by Price, Sarah
Amanda splashed cold water on her face and used a paper towel to dab at her skin. She felt weary, her body weak and exhausted. Sleeping on the plane had come in short spurts, and there would be no time for a nap at the hotel. She didn’t even know which hotel Alejandro was staying at. As she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she realized that she didn’t even know what Alejandro’s reaction to her unexpected arrival would be.
When she exited the ladies’ room, Charlotte was already in action, talking to two men dressed in casual clothing. One of them wore a hat that read “Reloaded” across the front.
“There she is!” Charlotte waved Amanda over to join them. “Amanda, this is Will and his assistant, Jon, who will walk you through the questions in advance. I’m leaving you in his capable hands, but I’ll be waiting down here for when you’re finished.”
The thought of being left alone with Will, whoever he was, did not thrill Amanda. But she had done radio interviews before with Alejandro. Speaking into the big microphone did not intimidate her. Being alone, however, did. She worried that she might say the wrong thing when she answered their questions. While she’d get to see the questions before the show went live, even that level of preparation did not erase her discomfort. When Alejandro was by her side, she knew he was there to take over if anything went wrong. Without him, she had only herself to rely on.
Fifteen minutes later she was sitting in the studio, earphones covering her ears and the black microphone before her face. The DJ was a young man with brown hair that was brushed back from his forehead. His smile helped put her at ease, and since she knew the questions already, she felt a strange sense of comfort.
“It’s just like a dialogue,” the DJ told her. His accent was not as heavy as Charlotte’s, and Amanda found that she could understand him better.
The song that was playing faded away, and the light on the studio wall that read “Live” turned on.
“I’m sitting in the studio with a very special guest,” the DJ said into his microphone, giving a friendly wink to Amanda. “Anyone in London who is breathing knows that Viper is in town. His concerts are sold out and Capital XTRA is the only station with tickets, which we’re giving out throughout the day. But today we have a surprise guest, Amanda Diaz, the most famous Amish woman in the world!”
Amanda took a sharp intake of air. She detested that description, which continued to creep into the media.
“Amanda made national headlines last year when Viper hit her with his car in New York City. Since then, the world of music has been fascinated with this lovely woman who captured Viper’s heart and hand.” He gave a short pause. “Amanda, I understand that you just flew into London from Miami.”
When he stopped talking, she knew that was her cue to respond. “I did, ja.”
“You must be tired, I imagine.”
“I didn’t sleep very well on the plane, so I am tired.” She pursed her lips, trying to think of something exciting to say. Her mind flickered back to Alejandro when he did interviews. “But I’m excited about being here in London,” she said, trying to make her voice sound more enthusiastic than she felt. “It’s a lovely city. A far cry from the home where I grew up.”
“A farm, correct?”
“Ja, a farm.” She glanced at the DJ and he raised his eyebrows, still smiling at her. “An Amish farm, I’m sure you heard.”
He nodded his head. “We Brits aren’t too familiar with the Amish. At least not until we began learning more about you. Is it true that you don’t have electricity and plumbing?”
That question had not been on the sheet that Will’s assistant reviewed with her, and it caught her off guard. She found herself laughing. “No plumbing? Is that what people think, then?”
“So plumbing is good, electricity bad?”
“The Amish don’t categorize things like that,” she started to explain. “It’s not good versus bad. It’s more simple versus worldly. Worldly things take us away from honoring God and being a family. Imagine how nice the world would be if everyone shunned worldly things.”
“Such as . . . ?”
Amanda cringed. She had done the one thing that she hadn’t wanted to do: talk herself into a corner where she wasn’t certain of the correct answer. “Vell . . . ,” she started, trying to think of a good example. “Let’s start with pride. Pride separates people from each other, creates a barrier between individuals. The Amish live simply, not focusing on building or buying bigger houses or cars. To do so would be showing pride. The Amish do not try to better themselves over other people. Instead, we try to work together and help each other without expecting any gratitude beyond knowing we have followed God’s word.”
The DJ frowned. “So, thanking people demonstrates pride?”
Again, she laughed. “Oh no, that’s not it. It’s the expectation of being thanked.”
“I see. So what if I were to say thank you for coming on to our show?”
She was beginning to relax. “If you did, I would say you’re welcome!”
This time, the DJ laughed.
“Now, you flew into London this morning. The last we heard, you were at your parents’ farm with Viper’s daughter.”
She made a soft sound in her throat. This was also not one of the questions Will had reviewed with her.
“How shocking was that, Amanda, to suddenly have a child thrown into your care?”
With questioning eyes, she stared at the DJ. Why had he strayed from the questions? She didn’t want to answer anything about Isadora. And she didn’t want to answer anything personal about Alejandro. But as the seconds of silence grew, she knew she had to respond somehow.
“I . . . I was surprised, ja, but I truly love our daughter. In fact, I left her in the care of my schwester . . . sister, I mean . . . and I miss her terribly,” she said with as much composure as she could muster.
“Why are you here, then? There are an awful lot of stories floating around, Amanda. Do you care to set the record straight?”
“I don’t read those stories,” she said truthfully. “But I’m here to support my husband on his European tour.”
“No divorce plans?”
Amanda gasped. “Is that what people are saying? No! And I don’t care to answer any more questions about my marriage.”
The DJ gave her the thumbs-up as he moved on to another topic. But Amanda’s cheeks burned, and she took several deep breaths before she could continue the interview. The rest of the questions proved to be more benign, focusing on her favorite memory of the South American tour, which country she was looking forward to visiting in Europe, and how she felt about the changes in her life.
When the interview was over, Amanda quickly stood and removed her earphones, setting them down on the chair where she had been sitting. She said nothing to the DJ, avoiding eye contact with him.
“Brilliant!” he said. “Spot-on, my dear.”
She remained silent.
“The listeners will eat that up, Amanda. You’re a natural.”
“I’d like to leave now,” she said at last.
He frowned. “You’re upset? About that one question?”
Hating the anger that swelled inside her chest, Amanda tried to remain composed. Words escaped her, and she was afraid to open her mouth for fear of saying something that was not kind.
“Hey,” he said, reaching out to lightly touch her arm. “Those were the questions that your assistant sent to me this morning.”
Stunned, Amanda stared at him. “This morning?”
He nodded his head. “Just about ten minutes before you arrived. She told me that these were the new questions and topics to discuss.”
Dali? Dali had done this?
“I see,” Amanda said. “I reckon I was just caught off guard. Personal relationships, whether good or not so good, are not something that the Amish discuss with others.”
The DJ nodded his head. “I’m sorry, Amanda. I meant no offense.”
The door opened and Will motioned
toward Amanda. “We need a few photographs, and then Charlotte says you have another appointment.”
Amanda forced a soft, forgiving smile for the disc jockey, realizing that her anger should be directed at its source, not at him. “Danke,” she managed to say before she turned to follow Will out of the studio.
Alejandro stood in his dressing room, fixing his red tie as he looked in the mirror. After three days in Spain and two in Portugal, he felt a sense of relief to be in England for an extended period. There was something about the English fans that appealed to him. Their loyalty matched any of the Spanish-speaking countries and, in some cases, surpassed them. Yet they weren’t pushy, invading his personal space. It was always a refreshing change.
Someone knocked at his door, and Alejandro frowned. This was his time to regroup and focus on his meetings before the concert. He had been quite clear when he’d told his team he didn’t want to be disturbed. Someone had decided not to follow his directive, and that did not sit well with him.
He ignored the interruption until it was repeated.
Frustrated, he stormed over to the door and flung it open. “I told you no interruptions, G!” Despite his irritation, he left the door open for Geoffrey to step inside while he finished getting dressed. Back in front of the mirror, he ran his hands through his hair, fixing the way it draped over his forehead
“How’s the crowd?” he asked.
“Sold out. You know that.”
Alejandro nodded. Sometimes he just liked to hear the words: sold out. The O2 arena in London. He didn’t think he could ever get tired of hearing those two words. He redirected his attention to his tie; it didn’t look right. With a quick tug, he pulled it off and tossed it onto the counter. “Hand me that black tie.”
Geoffrey did as he was instructed. He stood there for a moment, watching as Viper began to thread the tie under his collar. For the English audiences, he liked to dress a bit more formally than at his other concerts. They seemed to appreciate a more stoic look, unlike the South American cities, where it was preferred he be more casual and outgoing.
“And the reporters? They are here?”
Geoffrey nodded. “Waiting to interview you before the concert starts.” He paused for a long moment before he added, “And she is here.”
“Who’s she?” he asked as he adjusted his tie.
“Amanda.”
At the sound of her name, Alejandro paused for just a few seconds, his gaze never moving away from his reflection in the mirror. Amanda? In London? He tried to wrap his head around such a concept. He needed to remain calm. How was it possible for Amanda to get from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, to London, England? With no resources or experience traveling, outside of the trips they’d taken together, Amanda would certainly not know how to book an international trip. She probably didn’t even have his tour information.
Dali.
He knew at once that Dali must have helped her.
He returned to the business of dressing, straightening the sleeves of his black shirt and adjusting his cuff links. “And you learned of this how?” he said, his voice even and calm.
“She’s been giving interviews all day, and I understand that she’s on her way to the arena.”
He tried to not react and remain neutral. Inside, however, he wasn’t certain how he felt. Almost three weeks had gone by since he’d left her in Lancaster. Not once had she tried to reach out to him. For his part, he had thrown himself into work: filming a video in Los Angeles, meeting with companies in New York, signing the Movistar deal in Madrid. But at night, when he finally found the courage to retire to his empty bedroom, he thought of her.
Now she was here in London?
He hadn’t expected that from her. If something was wrong, he would have heard. That meant only one thing: she wanted something. He wanted something, too. It had been a long and lonely few weeks for him since she’d left midtour in South America. He had to consider his options and prepare himself mentally for seeing her. Geoffrey’s warning gave him the time to think about how to best handle this situation.
“Gracias, Geoffrey,” he said, finally turning around from the mirror. He hardened his gaze as he met Geoffrey’s eyes. “Is the Meet and Greet set up? And are the reporters here for the preshow interviews?”
He ignored the look in his manager’s eyes, the one that questioned his ability to raise a wall that kept him from displaying his emotions. That invisible barrier was the only way Alejandro could protect himself. That was something he had learned long ago.
Chapter Six
By the time she arrived at the arena, Amanda was behind schedule. Dali’s schedule, she reminded herself. Not mine. Had she been able to sidestep Dali’s brutal schedule, she would have confronted Alejandro at the hotel at his most vulnerable: when he was waking up.
Now the vulnerabilities were all hers. The delay in meeting with him heightened the feeling of butterflies in her stomach. The only blessing in disguise was that Dali’s schedule had kept her busy with people fussing over her hair and makeup before interviews and crowding around her constantly asking if she was comfortable.
After the last interview with an entertainment reporter, Amanda had to practically beg Charlotte for just a few minutes in the ladies’ room to freshen up. A few minutes to think, a few minutes to let her mind get caught up on everything that had happened. Since the previous evening when she had left Miami, two guards escorting her through Miami International Airport and whisking her through security, Amanda hadn’t had time to think.
Or rather it was that she’d had too much time to think, but everything she’d thought unraveled when she stumbled off the airplane and into the care of Charlotte.
With a huff and a puff, the previously accommodating Charlotte had crossed her arms over her chest and retorted, “Go on, then! The loo’s over there. But be snappy about it. We don’t have time to fanny about!”
Amanda had stood at the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. Somehow, she did not look tired. She suspected multiple touch-ups of makeup and fussing by hair stylists had hidden the layers of weariness she felt. She didn’t know what she would say to Alejandro or how he would react. With so many appointments and so much media buzz, she knew it was highly unlikely that he had not heard of her arrival in London. She could only pray that he did not turn her away. Just the thought of that reaction made her feel nauseated again.
“What am I doing here?” she mumbled to herself in the mirror. “I must be ferhoodled for sure and certain.”
Someone banged on the outer door.
“Amanda! Stop lollygagging, and let’s get going. We’re going to hit that traffic, and it will all go to pot!”
Between the heavy English accent and the strange words she used, Amanda wasn’t certain what Charlotte was yelling to her through the locked door.
Traffic had delayed the last interview, and Charlotte barely let Amanda freshen up again before the hired car arrived to take them to their final destination for the day: the O2 arena in London. As they approached the large dome, Amanda leaned forward in the seat to peer at it. White with lighted poles sticking out, it was perhaps larger than any other arena she’d been to with Alejandro. She suspected its imposing appearance might be partly because of the lack of tall buildings in the near vicinity, but she was still impressed with its size.
As the driver passed through the external security checks, Amanda began to tremble. Her heart raced and her palms felt clammy. She was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Yet adrenaline coursed through her veins, giving her new energy. What would Alejandro say when he saw her? How would he react? She had prayed during most of the flight that the coldness with which he’d left her would have vanished, replaced by the love that she knew he felt for her. Still, she couldn’t help but worry. If she was wrong and he maintained that icy front, she wouldn’t know what to do.
She looked over at Charlotte, who, as always, was focused on her cell phone.
“Charlotte.”
&
nbsp; The woman looked up when Amanda said her name.
“Do I look all right?”
Charlotte smiled, but it was a distant smile, not one of real caring or compassion. “You look lovely, Amanda.”
“I’m tired.”
“I bet you are.”
“But do I look tired?”
Charlotte gave a soft laugh. “No, Amanda. You do not.”
Satisfied, Amanda sat back and stared out the window, praying that God would help her do the right things over the next few hours.
Two security guards stopped the car near the secured entrance to the underground. A man walked forward and opened the door, reaching out his hand for Amanda to take.
“We’ve been expecting you!” he said in a cheery voice. “The bloody traffic got you?”
“Bloody traffic?”
Charlotte popped out of the car and grabbed Amanda’s arm. “Yes, the traffic was horrendous,” she said, giving the man a stern look. “Let’s get going.”
The man led them through a series of doors, pausing at different checkpoints to display his credentials. Several people looked up when they saw Amanda being led down the corridors toward the stage area. She thought she saw a few people sneak a photo with their smartphones. But she didn’t care. In just a few minutes, she would see Alejandro. She had hoped to talk with him before the concert. Now, she assumed she’d have to wait until afterward. At least she was fairly certain he would not have too many time-consuming commitments following the show. They could talk things out, and this time he could not walk away from her. She only prayed that he did not shut her out.
As she followed Charlotte and the man, Amanda rubbed her hands on the sides of her simple cream-colored dress. With her hair pulled back and her skin golden brown from working outside, Amanda felt different from the last time she had been backstage. She recognized several workers from the previous tour, and they nodded their heads in acknowledgment. Although she couldn’t remember their names, that was something she would correct.