by Katie Dowe
They got paid for their music. They went on tour, too.
“I know their music. It’s a silly name, but a good band.”
Dale grinned.
“Well, I heard your sample, and now I’ve heard you. I think you’d do great as an opening act for them. They’ll be performing in a week. You know the place.”
He named an auditorium where she had longed to perform, quite often, about half an hour away from home.
“I know it, yes,” she said, and she managed to keep the tremor of hope from her voice.
“Then shall I tell them that they’ve got their opening act?”
Oh, did he think she was that easy?
Heidi sat back, her lips curving in a sexy smile.
“After we talk numbers, Dale. Of course we can.”
And so it began, for her.
After Dale took his leave, she turned to Christian, and let the vulnerability show.
Not too much. But enough to let him in.
“So, how did you think I did?”
The question made him smile, as much as it warmed him.
“I think you were more wonderful than I could ever say,” he told her, and she heaved a sigh of sheer relief.
“I was nervous. So nervous. Gosh, I have to call Mrs. Spinelli and tell her. Or maybe it’s too late for that. I’m… Oh wow, I’ve got a booking! And actual booking that pays actual money! And it’s all thanks to you.”
Christian shook his head.
“No. I just brought him here. You won him over. That was all down to you. You were magnificent, Heidi.”
She smiled, slowly.
“I was pretty good, wasn’t I?” she asked, and made him laugh.
“Another drink?” she suggested.
He nodded.
They toasted her triumph, because for the moment, she had triumphed.
Finally, Heidi checked the time and gasped.
“Shit, I need to get home. I still need to walk the dogs. Oh, hell, if I get more bookings, I’ll have to give that up, won’t I?”
Christian looked amused.
“Really? You’re worried about giving up the dog walking business?”
He was teasing her.
But she nodded seriously.
“I don’t think you understand how attached I am to those stupid mutts. I tell them every time everything goes wrong. I talk to them. I understand them, too, sometimes. And they love me. I don’t want them to have to get used to another person, all over again. But then…”
“This is what you’ve worked for,” said Christian, softly.
She nodded.
“It is. This has always been it. Well, but it’s just one show. You never know. It might lead to nothing. But it will still give me an audience bigger than I’ve ever had. One that’s expecting music, so I won’t have to warm them up properly. They think this warming up act is a big deal, but boy, they forget what it’s like to play to a crowd that comes only to heckle!”
That was said with real feeling, and made Christian laugh.
She noticed, changing the subject quickly to his training. It wasn’t difficult to listen to him. It was like a different world.
“Wow. So after all of that, you can still walk,” she said, finally, amazed at the kind of rigorous training he’d had to deal with.
“I like the water part of it. I’m part fish.”
“Graceful as a dolphin?” she teased.
“Deadly as a shark,” he retorted, making her chuckle again.
“Weird that somebody who loves water so much decided to fight fire?”
He shrugged.
“I would’ve thought that it made sense. Who else would fight fire?”
She grinned.
“I guess, but I’ve yet to see a marine mammal fight fire. Or a shark.”
Time flew, and she forgot that she’d meant to go home.
Being with him seemed to make everything right.
Everything about him soothed her.
Made her feel right.
Finally she rose, reluctantly.
“I do have to go,” she said.
“I’ll drop you home.”
She smiled up at him.
“Just drop you home. I can’t stay tonight.”
Her disappointment was obvious.
“I want to. But I have training at five in the morning.”
She rolled her eyes.
“More training and there won’t be anything left to train,” she said, and she didn’t care that it sounded like grumbling.
They drove back in silence, each lost in thoughts.
When they reached, she turned to him with a smile.
“Good night?” she said.
He looked at her as if he hadn’t seen her before.
“You look so beautiful tonight. As if you were created to haunt my dreams,” he said, and the words took her breath away.
When he leaned towards her, their lips met with sighing softness.
“Oh, Christian,” she whispered, and she felt herself being pulled closer to him.
His lips were so soft, so passionate. They promised her everything he didn’t with words – all of the words she wasn’t ready to hear seemed to be in that kiss.
His hands moved up her body, caressing her waist, moving up to cup her breasts gently.
“Oh, that feels so good,” she whispered, and his teeth latched on to her lower lip and tugged, before his tongue licked over that little hurt, soothing it away.
“I can make you feel so much better,” he said, and his fingers brushed over her nipples, making her shiver.
He awakened so much in her that she could hardly believe it. He made her feel more than she had ever thought she could.
She could feel her body coming awake.
His lips moved down her neck. She felt his tongue sliding along down that bared shoulder, making her tremble and moan again.
He felt so good.
“You taste like nothing I’ve ever known. I’m addicted to you,” he whispered, and she pressed herself closer to him.
His fingers became more urgent, stroking and soothing her in turns.
His hand moved to her hips and slipped into the slit in her dress, stroking along her thigh. She knew she wanted him to touch her. She was so needy for him.
She wanted him to know how much she needed him.
His fingers moved up, stroking along her inner thigh, as his other hand stroked over her nipples, over and over again.
His lips found herself again, and his mouth slanted over hers, kissing her so long, so hard, that she could hardly gasp a breath.
She felt his finger slide up, and she spread her legs for him. He touched her, the center of her, and she was so wet, so hot for him.
She wanted to be taken, right there.
“Come up with me,” she said, again, and she felt his fingers slide inside her.
She wasn’t wearing panties. It hadn’t been to tempt him. It had just been for the dress. But his fingers now found that easy access and took advantage of it, sliding deep inside her, curling inside her and making her yank his head to her and kiss him harder than she ever had before.
“Christian,” she said again, and his name was a moan of pure desperation.
She knew he needed her, too, as much as she needed him. Her hand moved to the front of his jeans and stroked him, feeling the bulge where he was so hard and ready to slide deep inside her.
He pulled away, leaving her nearly bereft.
“Not tonight. I won’t leave if I come up tonight,” he said.
She knew he wouldn’t, so she smiled as she pressed one last, soft, relatively chaste kiss to his lips, and moved away, getting out of the car and walking away.
Chapter 7
It was her big night.
She was determined to do well.
She’d done that twice. Now she’d be third time lucky.
Heidi had to believe that. She had to do it for Mrs. Spinelli, if nothing else, because she had finally declared
the occasion big enough for her to come.
From the wings, Heidi looked around frantically, hoping to catch a glimpse of Christian, or Rick.
But there was no sign of either.
She did see Mrs. Spinelli, with Bobby the ballet dancer.
“Two minutes,” she was told.
Dale caught her eye, and gave her the thumbs up.
She had to set everything else aside and sing, now, because this was her chance.
If she did well, she might get more bookings. She might even get booked for a tour.
She was just the opening act, but she meant to open with a bang.
Heidi looked spectacular, thanks to Mrs. Spinelli again.
She was in red, with her makeup just as bold.
Heidi was beginning to rethink her reliance on subtlety. Maybe Mrs. Spinelli knew what she was talking about when she declared that you had to go bold or not go at all.
Taking a deep breath, Heidi tried to fill herself with confidence.
“Time’s up,” somebody told her, and she walked on stage.
She nearly reeled. There were thousands of people there.
Before she could fumble, she let herself go on autopilot.
“Hello, everybody. It’s my job to warm you all up, so I hope you’ll cooperate. I don’t know if you’ve heard of me, but never fear. You just have to deal with about fifteen minutes of me, maybe less, and you’ll have the people you really came to see.”
At least she wasn’t being booed.
“I’m Heidi Richards. If you’d like to throw anything, I’d appreciate coins. I’m broke, that’ll help me make rent.”
Apparently, alluding to having things thrown at you worked with just about every audience.
Then the music started, and Heidi forgot to be nervous.
She sang as if it was the performance of her life. She sang as if everything in the world depended on it.
She sang as if she meant every word, and she – the opening act – was demanded for an encore.
Heidi couldn’t remember that ever happening at any show she’d ever been to.
An encore.
By the time she made her way down backstage, she was so tired that her legs felt like rubber.
“Mrs. Spinelli,” said Heidi, and ran straight into her arms. She was held against her generous bosom, and Heidi let herself shake, finally.
“You were magnificent. I told you those arias would come in handy.”
Dale popped up behind her.
“You did an incredible job, Heidi. Check will be in the mail, and be sure I’ll get in touch with you. We need to find you an agent. I’ll be in touch, all right? And I’m not just saying that. I would just say that, too. But I really mean that. You were triumphant out there.”
And he was gone.
She hoped he meant what he’d said.
She had maxed out every credit card she had – a total of two – to buy the red dress.
Mrs. Spinelli had assured her that it was necessary. Now she was inclined to agree.
But where was Christian?
“Mrs. Spinelli, would you like to stay for the rest of the evening?”
Mrs. Spinelli fluffed her hair.
“My dear, once I come out, I never go back until after the party backstage. Now come on. We’ve got good seats out there, Bobby and I.”
Heidi had her eyes peeled for Christian. She looked everywhere, hoping every moment that she would see him.
He had to be there.
He wouldn’t miss it, would he? He knew how important it was to her.
They hadn’t talked about it. But she’d thought that was because they’d had an understanding.
He had come for almost every single one of her performances on much smaller stages, and he had missed the big one.
As the night went on, the bewilderment turned into hurt.
He had missed her big night.
Mrs. Spinelli noticed her flagging spirits.
“Maybe we should go home, Heidi,” she said, and Heidi nodded gratefully.
She saw Bobby’s long face.
“I’ve got a backstage pass. You can have it,” she offered, and the long face brightened immediately.
Mrs. Spinelli and Heidi hailed a cab and left.
Somehow, the night of her triumph – all right, a minor triumph, it wasn’t like it was such a big deal – had left her cold, all because Christian hadn’t been there.
“You missed your young man today,” said Mrs. Spinelli.
Heidi shrugged, intending to make light of it, but she changed her mind mid-shrug.
“He didn’t say he’d be there. But I thought he would. I talked to him in the morning and he didn’t sound like anything was wrong. He knew how important it was, Mrs. Spinelli. I wouldn’t have had tonight without him. Why wouldn’t he come? It makes no sense, does it?”
Mrs. Spinelli shrugged.
“I don’t know about that. But you’re being silly, letting your big night be ruined by a man and what he might or might not have done. Maybe he had an emergency. He is a fireman, this young man of yours, isn’t he? It’s possible. Or maybe he thought being there might unnerve you. Either way, tonight is supposed to be about you. You should focus on yourself.”
“Wise words,” said Heidi, after a moment of silence.
“When you’ve lived as long as I have, my dear girl, all words are wise. Now, your performance was very good, but there are a few things you need to pay attention to,” said Mrs. Spinelli, and for the rest of the cab ride back, Heidi found herself being critiqued, and most thoroughly.
By the time she got back to her apartment, she was exhausted.
Mrs. Spinelli had very successfully distracted her. But now she was alone, and there wasn’t anything to think about except Christian.
She dug her phone out of her bag and stared at it for a few long moments.
She could call him.
But she didn’t want to seem desperate.
Maybe she should play it cool.
She used to be good at playing things cool.
She probably should give it a rest. If he wanted a break from her, she would give him one.
But did he?
Giving up, she walked to the kitchen and put a sandwich together. She’d been too jittery to have lunch.
What the hell, thought Heidi, and poured herself a glass of wine, too.
She would drink the wine, have the sandwich, and try her best to edit the videos of the night. Once she got the go-ahead, she could upload them to her YouTube channel.
Heidi made an effort to immerse herself in work, and it worked, for about an hour. When she emerged from it, she checked the time and saw that it wasn’t midnight yet.
It was too late to call.
She’d hoped that it would be.
But she could send a text.
Would that be desperate, too?
Finally, she fell asleep with the phone in her hand, and she still hadn’t made her decision. Exhaustion made it for her.
The next morning, though, was a different matter. She always sent him a good morning. She’d been doing that for over a month.
After chewing her lip for a while, she decided what to send him.
Hey! Missed you last night. Was incredible. Thank you again! And good morning.
There, that was casual enough, thought Heidi, and hit send.
But she didn’t get a reply.
She took all her dogs out for walks. Zoe was back in her apartment, and she had taken the chance to do some redecorating. Apple was behaving better than ever.
Everything was fine, she told herself.
For the second dog run, she didn’t have a hand free for her phone.
But by the time she got home and checked for a reply, she started wondering what was wrong.
Was he one of those weird hot and cold guys?
How much did she really know about him?
By lunchtime, after her daily baking, she gave up and tried calling him.
&nb
sp; But it went to voice mail. She left a message.
“Hey, Christian. I haven’t heard from you. Is something wrong? Call me, all right?”
That, she thought, struck the right note. Concern, but not nagging. That was a good balance.
But Mrs. Spinelli noticed when they were having lunch.
“The young man hasn’t called you yet.”
Heidi smiled and tried to wave it off.
“There’s probably a fire somewhere,” she said, trying to make a joke of it.
It was a reliable joke to fall back on when you’re dating a fireman.
Except, she was beginning to wonder if they’d been dating at all.
“Well, he’d better call you soon,” said Mrs. Spinelli, and Heidi knew that she was thinking a few choice swearwords in her head.
Mrs. Spinelli had a mouth on her when she got going. Heidi had heard it on one memorable afternoon when the milkman had tried to shortchange her.
Heidi didn’t go out that night. There was nowhere to perform. Well, there was Barney’s, but she needed an evening at home.
It was an indulgence she only allowed herself once a week, usually. But it had been a big week. Twice wasn’t too much.
But the next day, she looked through the crowd again, and didn’t see him.
She left him more voice mails, until they got full and she couldn’t leave more.
Heidi was sure now that something terrible had happened.
Finally, she called the fire station.
It took her a couple of tries before she finally got put through to Rick.
“Rick! Rick, this is Heidi. Remember me?”
“Heidi! Oh shit, I should’ve called you, shouldn’t I? Things just got so hectic.”
“Rick, what’s wrong? What happened? I’ve been trying to get a hold of Christian for so long. I…”
“Heidi, he’s in the hospital.”
Heidi felt like the bottom had dropped out from under her feet.
She couldn’t have heard right, could she?
“Hospital?” she squeaked.
“Yes. Man, I’m so sorry I didn’t call you.”
“What happened to him?”
As if she cared about his excuses for not calling her! She should’ve listened to her gut, when it had told her that something was horribly wrong.
Christian hadn’t been blowing hot and cold.
Christian was in the hospital.
“There was a fire. Smoke inhalation. He’s been in a coma for three days.”