He immediately returns to scribbling notes on the score, and everyone else returns to their conversations. I lean on the back of the piano as he writes; his brow furrowed as he silently composes.
Molly frowns. “And that’s supposed to convince me?”
Roland looks up at her and grins. “What’s on your mind, shortcake?”
“Love,” I answer for her.
His eyebrows rise. “You’ve fallen in love, Mol?”
“More like Lara has, and she refuses to confess.”
“Again?” He shakes his head. “So fickle.”
I narrow my eyes at him. Even if I’ve accepted his truth, it’s not nice to tease me about it. I walk around to sit beside him on the bench. He slides over to make room for me as he continues to play. Molly leans on the back of the piano and watches us.
“And who is the incredibly lucky fellow this time?” He tilts his head toward me.
“It’s you, of course. Don’t you remember?”
His hands still over the chords for a split second, then he glances up at Molly. “Of course. Silly me.”
“I knew it!” She bounces on her toes clapping. “Oh, it’s so romantic! Do you write all your songs for Lara?”
“Yes,” he says quickly, resuming his play.
Shaking my head, I stand and take Molly’s hand so she’ll stop clutching her chest. “Stop swooning and come on.”
We’re halfway across the stage when Gavin appears, and everyone stops what they’re doing.
“Roland, Darby, Fiona,” he says their names as if reading off a list. “I need to speak with you.”
Roland stands and walks toward the theater owner. Darby emerges from behind a set, and Fiona, our dance coach, scampers with perfect poise from where she was working with Bea and Tanya.
“Lara,” Gavin says, noticing me. “Is this little Molly?”
My mouth goes dry, but she smiles at him all innocence. “I’m not so little!”
“No?” Bloodshot eyes move up and down her body, and my throat closes. Shut up, Molly. “Let me see those legs.”
She puts her hands on her hips and starts to turn, but I quickly catch her arm and jerk her behind me. “She’s just teasing.”
Gavin glances at me. “Roland mentioned something new. You up for leading a show?”
“O-of course.”
“Good. Now back to work,” he barks. “I want the new blocking ready for tonight.”
From far away, it seems, I hear Evie and Tanya do a stomp-stomp! My eyes meet Vanessa’s, and hers are shooting daggers at me. I can only imagine what’s bugging her ass, and I don’t have time for it.
“Don’t ever do that,” I say through clenched teeth at Molly. “Don’t you know anything?”
Roland’s pencil is in her hand, and she sketches on a blank staff. “You’re always so panicky. I think Gavin’s nice, and he treats you like you’re the next big thing.”
The thought makes my stomach roil. “Gavin is only interested in money.”
“Because he cares about us. If the show fails, we all fail with it.”
“Not all of us. Gavin will survive, even if we don’t.” Once we’re at the back of the stage, I push her in the direction of our room. “Go back and see if you can help Rosa.”
She makes a complaining noise, but she leaves. I go to my spot at upstage right and follow the lead of the other girls with warming up. I spend some time going over the steps from last night, repeating and reworking my entrance.
Burlesque is not complicated stuff, and my part is pretty insignificant. All of the eyes are focused on the girls taking off their clothes. I’m starting to get bored and annoyed that I had to get out of bed early for this when Roland joins me.
“How are you feeling today?” Real concern is in his expression.
Lowering my arms, I face him. “I’m okay. I’m worried about her.”
He knows I’m thinking about Evie, the one person who always made rehearsals fun.
“Don’t worry. I’m working on a way to help her.”
“How?”
I’ve never known how he does it—his connections and ways of getting things done. I’m only sure half, if not all of it is illegal.
His lips tighten, but he smiles, sliding a dark curl behind my ear. “It’s not something for you to worry about. Anyway, I was sent to find you.” He takes my elbow. “We need to test out this new contraption they’ve built.”
I follow him to where Darby stands by the piano facing the back wall. He’s looking up into the rafters, but when we appear, he turns to me.
“The idea is you’ll float in like a bird… or a cloud or something.” The confusion in his gravelly voice almost makes me laugh.
“Or an angel?” I tease. “You haven’t watched the show much this season.”
“Seen one set of tits, you’ve seen ‘em all. You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
My eyebrows rise. “What exactly am I doing?”
“Sit on the bench, don’t fall off, and we lower you slowly down to the stage.”
“What do you think, Lara?” Gavin’s baritone is full of authority, asking me what I think as if I have a choice. “How does our newest angel feel about flying?”
“I’m sure it’ll be… interesting.” I peer up… up… up into the darkness high above the stage, and while I’m not afraid of heights, the skinny catwalk so far above makes my stomach turn.
“It’s time you show more skin. Tell Rosa you’ll be topless tonight.”
“I don’t see why that’s necessary,” Roland argues. “Lara’s just a kid.”
“She’s a woman,” Gavin says, pinching my cheek. “No more hiding it. Give me a little shimmy on the way down. The men will eat it up.”
I try to smile, but it dies on my lips. I knew this day was coming. What the hell am I doing here if I don’t intend to strip? I just wasn’t ready for it to be tonight.
Roland’s steely gaze meets mine, but I shake it away. If I’m going to lead the show, his days of sheltering me are over. I don’t have the right to feel betrayed.
Still, a sense of dread creeps across my stomach. I’ve been around here long enough to know what comes next. First I’m topless, then I’m on my knees.
This is how it starts.
4
“Survival is an inside job.”
Mark
My place is fifty feet above the stage, in the dark, on a narrow catwalk. A thick rope hangs beside me, and I wait for Lara to arrive and take her seat.
This afternoon we rehearsed it, and the new props worked perfectly. She sat on the wooden swing with the flesh-toned belt around her waist, and the machinery lowered her smoothly down to the stage where the girls sashay below.
“It’s sophisticated enough we can time it to match the beats of music in the score,” Darby had said, beaming with pride.
I didn’t respond, but when he asked who wanted to be up here holding the safety rope, I was the first to volunteer.
The music barely reaches me all the way up here in the dark. Only the lights on the dancers below are visible. Everything else in the house is black. The second song begins, and I feel the vibration of another body climbing the metal ladder.