these days I’ll be as full-fledged as you.”
“Usurp,” Pricilla stated with a decided air of righteousness.
“What?” Sadie snorted. “You correcting me again?”
“The word is usurp, not unsurp.
“I said upsurp, not unsurp.” Sadie laughed aloud at the look of exasperation on her mentor’s face. “You look like you swallowed a frog.”
“Well, never mind. We have to get a note written for Nathan and finalize our plan.”
* * * *
Nathan awoke refreshed and alert. Something he hadn’t done in a while. Even the two glasses of booze hadn’t affected him. He jumped out of bed, heading for the bathroom when he spied a note stuck under the door. Detouring, he swiped it up and read it, a grin spreading over his unshaven face.
Remember to play Blue Moon tonight. Eleven o’clock is the time. Look to the window and make your wish. Then all will be fine.
Sadie and Pricilla.
Nathan thought he hadn’t been dreaming after all—maybe there was something to this angel business. Stranger things have happened, he decided. He shook his head as he folded the note and tossed it onto the dresser. He’d been alone a long time and miserable most of it. If angels were sending him messages, he’d better pay attention.
* * * *
The first two sets went smoothly, the audience applauded enthusiastically as the last note died. Olivia took a deep breath and gazed out over the audience as the lights went up. Her gaze stopped at two oddly dressed women standing at the foot of the stage. No one appeared to notice them but her. They were frantically pointing at her and then at the window. The tall redhead jumped up and down to get her attention, while the shorter angel grabbed onto the tall one’s sleeve, trying to stop her.
Olivia blinked and they were gone. The lights dimmed again, and she looked toward the window where the moon was rising over the tops of the pines. A blue mist surrounded the glowing orb, emitting a strange light. Olivia lowered her eyes and whispered huskily into the microphone, “Ladies and Gentlemen, a special treat. Nathan Bridges and I will do a Mel Torme standard, Blue Moon. Tonight is the night of the blue moon, a rare event. If you look out the windows, you’ll see this magic moon. It is said that if you whisper a wish to the blue moon, it will come true. And we do hope your dreams come true.”
Olivia nodded to Nathan that she was ready, then peered at the window, swallowing a lump of pain that suddenly threatened to turn into tears. Feeling foolish to be doing so, she couldn’t help looking at the moon and wishing. If he’d only look at me once as a woman and fall in love. Oh how I wish he would.
Nathan followed Olivia’s gaze as she stared out the window. At that precise moment the moon came into view, rising quickly to fill the huge picture window. Overcome by the memory of the note he’d received, he put his sax to his lips and hit the first note, glancing at his watch. It was exactly eleven o’clock.
“Blue Moon … you saw me standing alone. Without a dream in my heart. Without a love of my own….”
Olivia’s deep, smooth contralto eased into the song, blending perfectly with his horn. A shiver of delight went through him at the sound. It was magic. The audience grew quiet as their music filled the air. He pulled a low, vibrant wail out of the sax as she came to the last stanza, and let her breath whisper to a low moan. “ … Blue moon, now I’m no longer alone, without a dream in my heart. Without a love of my own….”
The last note faded and Nathan licked his lips, feeling like he’d never nailed a song the way he’d just done with Olivia. They’d been spectacular. You could’ve heard a pin drop, the room was so quiet, then suddenly applause erupted, the audience standing as they clapped, whistled and shouted, ‘Bravo.’
Nathan leaned away from the barstool he’d been using as a prop and stepped up next to Olivia, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. Their eyes met and Nathan felt his gut tighten in reaction to the shine of sweetness in her eyes. It was as though he could hear her voice in his head, telling him they were perfect together. Without thinking, Nathan leaned forward, brushing his lips over hers, tasting briefly the softness that was Olivia. He took a deep breath, hearing a few chuckles from the spectators, and pulled back, still holding her lovely gaze.
Turning to the audience—hands still clasped—they bowed gracefully, once, twice and again as the applause thundered.
“You are one marvelous lady, did you know that?” he said, eyes still on the front of the room. “You take my breath away.”
“You aren’t so bad yourself, Mister Bridges,” she answered softly, squeezing his hand.
“Together, we’re even better, huh?” He looked at her then, as they moved back and the lights dimmed. “They want an encore. You up for it?”
“Oh yes,” she answered with a smile that rocketed right through his heart. “I’m up for anything. What’ll it be, Mister Bridges?”
“Call me Nathan.” He picked up the sax and brought it to his mouth.
“I don’t know that one,” she quipped with a grin. “How about ‘Moonlight in Vermont’? Mel’s music seems to be working magic tonight.”
“Yeah. In more ways than one, baby. In more ways than one.”
* * * *
Olivia fussed with her hair, fought not to bite her thumbnail and watched the clock. He was late. Ten minutes late. She didn’t know whether to be furious or to laugh. He’d told her last night that he was notorious for tardiness everywhere except to rehearsals and gigs. She’d thought he was joking, but now realized he’d been warning her. Maybe so she wouldn’t get upset? Sighing, she went to the window to watch the waning moon. Last night it had been magical … with a bright blue aura surrounding it. While she sang, she’d watched it glow and pulse, and for a second the stars around the moon burst into glorious light.
A knock on the door startled her. She crossed the room and eagerly opened the door. He stood there, well over six feet, lanky, boyish and sexy. All man, all hers. Olivia took his hand and drew him into the room with a wordless gesture.
“Hi,” he whispered, drawing her close as he kicked the door shut behind him.
“Hi,” she returned the greeting in a throaty whisper. “You’re late.”
“Yeah,” he answered as his lips lowered and closed on hers. Drawing back, he asked, “Are you mad?”
“Yes,” she nodded her head, trying to look stern. “I’m totally, insanely mad a
bout you.”
“Insane, huh?” He stepped back and stuck his hands in his pockets, smiling. “Because if that’s the case—”
“Ah … I mean that I’m insane where you’re concerned,” she whispered, coming closer. “I’m totally sane about everything else.”
“What I’m trying to say is,” he paused, sucked in air, then continued. “I’m trying to say we have something special—at least I know I feel it. Do you? Are you crazy enough to take a chance on me?”
“We’ve always had something special on stage,” she hedged—uncertain where he was going with this. She edged back a pace. “What exactly are you getting at?”
“I realized I’m in love with you. Last night, I mean. That’s when I knew it for sure.” Nathan removed his hands from his pockets and closed the distance between them, gripping her shoulders, drawing her against him. “I’m going to kiss you,” he whispered. “Need to kiss you—have to kiss you.”
Olivia melted into his arms, opening to him like a flower as his mouth moved over hers, tenderly at first then demanding and hot. Fire sizzled along her skin where his hands lightly held her shoulders. His breath hitched as her hands moved up to fondle the crisp hair at his nape. He moaned and pulled back, then moved to kiss her again. She drew back a space and gazed up at him. “I wondered how long it would take you to really look at me.”
“I’ve been looking at you from day one,” he answered, brushing a fingertip down her nose. “I just didn’t want to see you.”
“Why?” Olivia was busy curling in closer, feeling the heat of him, the beat of his heart beneath her hand wandering over the front of his shirt.
“I was afraid,” he admitted, dropping his forehead gently against hers and closing his eyes. “I got hurt bad once. And you are so … so beautiful, so sweet. You make me feel things I’ve never experienced. I knew you could hurt me worse than any woman I’ve known. What you make me feel is so powerful…”
“Hmmm. A woman could get used to this,” she whispered teasingly. “Having all this power, I mean.”
Blue Moon Magic Page 6