His lips press together, and he looks at the window again. My hand hasn’t left his, and I pull him into the square again, away from my sad memories, my truth. He takes the lead again, and I follow him past the massive white church with its three skinny, slate-gray spires pointing high into the night sky.
As we walk down the narrow, cobbled streets, I realize except for that one moment, I haven’t stopped smiling since we stepped foot outside the theater. We sneak through the city like runaways, and his hand only leaves mine for a moment. It becomes the strongest sense I have of this adventure.
Finally we find the place, and as we enter the dark, smoky hall, there’s a room to the side filled with people sitting on chairs or on the floor. Some spill out into the passage where the music echoes off the wood floors and walls. Mark pulls me to the doorway, and his hands find my waist as he holds me in front of him. Smoke fills the air, and men and women of all races crowd together to listen.
Men play trumpets and clarinets. One has a guitar, another an upright bass, and still another a tuba. Mark is right—it’s brilliant and captivating, and the crowd sways and nods to the rhythms. The songs stretch on for several minutes as each musician takes a turn improvising.
I study their faces and the silky expertise with which they manipulate their instruments, and something deep within me connects with the sounds. I wish Roland were here to listen.
This is what the city is all about.
This is the brightness.
I study the faces of the audience, black and white, pushed in tight, smiling. Some have their eyes closed; others are laughing and keeping time, starting to dance. Everyone feels it. We’re all here smashed together in one hall, and the music erases the pain and darkness that otherwise keeps us apart.
“What do you think?” Mark’s lips are close to my ear, and I turn and kiss them before answering.
“I love it. It’s my new favorite place.”
He kisses me again and smiles, and I return to the show. That’s when I see him. Two blue eyes fixed on me from across the room, and my body tenses. Mark’s hands tighten at my waist.
“What’s wrong?”
Gavin is watching us, and his frown shakes me to the core.
“I’ve got to go,” I say, backing away. Reality rushes back stronger, as if it’s angry for being shut out for even a night.
I push through the crowd to the door, Mark right on my heels.
“What happened?” he asks. “Are you okay?”
“I just realized how late it is, and I’ve got to get back. Someone might see us.”
“But… Are you worried about Freddie? Because I don’t think—”
“No. I mean, I don’t know,” I stammer, turning up the collar of my coat. “We could run into anybody out here.”
His hand finds mine again, clutching it. The warmth is reassuring, but I’m too shaken to relax. He leads me through the damp streets, and we pause at the Pussycat Angels banner in the front of the theater. It’s a black and white shot of all the girls sitting together nude. Nothing is shown, our arms and legs are strategically placed, but sex is in our eyes.
Tanya stands in the center of us with her body dripping in sparkling diamonds. Large, glittering stones are strategically placed over her nipples, and she’s wearing a thong. Everything about her is fake, the wig, the makeup, even the jewels, but she’s the star.
Soon that will be me.
My stomach is tight as we sneak around to the back entrance. Mark stops me at the door, pulling me to him. “I don’t want to leave you here.”
“I live here.”
“You could live with me.” He hugs me close, kissing my cheek, and a pit forms in my stomach.
I shake my head, stepping out of his arms. “I can’t leave Molly. She’s here because of me. I can’t walk away from her—”
“I’ll find a different job, a better job. We can leave here, and you can both move in with me.”
Leave with Mark…
Leave with Mark…
My eyes squeeze shut as the notion floods tingling warmth through my insides. I want to say yes so much, but like always, my brain forces me to face reality.
“It sounds wonderful.” I choose my words carefully, not wanting to hurt him. “But I can’t walk away on a dream. The truth is you don’t have another job… And I can’t take that chance.”
As I’m saying the words, a gulf of sadness opens in my chest. Staying in this theater, taking my chances as its star is not the best option by a long shot, but we have a roof over our heads and food to eat. Gavin gave me a promise, and Roland’s making him keep it. It’s a tenuous layer of protection, but it’s real.
Mark’s brow furrows, and he nods, thinking. “So it can’t happen tonight, I get that, but it can happen.” His blue eyes meet mine. “I want you with me.”
Stepping forward, I reach for his hand, holding it in both of mine, cherishing the way he comforts me so deeply. He touches the part of me that has stopped believing in happy endings. “Thank you for tonight. For all of it.”
“You sound like you’re giving up.”
I lift his hand to my lips and kiss his fingers. “I’m tired. It’s been a busy day.”
“You need a phone.”
“No.” I shake my head and exhale a bitter laugh. “We can’t afford it.”
“I’ll afford it.” He pulls me closer and touches my cheek. “Go inside and rest, but believe me. I’m serious about this.”
The girls call him a hero. I study his face for the space of a heartbeat, feeling my ability to hope struggling for life. Could he be my hero? It’s too early to know.
Instead, I leave him with a kiss, pushing through the metal door and back to my reality.
12
“An ocean of love flowed over the darkness…”
Mark
Weeks pass, and my world turns into something I don’t recognize. Something I’ve never known.
It’s the happiest I’ve ever been, and when I’m not running errands for Gavin, I do my best to be at the theater. Lara sneaks away to eat, and I meet her with a smile. She didn’t say no when I asked her to move in with me. What her body language and actions said was show me, and I’m damn well going to show her. I’ve been working on proving she can trust me ever since.
This morning Gavin sent me to a florist to pick up a box marked fragile. I didn’t ask questions, but I did buy a five-dollar bouquet. It’s not red-velvet roses—the tag says chrysanthemums and lantana—but Lara’s eyes light up when she sees it.
I hope it makes her musty theater-home a little brighter, red and gray as opposed to burgundy and black.
“I was thinking I could take a job at the shipyards. Maybe starting at night and working my way up to something full time.” She’s perched on a large box, and I lean beside her, my arm around her waist.
“No.” Her dark head shakes fast. “You’ll be exhausted, and the docks are dangerous. What if you were hurt?”
Warmth moves through my stomach. “You’d worry about me?”
“Of course!” She stretches, catlike to kiss my jaw, and I can’t resist. I catch her neck and push her lips apart, tasting her sweet mouth. Her cheeks are flushed pink when I straighten, and I smile. She’s adorable.
“Okay…” I take out my pocketknife and cut a wedge of apple for her. “I could take a retail job at one of the men’s stores… get a clothing discount.”
“I’d like that better. You’d look amazing in a suit.”