Violent Daylight

by Caroline Angus Baker

  “Yes, but Lea can’t cope with something like world tour, album promos and television appearances, not alone. Lea has floundered to cope since Veena left.”

  “She never said anything.”

  “She is too proud to say anything.”

  “Lea blames me for driving Veena away when we split up.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Lea should have told me that, instead of hurting Canna at dinner. It took a lot guts to show up there, and also in Corsica at Erik and Holly’s wedding. Canna is trying hard to make up for her mistakes. No one appreciates that.”

  “I do. I like Canna,” Henri assured him. “Let’s go and see what Scott wants.”

  They headed for the meeting room off Scott’s vast office, a room filled with leather couches and armchairs. They went in, to find Erik and Holly sitting together, Lea and Scott each in an armchair, and Dane at the window taking in the London view.

  “At last,” Scott joked. “Please, take a seat.”

  Claudio sat down with Henri and watched Dane join the group. Dane threw him a smile, a fake one. They still hadn’t spoken since Canna and Dane went drinking together. Claudio thought it best not to bring it up because it might give Dane the satisfaction of knowing the situation upset him.

  “Right, let’s get to business,” Scott said. “Canna pitched an idea to me. She suggested the idea of you chaps filming a DVD to go out for Christmas. It’s a brilliant idea.”

  “Canna doesn’t work for us,” Lea interrupted.

  “No, but she should work here. She’s a friend of mine and she has a lot of business skills. She’s pragmatic and realistic.”

  And she knows you’re sleeping with your deceased brother’s wife, Claudio thought.

  “She wants to invest in Virtuosi for a tour, and if that’s what you all want, I agree to it. It won’t be cheap, but if Canna is paying, I don’t mind. I’m happy for the Virtuosi brand and products to go on tour. Four classy guys, good music, no stupid behaviour.”

  “We can try,” Erik joked.

  “I made a few calls; we can have the Royal Albert Hall in three weeks’ time to record a DVD. Getting an audience to buy tickets won’t be easy with short notice, but we will have to make it cheap to fill the seats. We film, hire extra staff to edit and get the DVD on the shelves for Christmas. What do you say?”

  “I say yes!” Dane cried. “It sounds terrific. We love the set list we played at our concerts around Europe. Doing another performance will be easy.”

  “You’re under contract to make another album for the Taylor record label. Virtuosi should have completed it already and haven’t even started,” Scott reminded them.

  “Our position is clear, Scott,” Henri said. “We hate the direction you want to take the group. We want to stay the classics, not opera-pop crossover.”

  “You can make another opera album if you pay for it,” Scott said. “We will market it and release it, but you have to cover the cost.”

  “How are we going to do that?” Erik said. “We barely made money from the first album. You got most of the profits.”

  “I got the profits because I took a risk with your project,” Scott replied.

  “A risk that paid off while we worked,” Holly said.

  “Canna phoned me last night,” Scott continued. “There is a guy, named Yuri Dementyev. Claudio, Canna said you know him.”

  Claudio nodded. “I met him in Malta. He is some Russian oil billionaire.”

  “He wants Virtuosi to sing at his party in Moscow. He will pay one million Euros. You do that, and you can pay for your own album production with your own songs. Then, if you still want to, you can go on the tour paid for by Canna. There won’t be any contract restrictions.”

  “It’s not what we signed to the label for,” Lea said. “You promised pure opera, in Europe’s finest opera houses, and two CDs of classical works.”

  “You got the CD and the first tour. Now, you need to pay if you want to continue you have the help of the label for promotions and distribution. Remember, most money made is on concert sales and merchandise sold. That money would be yours.”

  “If Canna is our benefactor instead of the label,” Dane said, “she would be our tour boss.”

  “She would be the person you answer to, instead of me,” Scott said.

  “Canna knows nothing about the music industry,” Lea argued. “That’s stupid.”

  “Canna is wealthy. Look, the music industry is under pressure at the moment. Many bands would love what I’m offering. Someone is willing to loan you the money to get it done. You can take it, or you can fade into obscurity and I can revoke your Taylor Music contract.”

  “That’s bold,” Erik said.

  “It’s business.” Scott stood up from his seat. “I’ll let you think it over.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Lea said the moment the boss had disappeared. “We should find a new label.”

  “Why?” Holly asked. “We are getting a Royal Albert Hall special out of them. I can arrange the music and effects, the guys can sing, and we promote the first album with the DVD. It’s a fabulous deal.”

  “And we can make our own new album if we play one night in Russia,” Dane said. “I’ll take that. Who is Yuri Dementyev?”

  “He is one of Canna’s business partners,” Claudio said. “I’m not sure he can be trusted, but all we need is his money and he has plenty. We should take the chance.”

  “Did you know about this offer, Claudio?” Lea asked.

  “No.”

  “Ouch,” Dane chuckled. “Canna arranged it and didn’t even bother to mention it to you?”

  “She is busy in Milan and Naples. I will speak to her later.” It did hurt a little, but that was Canna. All surprise, no chit-chat.

  “Six months from now, we could have two albums and a live DVD on the market. It will be all written, performed and orchestrated how we want, and we can go on tour.” Dane sounded excited enough to burst. “Canna can loan us the money, and we can pay her back. We can’t turn this down now. I turned down five years’ worth of bookings to sing in opera houses all over Europe to do this project. I know everyone here made the same sacrifice. We won’t get those chances back! We have to push ahead!”

  “You can do this project, Lea,” Claudio said, and he leaned forward in his seat. “We can achieve exceptional things.”

  Lea smiled. “A world tour isn’t what I imagined when we started Virtuosi.”

  “So? Don’t hate Canna for having the money to help us.”

  “I don’t hate Canna,” Holly added. “I’m in love with her! I get to be the music director of a world tour of opera singers, and one of them is my husband. It’s a dream come true!”

  “We should all go home and think about it,” Lea suggested. “We can discuss rehearsal for the DVD performance tomorrow.”

  The group split up, excited to know they would be performing at the Royal Albert Hall in a few weeks. Claudio stopped in the hallway on his own and pulled out his phone to send a message.

  ‘Blinky, are you there?’

  ‘Am I where?’

  Claudio smiled. ‘Anywhere that you can talk to me’

  ‘I’m in Paris’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Yuri and I have meetings today and tomorrow’

  ‘Just the two of you?’

  ‘No, a yacht client is meeting us tomorrow’

  ‘Can you tell Yuri that Virtuosi will do Moscow?’

  No more messages, now she wanted to talk. “Hello, my goddess,” he purred.

  Canna laughed. “Smart-ass. How are you?”

  “Hungry.”

  “Go food shopping. I’m glad you will sing for Yuri. Can I be your date?”

  “You don’t have to ask that! We will use the money to produce an album… an album with our own musical choices.”

  “Scott agreed to that?”

  “He did. You worked wonders on him.”

  “His guilt over sleeping with Angeline worked w
onders. He will agree to anything to keep his affair under wraps. I’m happy for you guys. All of you. Especially you.”

  “How’s Paris?”

  He heard Canna grumble. “Okay. The meeting is essential. If I get this client on board, the boat yard will be busy for a year. I need this client.”

  “Have any more reporters wanted to interview you about the Naples scandal?”

  “Yes, but I’m out of the country, so they aren’t bothering me. Forget that, is the Virtuosi world tour on, or not?”

  “Perhaps six months from now it could happen.”

  “Save me a ticket if you do concerts somewhere nice and warm.” Canna sighed. “Sorry, Claudio, I have to work now.”

  “Okay, don’t get too cozy with Yuri.”

  “No chance! This is just chat about yacht details. Tomorrow I will need to be oozing charm.”

  “Goodbye, Blinky. I miss you.”

  Claudio looked at his phone after he ended the call. His screen image was Canna on board Vincitore out at sea. He knew he should be excited about Virtuosi’s plans, but instead he was nervous about Yuri and Canna together in Paris. That guy wanted to bed her, and Claudio knew it. He glanced up and as Veena approached. “Hello.”

  “I’m busy,” she said and rolled her eyes. “I can’t talk.”

  “It was only hello.”

  Veena tossed a lock of her peroxide blonde hair over her shoulder. “I got your message about discussing living arrangements when the baby comes. The baby is mine. You can’t have him.”

  “I’m not asking for custody, just visits. I have a new home. It’s right around the corner from you.”

  “Canna’s house.”

  “Yes.”

  “What is your plan? Take my baby and live with your whore?”

  “Canna lives in Milan.”

  “But you’re fucking her, aren’t you?”

  “I’m in love with Canna.”

  “As long as you’re with Canna, you can’t have access to the baby.”

  “That’s bullshit!”

  “She ruined our marriage!”

  “No, I ruined our marriage. It’s not Canna’s fault that I love her. Don’t punish the baby.”

  “Leave me alone, I’m tired.”

  “Are you all right?” Claudio watched her rub her massive pregnant stomach.

  “Fine! Leave me alone!” Veena waddled down the hallway and out of sight.

  Just as Claudio’s professional life looked set to hit new heights of stardom, his personal life looked as perilous as ever.

  CHAPTER 14

  LONDON

  Tick, tick, tick. The clock in Claudio’s new kitchen seemed so loud, as if it wished to taunt his loneliness. The clock was the only other living thing in the house. When married to Veena, Claudio wished for space, peace, privacy, and now that he had all of these things. Now he wanted company; someone to come home to, someone to share his life with every day. After a hot shower, he stepped into a pair of boxer briefs and wandered into the kitchen in the hopes of having a meal. Canna had done the food shopping for him when they first moved in, but a week and a half later, things looked grim in the cupboards. He had done the obligatory ‘fridge stare’ a dozen times as if by magic food would appear. Was it possible to be too lonely to buy food?

  The doorbell rang, and he sighed. Unfortunately, the lights in the living room were on so he couldn’t pretend he was out. His bare feet shuffled along the white carpet in the living room and to the front door. The white tiles in the entrance way sent a cold shiver up his near-naked body. He owned possibly the only door in London that had no peephole. “Who is it?”

  “Room service.”

  Claudio’s face broke into a smile. He pulled the door open and there stood Canna in a perfect white business suit and her hands full of green reusable shopping bags. “Room service?”

  “House service?” she offered. “Food service? Fuck, who cares. Let me in, it’s cold, and these bags are bloody heavy.”

  “What are you doing here?” he asked as he closed the door behind her.

  “You mentioned you were hungry earlier.”

  “But… you…”

  Canna dropped her bags and had no words to say. She ran her hands over his chest and around his neck. The first kiss gave so much relief that Claudio felt he might cry. One kiss became a second and third. Slow, consuming kisses cured the world of its ills. He held her tight against his body, every inch of them connected as she continued to search his lips for affection. She moved a fraction to speak and every breath drifted against his lips. Her strong blue eyes remained closed as she leaned against him. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

  “Yes, why?”

  “You’re trembling.”

  Claudio had gone from cold to red-hot in an instant. The excitement and arousal made his veins pulse. He kissed her full lips again. “Why aren’t you in Paris?” he whispered against her mouth.

  “I don’t want to be in Paris.”

  Canna’s wandering hands on Claudio’s bare back sent him a desire to kiss her again. Words needed to wait until he satisfied the craving to be close to her. Each kiss made him dizzy. When they finally came up for air, he whispered, “I want you right now.”

  “Upstairs.”

  “I don’t think I can wait that long!”

  Canna opened her eyes as she giggled, and she rubbed her nose against his. “We can have impulsive sex anywhere, but I want to make love to you in bed.”

  Claudio had Canna half undressed before they even reached the bedroom at the top of the stairs. Getting her blouse off allowed Claudio much more freedom, freedom to feel her skin against his. Her naked, scarred and tattooed body gave Claudio a thrill every time. A thrill that reached a height he didn’t know existed until they met. The formidable Canna Medici and the walls she built around herself came down for Claudio, and he was able to see her in all her glory. He felt weak and timid when she laid him back on the bed, like a prisoner to her sensual devotion to him. Her hot lips grasped at his while her strong hand gripped his erection with a slow and precise accuracy. It didn’t take long until she pumped him close to exploding all over himself. Canna gave him a second of relief when she let him go but a moment later he found himself inside warm bliss. She began to grind her body against Claudio, and he couldn’t kiss her anymore. Desperate breaths of air flew in and out of his lungs while he groaned. He managed to open his eyes long enough to see Canna sitting on top of him, her arms stretched out above him to hold onto the headboard of the bed. She had complete control over his body while she rode him, which allowed him deep inside her, no inch of them separated even for a moment. He cried out when he came and lifted his body from the bed. He sat up, and she wrapped her arms around his body. Claudio sat with his face between her breasts as she continued to move against him. Canna’s breathing became more laboured as she reached the height of her own satisfaction. Claudio felt her dig her nails into his back as she came, and called out his name as she quivered in orgasm. He lifted his face and Canna kissed him, a searing soulful kiss that drenched him in her love and satisfaction. They held each other tight in their arms while they caught their breath again, the long interlude from reality hidden from the world in the dark.

  With the erotic liberation that Canna bestowed upon him, Claudio felt calm. Canna wrapped her naked body around him while he lay flat on the bed. He could feel her little heart flutter as she rested against him.

  “I’ve said it about a hundred times, but I’ll say it again… Blinky, you leave me so undone.”

  “As only the finest romances do. If you don’t walk away dizzy and satisfied, then it’s not real love. You need stumble out around feeling as if someone squeezed your soul and all your energy seeped into the person you love.”

  “That’s highly poetic.”

  “Put in a song, baritone.”

  Claudio chuckled. “Promise me something. Don’t walk away from me. Ever.”

  Canna lifted her head and looked at him. “Wh
y would I do that? Why would I let this go? Even the most self-sabotaging woman wouldn’t end this relationship. I have to be away sometimes, which causes us pain, but that allows us this pleasure when we meet again. This is perfect.”

  Claudio raised his dark eyebrows as he thought about it. She had a point. Monogamy wasn’t an issue for them, not even with thousands of miles between them. “Blinky, why are you here?”

  “I was in Paris with Yuri, going over a proposal for the boat yard, and I couldn’t help but think of how close Paris is to London. Yuri kept asking me to spend the night with him…”

  “What?”

  “No, not like that… I think. He suggested dinner and drinks.”

  “The prelude of getting you into bed. Trust me, I’ve used it far more than I should have.”

  “Either way, I declined. Giancarlo and I jumped on the Eurostar instead.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Giancarlo? He wanted gifts for his girls at Harrods. He has a hotel room nearby. I have to be up at 5am to catch the train back to Paris.”

  “Then we simply won’t sleep at all.”

  “I need to unpack your groceries. Those chiller bags won’t keep it cold forever.”

  “Good point. I’m intrigued by the fact you stopped to go food shopping.”

  “Is it too hard to believe that I’m capable of a kind gesture?”

  “Is it a kind gesture, or an assumption that I’m too useless to do it myself?”

  “A bit of both.”

  “Charming!”

  “I can’t fly to London to do your shopping each week. I will set up internet shopping and have food delivered next time.”

  “So you do think I’m hopeless.”

  “Only when it comes to some things.”

  “How do you know what I want to eat, or what I like?”

  “You’ll like whatever I tell you to like.”

  Claudio scoffed. “Your arrogance knows no bounds.”

  “You haven’t been single in at least a decade. I’m helping out.”

  “I’m not single now. I have you.”