Plain Return (The Plain Fame Series Book 4) (14 page)

Amanda stood in the shadows at the back of the stage, on top of the upper platform of his set, waiting for her signal to join her husband. No one seemed distressed by the change. Instead, the stagehands remained on point, their wireless headphones conveying directions to them from the stage manager while others in the crew hurried back and forth, doing their own jobs.

In her custom-made black dress, the crystals on its front and back sparkling under the overhead lights, she knew that she was dressed for the part. Unlike the scanty outfits of the dancers on the stage that showed off parts of their bodies in a way that still caused Amanda to look away, the color flooding to her cheeks, her dress mixed sophistication and class with plain simplicity. She smiled when she remembered the meeting with the fashion designer and how Alejandro had reacted to her requests, which had contrasted greatly with his and the designer’s expectations.

As she heard Viper’s song wind toward its end, she felt the familiar pounding of her heart and the nervousness that came over her in the moments just before she walked through the curtains. She always dreaded the walk down those stairs to reach Viper. The one thing she had gotten used to was the bright lights that blinded her, because they basically blocked her from seeing the thousands of eyes that stared up at her. She reminded herself, as always, to focus on one thing: Alejandro.

“And tonight I would like to introduce someone very dear to me . . .”

Alejandro’s voice boomed over the microphone, quieting down the audience somewhat, although people were still screaming and yelling from their seats.

Shutting her eyes, Amanda said a quick prayer to God, something she always did in this moment. It was with his strength that she managed to do this. He had led her to Alejandro for a reason. She would not question his reasons or plans, but would merely abide by them, putting herself in his hands.

When she heard her name and the roar from the audience, she took a deep breath and waited for the curtain to be pulled back. After she’d stepped through the opening, she paused at the top of the platform and smiled at the deafening noise coming from the darkness just beyond the stage. She glanced from side to side, just the way she had been taught so that it looked like she was seeing the people. But the blinding lights hid most of the audience, and that minimized her fear of performing before them.

“Ah,
mi
Princesa!” Viper crossed the stage in three long strides and jogged up the stairs to meet her halfway. He reached for her hand, keeping his gesture slow and overreaching for dramatic effect, and helped her to complete the descent. She couldn’t see his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, but she could tell from the way his mouth twitched that he was watching her. At the base of the stairs, he lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed the back of it. Even though he had made this gesture so many times before on the tour, she still blushed and bit her lower lip as she averted her eyes.

In a genuine response of delight, he threw his head back and laughed, enjoying every moment of her discomfort with his affection.

The noise from the audience increased, the fans screaming and calling out for Amanda.

Still holding her hand, Viper walked carefully to the front of the stage and presented her to the audience. “Isn’t she beautiful?” he said, looking out into the crowd and waiting for them to cheer even louder. “Do you think we can get her to dance for us?”

Amanda felt like a doll on display, especially when he lifted his arm and squeezed her hand, indicating that she should spin around as she had been taught. One full turn. Just enough for the bottom of her dress to fan out and sparkle, an effect caused by the crystals sewn into the hem. From the reaction of the fans, especially those closer to the stage, she could tell that the flow of the dress was an amazing sight, unexpected and beautiful, for sure and certain.

As she always did at that moment in the concert, she wondered about the people standing in the crowd. What was life like in Brazil for the average person? The cost of her dress alone was more than the average hardworking Brazilian made in one year. As they traveled from one city to the next, Alejandro spent most of his time on the phone or checking e-mails. She, however, spent her time staring out the tinted windows, observing the varied landscapes and fauna. Whenever they passed through villages or towns, she noticed the different types of housing. In the city she’d seen small houses built on narrow lots with little to no room for gardens. Yet as they had driven farther away from São Paulo on the Via Dutra highway, she noticed a change in the scenery. Farms lined the highway, mostly on the western side as they drove past the Paraíba Valley. Many of the farms were larger than the ones she remembered from Lancaster, yet she saw very few cattle grazing on the lush green land. She was told that the rich soil here lent itself to the growth of fruit crops, about which she knew nothing.

Viper spoke to the crowd in Spanish. As soon as he’d finished, the beat of the drums started up and he began moving his hips and feet in what Amanda knew was the samba. Behind them, the dancers emerged from the sides of the stage, dressed in skimpy costumes that were adorned with feathers and glitter. Their version of the samba was more pronounced, with engaging hip movements and exaggerated arm gestures that Amanda couldn’t watch. Instead, she focused on what she had been taught to do: a simpler version of the samba, moving her feet as she slowly approached Viper while he sang a song in Spanish.

She didn’t know the words, and given the way he danced toward her, she wasn’t certain that she wanted to learn them. Still, she remembered Stedman’s comment that the music, the lyrics, and the actual dance were only part of a performance. She and Alejandro were acting onstage to entertain the audience, and if Alejandro wanted her to be a part of the performance, Amanda knew that she would do whatever Viper requested.

Toward the end of the song, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close to him, wrapping one arm around her. She placed her hands on his shoulders and stared into the face of Viper, mesmerized by the energy that radiated from him. Despite the fact that the Viper the fans saw onstage was completely different from the Alejandro she had married, she knew that she loved them both.

With his free hand, he removed his sunglasses, a deliberately slow gesture that caused a stir among the fans. When he dipped her backward and leaned over to kiss the base of her throat before pulling her back to an upright position, the noise filling the arena deafened Amanda.

Once the song was over and Amanda’s small role completed, Viper replaced his sunglasses before he gestured toward her one last time. The noise of screaming fans and the sea of posters that they waved demonstrated their adoration, not just for Viper but also for his wife. After a few drawn-out seconds, Viper reached for her hand and escorted her to the left wing of the stage. At the back of the stage, the dancers continued with their gyrations, only this time to a new song. He made sure that Amanda was delivered into the hands of a security guard who would accompany her to the dressing room before he jogged back onto the stage to finish the last few songs of the set.

Back in her dressing room, Amanda sank into a chair and sighed. The dressing rooms were plain and decorated simply, with only the basics. At each of the other venues, the rooms had been similar, only at this one there was a bouquet of flowers sitting on the vanity. “Oh my.” She looked up at Dali. “Where did those come from?”

Dali glanced over her shoulder to see where Amanda was looking. “Ah, the flowers,
sí
. The
prefeito
sent them.”

Amanda blinked. “I’m sorry. Who?”

“The mayor.”

“Of Rio de Janeiro?” For a moment, she could not understand why the governing head of the second-largest city in Brazil would do such a thing. Such a kind gesture from a stranger truly touched her heart. But then she remembered last summer when Alejandro’s limo had hit her on the streets of New York City. The mayor of that city had also sent her flowers. She hadn’t understood it then, although she was beginning to comprehend that that kindness had more to do with publicity for the mayors than with her enjoyment of the flowers. Sharing the story of sending flowers to the media star of the week was a wonderful way to delight the constituents of his city. Important people sought allegiance with famous people in order to retain power. What better way to gain the favor of Viper than by showing respectful favor toward his wife? And an endorsement from Viper could be used during upcoming political campaigns for reelection.

“Alejandro asked to meet you back at the hotel.” Dali paused before Amanda and gestured for her to stand up in order to change out of the dress.

“The hotel?” Amanda did as Dali indicated, yet couldn’t help but express her surprise. “I . . . I usually wait for him and then we return together.”

In the past, Alejandro had left Viper on the stage after the concert and retreated with her to the comfort of their suite at the hotel. Amanda knew that Geoffrey and Alejandro wanted the image of Viper as a club-hopping womanizer while on tour to be replaced by him embracing his new role as husband. Amanda wondered why, suddenly, Alejandro wanted to change this routine, especially without any advance discussion.

Dali didn’t reply but merely continued reviewing some papers while Amanda stepped out of the dress and handed it to the fashion assistant before slipping back into her previous outfit: a simple long black skirt with a plain blouse. Once Amanda was dressed, Dali wasted no time before calling for the security guards to escort her to a waiting car. It happened so fast that Amanda could hardly digest the urgency with which the guards had whisked her back to the hotel and led her through the throng of fans who must have been standing outside the doors for hours. Stanchions, roping, and several large security guards kept them away from the entrance, but as Amanda walked down the sectioned-off walkway, she hesitated.

How long they had stood there, just in hopes that they might catch a glimpse of Viper returning from the concert! The smiles on their faces and the way they snapped photos of her made Amanda realize that she, too, had an effect on these people. Could some of them have been waiting for her?

“Just a moment,” Amanda said before she stepped through the hotel’s doors. She turned around and walked back to the fans. She smiled and let them hug her, a gesture that still felt uncomfortable to her when it came from a stranger. She posed for photos with a few of the fans before waving and retreating back inside the hotel.

“That was a breach of security,” one of the guards said to her. “Viper won’t like that.”

She smiled her appreciation for his concern, but said nothing in response. She would deal with Alejandro’s reaction later.

Upon reaching the suite, she thanked the security guard for escorting her and slipped into the room. With a sigh, she shut her eyes and leaned against the closed door, enjoying the moment of quiet. Her ears were still ringing from the loud music and noise of the screaming fans. She didn’t know how Alejandro performed for so long under the intense heat of the lights and with the loud music battling to be heard over the fans.

Pushing away from the door, she kicked off her shoes and picked them up before she headed through the hotel suite’s foyer and into the large sitting room. The crystal chandeliers and large flower arrangements on the tables enhanced the opulence of the room, which had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. Never in her life could she have imagined such a world existed: a world of travel and champagne, fine dining and dancing. And while she felt uncomfortable with much of this, particularly the clash between her past world and the present, she knew that her heart belonged to Alejandro and that she would not complain about the drastic change in her life. After all, joining his world had been a choice. Her choice.

Amanda stood for a moment at the window, her hand pressed against the cool glass as she gazed out over the expanse of city lights that curved around the bay. In the distance, the lights of Sugarloaf Mountain cast an orange glow upon the small island of rock that jutted out of the water. Alejandro had promised her that he would take her out there on the gondola during their break, the days they had off between concerts in São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. But too many obligations had prevented that from happening. Again.

For once, she didn’t mind. Seeing the city from this vantage point was more than enough for her. What she enjoyed even more than the view was the silence. Days filled to the brim with appointments and obligations were consistently followed by nights of screaming fans and loud music. The contrasting stillness calmed her. She stood there alone, staring into the distance, knowing that her husband was out there somewhere, performing. Once he was finished, the transformation from Viper back to Alejandro would take place and he’d come back to the hotel where he’d fall asleep in her arms.

Chapter Thirteen

When Amanda awakened, she noticed that she was alone. That was the first clue that something was wrong. Alejandro was not beside her. However, the tousled sheets and the wrinkles in the pillow indicated that he had come back to the room, probably long after she had fallen asleep, and had arisen before her.

She sat up and took a few deep breaths. In a few hours, they were to take a midday flight to Salvador for the last of his concerts in Brazil. Dali had already prepared Amanda for the day’s schedule, which included four interviews before the show: one at a television station, one for a radio show, and two for popular magazines. It was going to be a long day. Then, right after the show, a private plane would take them to Buenos Aires, Argentina. There, they would be able to spend some time alone. From the tension she had felt the previous night, Amanda gathered that Alejandro needed a break, even if it was only for a few days.

Slipping out from beneath the sheets, she knelt by the side of the bed, clasped her hands before her, and bowed her head.
Dear Lord,
she prayed silently.
Into your hands I place this new day. Please protect us during our travels. Bless all of the people touched by Alejandro; I pray that they find their way to you, a wonderful God so full of grace and mercy. Bless me with your love and strength. Amen.

The door opened, and Alejandro, already showered and dressed, walked into the room. He paused when he saw Amanda kneeling by the bedside. In silence, he stood with his hands behind his back and his head bowed, respecting her private time with God.

She smiled at him. “Alejandro! You are up so early!”

Amanda stood up and hurried over to him, expecting him to greet her with a warm hug. Instead, he stood before her, stoic and somber. The muscles along his jawline twitched, and there was a vacant expression in his eyes. Instead of warmth, they reflected a coldness that she had never seen before.

“What’s wrong?”

He nodded toward the bathroom. “It’s best that you dress and get ready, Amanda. We have something to discuss.”

His somber mood set off her inner alarm. Immediately, she thought of her family. “What’s happened? Is everything all right at home?”

“Sí,”
he responded with no emotion in his voice. “Now go dress and meet me in the sitting room.”

He waited at the door while she slowly crossed the room. She glanced back at him just once before she did as he instructed. Her heart beat rapidly, and she felt as though a weight pressed against her chest. Whatever was wrong, she knew it was serious. Yet he had indicated that everything was fine at home. Perhaps a show had been canceled? Had something he needed to discuss with her been leaked to the media? Were there more rumors about something that Viper had—or hadn’t—done? Her mind filled with worry as she quickly donned a simple dress that buttoned up the front, its belt highlighting her small waist.

Before she finished, she took a moment to look into the mirror. With her hair pulled back and her cheeks not covered with makeup, she looked more like herself, or at least the self that she remembered from her life in Lancaster. She just hoped that she had the strength to deal with whatever troubling situation awaited her in the sitting room.

Bless me with your love and strength,
she repeated silently. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and headed through the bedroom to the sitting area as Alejandro—or was it Viper?—had instructed her to do.

An older woman sat on the sofa. She wore a beige suit, and her dark hair was pulled back into a bun similar to Amanda’s. Looking up as Amanda entered the room, she nodded her head once in acknowledgment. The files spread out on the table clearly indicated to Amanda that the woman was there on business. What kind of business, Amanda could not imagine.

Alejandro stood at the window, in almost the exact spot where she had stood the previous evening. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he did not turn around as Amanda approached.

She sat on the chair opposite the woman and smiled. “I’m Amanda,” she said when no introduction was given. “And you are . . . ?”

The woman hesitated, and Amanda wondered whether she spoke English. But after a second or two, she responded with a simple, “Senhora Diaz, it is nice to meet you.” Another pause. “Senhora Maria Fernanda de Sousa.”

Uncertain of whether she should offer to shake hands with the woman, Amanda waited to see if the gesture would be made toward her first. When it wasn’t, Amanda crossed her legs at her ankles and folded her hands, resting them on her lap. A heavy silence filled the room, and Amanda made no attempt to break it. She merely waited, willing her heart to stop beating so rapidly inside her chest.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Alejandro took a deep breath and turned around. He pursed his lips as if deep in thought before he called out something in Spanish, as if to someone in the next room.

“Amanda,” he then said in a flat, emotionless voice. “There is someone I need for you to meet.”

Amanda’s eyes flickered in Maria Fernanda’s direction. “You must have been deep in thought, Alejandro. We just introduced ourselves.”

The noise of the door opening and several people entering the room distracted her. She turned her head and looked in the direction of the sound. Two people had stopped just inside the room: an older man and a child.

“I must introduce you to Isadora Daniela da Silva.” Alejandro paused for just one moment before he added, “My daughter.”

Amanda tried to remain poised as she stared at the two strangers. She recognized both of them right away: they had been backstage the previous night. Amanda felt the pressure in her chest increase. She slowly returned her gaze to Alejandro. “Excuse me?” was all that she could say. Words escaped her. She thought she had heard him introduce the little girl as his daughter. Surely she was mistaken.

“Sí,
Amanda
,”
he affirmed. “Isadora is my daughter.”

She pressed her lips together.
Isadora? Daughter?
Her mouth felt dry, and she could barely swallow. “I . . . I don’t quite understand, Alejandro.”

Across from her, Maria Fernanda began to speak. Her heavy accent made understanding her nearly impossible. Most of what she said went over Amanda’s head; she was still fixated on the word “daughter” that had slipped through Alejandro’s lips as casually as if he were introducing her to a new employee or a reporter. Maria Fernanda didn’t seem to notice, or care, that Amanda wasn’t following what she was saying. She continued to spill out an endless stream of words that blended into one another. However, what Amanda did understand were the words “death,” “father,” and “legal guardian.”

As Maria Fernanda’s voice faded into a blur of noise, Amanda turned her head slowly so that she could get a good look at the little girl. She wore the same dress as she had the previous night, although the bow in her hair was blue today. Her blue eyes seemed devoid of expression, and she stared at the floor in front of her feet.

Alejandro remained standing where he was, but his words were clear enough. “Her mother has died, and the grandfather is ill.”

Amanda felt light-headed as she tried to understand what he was saying. Was he talking about the girl’s mother? Was the old man standing there the grandfather? “I . . . I still do not understand what any of this means . . .”

Maria Fernanda shoved some papers at her. “You must sign here, Senhora Diaz.”

“Sign? What am I signing?” As panic overtook her, Amanda stood up and crossed the room to stand before Alejandro. She placed her hand on his arm and stared into his face. “Please,” she whispered. “What is happening, Alejandro? I . . . I don’t understand any of this.”

He didn’t move when she touched him. “Isadora has no other family to care for her, and the government of Brazil will put her in an orphanage unless she is turned over to our care,” he said, his eyes unwavering as he stared out the window.

And there it was.

Amanda glanced over her shoulder at the older man. She saw it now, the pallor of his skin and sunken shadows under his eyes. Most likely he had cancer and, from the looks of it, would not survive the year. Her gaze traveled back to the little girl. Isadora. She had a name, Amanda reminded herself, and was no longer a stranger: she was family.

There was no resemblance to Alejandro in Isadora’s face. Except for the eyes. Clearly, the blue eyes that peeked at Amanda were Alejandro’s: the color, the shape, the expression in them. Amanda chastised herself for not suspecting the truth the previous night. A blue-eyed Brazilian was as uncommon as a blue-eyed Cuban.

“When did her mother die?” Amanda asked, keeping her voice low.

“Almost a year ago.”

“A year? How?” she demanded.

“Amanda . . .”

She turned to look at him, the sharpness of her sudden motion causing him to pause. “I want to know how the mother died. And did you know about this?”

He shook his head. “I did not know, no.”

Amanda raised her eyebrows as she waited for the answer to her first question.

“The mother . . .” he started but stopped. Amanda wondered why it was difficult for him to speak of the child’s mother, his former lover from a one-night stand during his wild days. There had been no discussion between Alejandro and Amanda about this child. He had made just one mention of her, and that had been done in such a casual manner, back when Amanda first met him, that, frankly, Amanda had forgotten about the existence of his illegitimate daughter.

“Tell me.” She needed to know. The initial anger and hurt that she felt was countered only by her feelings of guilt. Why had she never inquired more about the child? How had she not known anything about that tryst? Why hadn’t he prepared her for the fact that the mother and child lived in Brazil? At least then she wouldn’t have been completely blindsided by this news.

“Drugs,” he finally admitted.

Drugs. Amanda took a deep breath. “I see,” she said, mustering the strength to remain calm. While what she imagined about the situation caused her considerable pain, she knew the truth was probably worse than anything she could envision.

Amanda shifted her body so that she faced the man and the child. Quickly, she assessed the situation, knowing that she could not question God’s will and that there was no sense in arguing with Alejandro. The child existed and needed help. Amanda could never live with herself if she knew that she was the reason a child had been sent to live in an orphanage. She hadn’t even thought that such places existed anymore, having never really considered that they were anything more than an unpleasant element of a fairy tale. Amish children always had relatives to care for them if anything tragic happened to a parent.

Love and strength, she repeated to herself.

Without another second’s hesitation, Amanda walked across the room and stood before the man and the child. She stretched out her hand, which, apprehensively, the man shook. His grip was weak, and there was sorrow etched in his face. Amanda then knelt down before the child and looked into her face. She was a pretty little girl, and those blue eyes stared right back at her.

Amanda held out her hand and gave a slight smile. “It is nice to meet you, Isadora,” she said softly.

The child startled at the sound of her name and looked up at her grandfather.

“She does not speak English,” Maria Fernanda said.

Amanda kept the smile on her face and continued to look at Isadora as she processed this new information. No English? Reaching out her hand, Amanda touched the girl’s shoulder and gently slid her hand down the length of her arm until her fingers touched Isadora’s hand. The girl looked back at her, a frightened expression on her cherubic face. Amanda couldn’t help but wonder what Isadora knew about the man who stood by the window, his back to the rest of the room.

Amanda walked back to the chair. She sat down and leaned forward, her attention on Maria Fernanda. “What is it that I must sign?” she asked. “And what should we know about Isadora?”

For the next thirty minutes, Amanda listened to Maria Fernanda, trying her best to comprehend what she was saying, despite the heavy accent and mispronounced words. The woman explained the different papers that granted legal guardianship under Brazilian law. When she finished, Maria Fernanda slid the papers across the coffee table in Amanda’s direction for her to sign. Amanda noticed that Alejandro had already signed them; the date next to his name reflected that he had met with the woman the previous day. Most likely, Amanda thought, after the show.

She wasn’t certain whether to be upset that Alejandro had not consulted her before signing. On the one hand, he accepted his responsibility. He could have never mentioned the situation to Amanda and merely sent Isadora to the orphanage. On the other hand, the fact that he had agreed to such a life-changing commitment without asking Amanda’s opinion concerned her. What would have happened if she had refused to sign the papers? It dawned on her that, as the stepmother, she had no legal responsibility for Alejandro’s daughter. If she hadn’t signed, Isadora would still be his responsibility and turned over to his care.

Once Amanda finished signing the paperwork, all of which she could not read because it was written in Portuguese, she handed it back to Maria Fernanda, who shuffled the papers into a neat pile and slid it into her briefcase. She stood up and looked down at Amanda for a moment before she turned to Alejandro and said something in Spanish. He replied and nodded. Whatever had transpired between them, this was the end of Maria Fernanda’s business with Isadora. She departed from the room, barely pausing to bid farewell to the grandfather and the child.

“Amanda . . .”

She shut her eyes and lifted her hand, a gesture that made him pause. She needed time to digest what had just occurred. And she certainly needed more time before she could speak to him with any trace of calmness in her voice. What she needed was time alone and time to pray. In just a matter of minutes, she had become a mother to a child who did not speak her language and was born out of a past love affair between her husband and a woman she did not know. Nor did he,
she reminded herself.