Take Me in the Dark (7 page)

I jump as he shuts the door. “Sit down.”

I do, taking my time. “You’re kinda freaking me out Mr. Cade.”

He sits at his desk in front of me and folds his hands. “I don’t mean to startle you, Laura. Are you comfortable?”

Sort of, but definitely not now that you asked me!
“Could you just tell me what this is all about?”

“Yes, sorry.” He reaches into his desk. “I received a call from someone who saw your performance at the Guchenberg.”

My heart pounds.
Oh shit. Someone saw me making out with David on that table and what we did was a biohazard because they were going to lay food out on it!
“Is that so?” I try to keep my voice nonchalant.

“Yes. They want you to perform at a Christmas charity dinner in two weeks.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. Unfortunately, during that moment he keeps talking.

“I know it’s the week before finals, but if you think you can work it, it will be a fantastic opportunity.” He slides the paper he retrieved from his drawer across the the top of the desk. “They’re offering $2,000.”

“$2,000?”

He nods.

“How long is the concert?”

“You’re not the only one performing, so only twenty minutes.”

My heart speeds up as I do a quick calculation. “Oh my god, that’s like $500 each for a twenty minute set?”

“No. It’s $2,000 for a twenty minute set. The rest of
Bruigh na Boinne
are not involved. They only wanted you.”

I grab the page. “This doesn’t make sense,” I whisper, but it’s all there on paper. The charity is to benefit children’s leukemia, and only my name is on the paper.
Laura
. “Do they really want me to sing? I’m not even a singer.”

“Well, I think they want you to play the cello too. They wanted a mix of what you did with
Bruigh na Boinne,
but have also requested a few specific ones. You’ll have to change the arrangements for the
Bruigh na Boinne,
songs, of course.”

I set the paper down on my lap and look up. “I don’t understand why they’d want only me.”

Professor Cade shrugs. “I can’t answer that, though I think this will be a good opportunity for you. A lot of your confidence comes from being able to perform with the other girls.”

“Thanks for pointing that out.”

He smiles. “So I think it would be good for you to stand on your own. What do you want me to tell them?”

I glance down, realizing that all this time I’ve been nervously folding the corner of the page. Strange. I didn’t notice that before. David’s words come back to haunt me.
How did he see you? He sounds like a stalker
. And,
He was probably there that night. You might have even seen him
.

I remember the intensity of that strange man’s blue eyes and shiver.
That’s impossible, Laura. Why would he ask for you after all this time? Stop engaging in these masochistic fantasies.
Still, I ask, “Who asked for me?”

“Oh, right.” Professor Cade searches through a few drawers for a piece of paper. “It’s around here somewhere.”

It feels like an hour passes before he finds it. “Here’s the name of the performance coordinator.”

I glance at the small business card. It’s pale blue and has a picture of a big, happy daffodil in the corner.
Beatrice Miller
. A woman’s name, not a man’s. “Was she the one who saw me at the Guchenberg?”

“I don’t think so, but she’s in charge of coordinating the event. She said you’re free to contact her with any questions.”

I fist the business card and stuff it in my pocket. “No, that’s alright.” I take a deep breath and swallow. “I think I’ll take it.”

The night of the charity concert comes faster than I could have ever imagined. Between practicing for my twenty minute set and finals, I have no free time. David has been amazingly supportive. Then again, maybe he’s just giving me the space I need to think everything over. I get a rush every time I see him. Heat fills my cheeks as I remember that day in his room, the strength of his hands as they hold back my legs, the soft, warmth of his tongue as he kisses me so sweetly and so agonizingly that I fall apart in his arms.

He hasn’t made a move on me since then. I think he’s waiting for some cue from me, or maybe he’s giving me space until I after the concert. It doesn’t matter, though. That memory is like a living, breathing thing between us. I read my own dark fantasies into his eyes when they linger too long on my neck or lips, and I know he does the same when I shiver whenever he touches my shoulder. Neither of us can forget what happened even if we wanted to; no matter what happens next, there’s no going back to the way things were.

My shadow lover hasn’t come back. He hasn’t even written. I’d like to say that I’ve stopped checking my mailbox every morning, but I haven’t. I don’t know what to think about that, either.

I pack up my books near my locker and try to quiet my nerves. Dolly has been teaching me these breathing exercises she does right before she goes out on stage. Unfortunately they aren’t working…though that could be because I’ve been really self-conscious about doing it ever since Cassie said it made me look like a fish.

“Hey.”

I freeze up and dart around at the sound of David’s voice. “Hey,” I squeak, then wonder why my voice sounds so weird until I realize I’m doing a fish face.

David gives me the kind of grin that I’ve come to know means he’s silently laughing inside.

“You’re so mean,” I tell him.

“I am?”

“Yeah. You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing,” he says. Unfortunately, stringing that many words together does make him chuckle at the end.

“See?”

“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath. “I knew how cute you were was gonna get me in trouble.”

I don’t have a response for that.

David catches my hand. “I wish I was going with you tonight.”

I squeeze his hand. “Me too.”

“You sure they won’t let you take a roadie?”

I cock my head to the side, grinning. “Just for a cello?”

“Hey, these hands are precious,” he whispers, bringing my knuckles to his lips.

I shiver everywhere. The softness of his lips remind me of the way he kissed, and…Oh God I’m making fish face again!

“Is something wrong?”

Great. Fish face strikes again. “No, I’m just worried about tonight.”

“You’re going to do great.”

“I hope so.”

He gives my hand a squeeze. “I know so. What you should really be worried about is your Music Theory final. I think I’m finally going to score higher than you.”

“Yeah right,” I say haughtily, then amend, “but even if you do, it’s only because I’ve been too busy to study as thoroughly as I should.”

He puts his hand over his heart dramatically. “Oh Laura, you’re not even going to let me enjoy beating you this one time?”

“You haven’t beat me yet!”

“But I have a chance.”

“Only because I’m super busy, so does that even count as you really beating me?”

He laughs. “You’re so cruel.”

“No I’m not! I would be cruel if I still beat you on that final despite my hectic schedule and decided to rub in the fact that I won.”

He sighs and stops laughing. “You’re going to do that, aren’t you?”

I can’t help but grin. “Hey, only if I beat you, which I probably won’t because you’re studying so hard, right?”

“You know, I am studying pretty hard. Maybe you shouldn’t be so confident.”

“Really? Want to bet?”

My heart skips a beat. His eyes fill with heat. “If I win, I’ll take you out somewhere to celebrate,” he says.

I know I should say something, but my words fail me. I’m instantly transported back into that moment. I remember how large he was in my hand, the feeling of his skin gathering beneath my palm as I gripped him and pulled up. I remember the vow he somehow kept:
I’ll only kiss you
. And I remember how deep a kiss can be. How a single kiss can shatter you. The reverent look in his eyes as he looked up at me, between my legs, tongue gently exploring the most sensitive areas of my body.

He steps closer. I step back. “Okay,” I whisper, “but if I win, then I get to cook you something. Maybe at your place.”

David goes still, but his eyes burn with such intensity that for a second I think he’s going to push me up against the lockers and take me right here in front of everybody. It’s just wrong how much that thought thrills me.

“You know, I’m kind of hoping that you’ll beat me now.” He flashes a cocky smile. “Good luck tonight, Laura. You’re gonna do great, I wish I could be there to see it.”

I try to sit still as Dolly and Anna fuss over my makeup while Cassie reads the “To be or not to be” speech from
Hamlet
out loud for inspiration. My left leg starts to shake around “puzzles the will.” Unfortunately, it is at this moment that Anna is leaning over with the mascara wand. I hit her shin, and the mascara wand she’s holding hits my eye.

“Damn!” I blink rapidly as Dolly and Anna grab my hands before I can ball them up and rub my eyes.

“Ouch,” I whine.

Anna looks like she’s about to cry. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” I tell her. “Cass is the one who did it.”

Cassie scowls. “What the hell? No I didn’t. Anna did.”

“Anna did that because I kicked her,” I begin.

“Then it’s your fault,” Cassie replies.

“No it isn’t!” I claim. “I only kicked her because the speech you’re reading—which I do
not
understand, by the way—is depressing me.”

“So why didn’t you kick me then?” Cassie asks.

“Get over here and I will!”

“Alright you two!” Dolly yells. “Anna,
jojoba
oil and cotton balls, stat. And Cassie, I also have no idea what your babbling about, but I’m pretty sure it’s the worst motivational speech in the history of ever.”

I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. “Yeah. I don’t want to suffer any slings or arrows tonight. Seriously, if I suffer something like that, then something went seriously, unbelievably, outrageously wrong.”

“I’ll agree that the content isn’t inspiring, but isn’t it inspiring to hear what many consider to be one of the greatest soliloquies in the English language?” Cassie defends.

“No,” Dolly, Anna and I yell at her.

Cassie pouts. “This is no fun. You guys get to do her makeup and I’m stuck in the corner.”

“Didn’t you say you had a paper to write?” I ask.

“Yeah but…” she throws the book down and shoots up. “Alright Anna, hand over the eyeliner. I’m gonna fix the mess that Hamlet made.”

Dolly laughs. “Your blaming this on Hamlet now?”

“Yeah, that guy was a dick,” Cassie says as she drops down on one knee. “Fuck. Do we still only have fifteen minutes?”

“Oh my God, that is so not helping,” Dolly says.

“Does it really look that bad?” I ask, trying to keep my stabbed eye from watering and failing miserably.

“Don’t worry. We’ll fix it.” Anna soothes.

Guess I look like shit
.

Still, they somehow pulled through. Two minutes before my ride shows up I have my purse slung over my shoulder and am at the door, saying goodbye to my friends.

I kiss Dolly on the cheek. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I whisper.

“Oh, it will be wonderful,” she laughs, pushing me to the door. “I can’t believe they’re offering you so much money.”

“It makes me feel uncomfortable,” I admit.

“It should make you feel rich!” Cassie does her best to sing. It doesn’t end well. “You’re taking all of us out to dinner when you get back.”

“And coffee in the morning!” Anna adds. “Oh, I wish I could go. Singing on a boat! It all sounds so romantic.”

“Yeah. Romantic. You might need this,” Dolly mutters, handing me an antique fan. “Swat away any old man’s hands if he decides to show you a little romance.”

I laugh.

“She’s gonna need something much bigger than that if she wears the dress they gave her,” Cassie says.

My cheeks turn red at the mention of the dress. As red as
that
dress, in fact. I’d done my best to forget that I was wearing it, which was a feat considering it hugged every inch of my body, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Oh, stop teasing her you guys,” Anna says, pulling me into a hug. “We’re all just so happy for you.”

I can’t help but smile. At first, all the happiness directed at me made me feel like an egotistical bitch. Then Dolly pointed out that it’s even more bitchy to pout when good stuff is happening to you, especially if the good stuff is stuff others would kill for. So, I decided to graciously enjoy all the warm and squishy feelings coming my way.

“Remember to breathe,” Dolly says.

“But don’t make a fish face!” Cassie adds.

Dolly pushes her shoulder. “She does not look like a fish.”

“Yes she does!”

“No she doesn’t!”

“I’ll breathe and won’t look like a fish,” I tell them.

Anna pulls me into a hug. “I love you. Knock ‘em dead!”

“Thanks you guys.” We have one last group hug before heading downstairs.

The ride to the boat is like a dream. It had just stopped raining, and the dazzling city lights sparkle in puddles. The driver held the door open for me and then carried my cello to the car. He was an older, jovial gentleman with a British accent and made me feel like royalty.