Did she ask about the mask or was it apparent why he wore it? What did she do now? No matter what he looked like, she had to hug her benefactor.
She swore she felt him shaking when she wrapped her arms around him, but it didn’t stop her.
After what seemed like an eternity, he gave her a light embrace. She didn’t know why her breath caught or why she didn’t want to let go.
He stepped back first and stared into her face.
Neither of them spoke. As if they each needed to assess the other, they simply stood there.
“Erik?” She had to say something.
“Come on.” He took her arm. “We have to get you formally settled. We have a lot of work to do if you’re going to be ready for that audition.”
“You said something about some ground rules?” She hurried to keep up with him.
Without another word, he led her backstage to a set of stairs.
Maybe she was insane, but it never occurred for her not to follow him. Instead, she kept tight hold of him while he led her into the dimly lit passageway and brought her down two flights of stairs. The door he opened showed pitch-black nothingness.
“Erik!” With a gasp, she pulled him closer.
“Another thing we need to work on is your fear of the dark.” His smooth voice seemed to caress her. “The darkness is nothing to fear. Trust me, bright light can hold just as many horrors.”
Her instinct told her he knew from personal experience, but that didn’t lessen the fact she wasn’t stepping one step into the unknown.
“So be it. Just know I would never allow anything to harm you.” He leaned over and the space took on a soft sepia light, illuminating a narrow hallway.
Though she believed his words, she still relaxed at the bit of light. “Are we under the stage?”
He took her further down the path.
“What ground rules do we need to cover?” She wanted some answers. “When do formal lessons start?”
He turned a corner and flipped on a light switch and she had no choice but to gasp at the scene in front of her. Costumes, costumes and more costumes of all shapes, sizes and genres.
“Oh, wow.”
“Feel free to play dress up anytime you want.” He guided her through the room to another door. He opened it, and she had to smile. “Also, feel free to use these rather than paying for your laundry by babysitting clothes at the laundromat.”
Apparently, the man followed her. She supposed he had to know what he was getting into, but she wished she knew as much about him. Even when her father was alive they didn’t have their own washer and dryer, and she tiptoed over and ran her hands across the large white industrial appliances. “When did you buy the theatre?”
Once more, he took her arm.
As he led her away, her questions continued. “Are you going to renovate the whole theatre? What are you planning on doing when you’re finished?”
At the end of the hall, he opened another door.
“What are the ground rules?” No way did she want to do anything to mess this up. “What do I need to be doing?”
“Perhaps a new cage for my little Cricket will silence her song for a moment.” With a little bit of flourish, he turned on another light.
“Oh, my God.” She shook her head and backed up. There was no way this was for her.
“Didn’t you ever hear the expression to go toward the light?” He prodded her inside.
She stood just in the doorway to what had to be the most magnificent bedroom that ever existed anywhere. The room itself was as big as the whole of the apartment she grew up in. Along one wall was a lit mirrored vanity, along the other an old style desk complete with chair. A crystal chandelier hung in the middle of the space and other little lamps were dotted around the room. There was even a large screen television.
But nothing, absolutely nothing in the world compared to the bed. A swan bed where the head of the bird formed the headboard and the wings stretched out majestically made an art piece to the likes she never had seen. She longed to stretch out on a real mattress, and the massive one on that bed seemed like the perfect one to sink into. “Erik.”
He bent down and moved her hair away from her ear. “If you actually entered and went to the door at the far wall you would find a bathroom with its own shower and bathtub.”
A room of her own? A beautiful one at that. Clean clothes whenever she wanted? A bathtub? Tears clouded her eyes. Maybe the right thing to say was she couldn’t accept this. Maybe there was a catch. “What do you want from me?” A man giving this to a woman could only want one thing.
He let out a chuckle. “Maybe now we should discuss the ground rules.”
Life on the street was better than selling herself. She ground her teeth together and with a huff, she turned to leave.
Erik blocked her path. “Rule number one. Never assume anything.”
At his words, she looked up into his masked face.
“Rule number two. You will make sure all ties remain cut with your former so-called band.”
She pressed her lips together. Truth was she never quite told Ramon or anyone she quit. They didn’t truly need her, but she did owe them an explanation.
“Rule three,” Erik continued.” You will never tell anyone who is teaching you. You will never talk about me outside the walls of this theatre. You won’t even utter my name.”
Captivated by his eyes and the authority in his words, she continued to stare.
“Number four. You will not talk about this.” He motioned to his mask. “You will not ask me about, nor will you try to remove it. Ever.”
At his hard, final tone, she could only nod.
“Other than that, I expect nothing from you. Except for you to do your best and never question my methods.” He raised his chin. “Do you have any questions?”
Yes, she had a million questions or maybe she had none. “What can I do for you? How can earn my keep?”
“I want you to sing. I want you to focus on your craft. I want you to shine.”
His answer brought a fresh batch of tears to her eyes.
He pointed back to her bedroom. “It’s all yours, Cricket.”
At last, she gave in, rushed to the bed and lay down. Pure luxury encompassed her, and the scent of fresh lavender from whatever detergent Erik used wafted over her. She turned to find him leaning against the doorjamb watching her. From his position, she could barely see the mask. “Erik, I have one more question.”
As if to tell her to go ahead, he lifted the one eyebrow she could see.
“Why me?” She sat up and hugged one of silk pillows to her chest.
“Because you’re different and because you deserve it.”
Sorrow dripped off his statement. A sadness coated with a hardness to not let anyone or anything in. He allowed her in, and something told her she could never ever disappoint him.
Chapter Seven
Erik hit a key on the piano and his hair fell over his eyes. “Start at A again.”
Oh yeah, the hair falling over the eyes. Christine almost wanted to tell him to get some hair gel, but then his hair wouldn’t fall over his eyes, and she wouldn’t get to watch him slick it back when it annoyed him. She waited.
“Christine.” He tapped the key again and then swooped his hair back.
That was her cue. For probably the millionth time today, Christine sang the scale. She would have been positively bored if it weren’t for getting time to stare at Erik. He was fascinating to look at, to watch, to listen to. Maybe he should be on stage and the world could just gawk at him. She knew it was entertaining her to no end.
At last, a flicker of a smile appeared on half his face, and along with the bit of a smile came a crinkle at the corner of his eye and the grand appearance of his dimple. She wondered if his other side boasted a matching indent, but the fact she didn’t get to see it almost made it even more sexy and mysterious, especially because the mask shadowed his other eye, making it almost glow. In truth, t
he mask didn’t bother her, it was part of what made Erik, Erik, and she sighed.
“Are you all right?” He leaned over the music and made a note.
Before she answered, she considered her options. If she said she was all right as she had done multiple times earlier when he asked, he would nod and return to their work. What would happen if she said she wasn’t all right? Perhaps she should shake things up, but she didn’t want to lie to him. She was more than all right especially with his constant attention, and she nodded.
“Take a sip of your water and let’s continue.” He pushed her glass toward her.
Ever the obedient student, she did as Erik demanded, then leaned on the piano while he wrote a couple more things down. She didn’t really know what he was writing or why, but he seemed really intense and frankly, the intensity was a turn on. Never had she met anyone more focused and his focus was on her or at least her voice. But somehow any of his undivided attention seemed like a great gift. When they weren’t in lessons, he disappeared. She assumed it was to work on the theatre, only returning to make sure she was fine, fed, warm and safe. No one ever cared about that, but her.
“Christine.” Erik tapped his pen on the piano.
She blinked and gazed into those golden eyes. “Yes, Erik?”
“Straighten up.” He jutted his jaw out.
As if her body were on automatic to react to his commands, she stood up straight and thrust her chest out a little. The man wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t expect anything of her except to do her best. In fact, he so didn’t expect anything from her aside from her singing that as they spent more time together, she really wanted him to take notice of her other than simply a vehicle for a song.
For one brief second, she swore she thought she saw him take in her assets, but just as fast, he turned away. Maybe that was it, he could be a man who appreciated assets and though she didn’t have much, she turned around with the backside he might prefer facing him.
“Christine!” he snapped.
In less than an instant, she spun back toward him. “Yes?”
“Please face me and do the scale one more time.” Again, he played the note.
Fine, he wasn’t an asset man. Once again, she sang the scale.
“That’s it.” The little flicker on his lips grew to a full-fledged smile.
As his face lit up with happiness, she practically swooned and deciding a change in venue was in order, she took a seat at the edge of the piano bench with him. “What is it?”
“I have myself a dramatic soprano.” He nodded.
She furrowed her brow. “Is that like an emotional singer?”
Now he let out a laugh. “No, my dear Cricket. You are a dramatic soprano. You sing at the lower end of the soprano range, but you have an emotional voice, one that can keep up with any orchestra. It’s perfect.”
“Oh.” She slid closer to him. Though she didn’t really understand why he was so thrilled over this new discovery, she loved how he figured it out and his enthusiasm.
He faced her. “Now I know how to nurture your voice and choose songs for your range. You’re going to be magnificent.”
“Do you think so?” She made sure to stare into his eyes.
“I know it.” His voice lowered.
“Were you always into music?” The way he looked at her made her stomach bottom out, as if he were seeing inside her.
“My whole life.” He reached his hand out toward her.
Her breath caught, but right before their skin connected, he put his hand down and slightly shook his head as if he were having some inner battle. Not knowing what else to do, she continued the conversation. “Before buying the theatre, did you work in the music industry?”
Rather than answer, he gathered up his papers.
“I would love to hear you play.” She grabbed his arm. Through their few lessons, she had an inkling he could truly play the piano, not just rattle off some song or scale.
“Haven’t you had enough music for one day?” His tone took on a sarcastic slant.
“No.” She inched closer until she finally made contact with him.
He put the papers under his arm. “We have been at this for a while. I know I could use a break.”
Was he going to leave? “Do you want to take a walk or something?”
“I’m not one much for public venues.” He glanced to where their legs touched and then stood. “I need to get some work done.”
Without another word, he walked away.
For at least five minutes, she sat there waiting for him to return. When at last she finally resolved he wasn’t going to come back, she mindlessly made her way back to her bedroom.
She ground her teeth together and went to her bed. Apparently, Erik got here before she did and gave her a present in the form of a little bottle of bath salts.
Unsure if this was a gift or if he just wanted her to go take a nice warm bath like a good girl, she still stomped into the bathroom, ran an extra hot bath and sprinkled in the salts.
The scent of lavender filled the air. As she lowered herself into the glorious water, she reminded herself who made this moment possible, who made her chances on the Stage of Stars possible, who made her current lifestyle possible.
She closed her eyes and lay back. Since Erik revealed himself to her, she swore there was something there, a connection like no other. No, actually she felt the connection before she ever saw him. Maybe it was only wishful thinking.
The water cooled and right before she was ready to emerge into the real world, the music started.
Piano music.
Erik’s music.
In a rush, she got out of the bathtub, barely dried off and put on the robe he gave her when she still took up residence on the stage.
Now completely familiar with the hallways and such under the theatre, she easily navigated her way through the passageways as his music was leading her back to him.
Rather than come up on stage, she entered the actual auditorium.
Her heart nearly stopped at the sight of Erik standing at the piano. His music, a perfect blend of rock and classical, grew with passion, and he moved with the tune as his fingers quickly kissed the keys creating an intricate melody.
As if drawn to him, she tiptoed down the center aisle.
The man personified star with the way his body moved in time to the music, his head bobbed, his hair hung down into his face.
Then he did the most amazing thing.
He began to sing.
At his deep, rich, perfect voice, she pressed her hand to her chest. Her heart pummeled against her palm, and she couldn’t turn away if she tried. The man was more than a musician, he was magnificent, smart, a true talent, everything anyone could ever want. What happened to make him live alone here? He should be in front of the world.
Beyond her control, she made her way up on the stage and over to his side as he went into the second verse. All she wanted to do was touch him, make sure he was real and not something she conjured the last few days.
After singing the chorus, he motioned to her and pointed at the music.
He wanted her to sing? Interrupt the perfection? She wanted to listen to him and shook her head.
Again, he pointed to the music.
Powerless to do anything less than what he asked, she got the feel for the tune, waited for the right moment and sang the third verse.
Though she didn’t think she did the song anywhere near the justice Erik did, he must have been pleased by the way he smiled. His song spoke of love, longing and those things unattainable, the perfect message for both of them in many ways.
Yes, he had given her a few lessons, but this was the first time she felt like they were creating art, connected on a deeper level, him on the piano, her with her voice, both working toward the same goal of creating the perfect song. When they reached the chorus, his voice joined hers.
Christine fought not to stumble on the words. She didn’t want to break the magic of the
way their two voices melded together, his supporting hers, taking her to new heights. It was an experience unlike any other she’d ever experienced.
They repeated the chorus and the music ended. Erik’s last note hung in the air and Christine wished she could reach out, grab it and hold it in her heart forever.
Panting, they turned to each other.
He stared into her face, then he reached forward.
Her breath hitched. Now he should kiss her. They both felt it, right?
Rather than take her into his arms, his fingertip grazed her cheek and wiped a tear she didn’t even know she’d shed.
His eyes firmly affixed on hers, he put his fingertip to his mouth.
“Erik?” She didn’t really know what question she wanted to ask.
“Beautiful.” He grazed the back of his hand along her cheek, down to her jaw and her neck.
The way he touched her roused every nerve ending in her body. She had to have him. He found her, they belonged together. “Erik.” This time she gasped his name.
“You should rest your voice.” He slid his hand down her shoulder, bowed and walked away.
Again, she was left standing on the stage alone.
Chapter Seven
“Did contracts have this many pages when we were signing them?” Erik flipped through the pages of the contract for the Stage of Stars.
“Maybe we were too drunk to notice.” Nash tossed his copy of the contract on the desk and lifted the whiskey bottle. “Let’s do this the right way.”
“If this wasn’t for Christine, I would join you, but I have to be of sound mind and body to make sure she doesn’t make one mistake.” Earlier today, he dubbed himself her manager when he thought she might be signing the contract without fully reading it. Now the pressure was on to make sure he did his job.
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