“So, Sydney, I don’t have to tell you how important tonight’s show is. Mr. Heston is a busy man and this hotel is a reflection on him, so everything needs to be perfect tonight.” Ummm, not too much pressure.
Lyle walked back around the desk and motioned his arm that he was finished. I was a minion who was being dismissed. “I’ll be at your performance tonight also. Break a leg Sydney.”
Great, I thought, now I have to change up my performance for the old rich guy. What does one sing to a wealthy old man? I suddenly had pictures of myself dressing up in the infamous white Marilyn Monroe dress and softly singing Happy Birthday Mr. President to a seventy five year old crotchety hotel mogul sitting with a twenty year old ditzy buxom blonde clinging to his arm.
As if she was reading my mind, my phone buzzed with a text from Sienna. Hey rock chick, plans for tonight? Let’s go to that Piano Bar on 55th when you get off for a few? I’m having Syd withdrawals. U up for it?
Her texts always brightened my day.
When I was with Michael, he would get annoyed at how often we would text back in forth, but it never stopped us. Sounds good.
BTW what do I perform for an old rich hotel mogul that is coming to see my show tonight?
Two seconds later. Oral sex, man’s favorite performance at any age.
I walked right into that one. While that’s tempting, I was thinking more along the lines of a singing performance than a humming one.
He’s old huh? Since you’ve been gone…Aretha baby. Your voice kicks that song’s ass! XOXO Meet you at midnight?
Perfect, thanks! TTYL Xo Syd I went about my routine and did a few practice songs when the band arrived. They were impressed with my rendition of Since You’ve Been Gone, so I was glad that Sienna has suggested it. I wasn’t really nervous about singing in front of Mr. Heston, I had sang in front of large crowds and I didn’t often get stage fright. But the reality was that I was broke, and his opinion mattered because I needed my job. I was an idiot about my fin-ances when I left Michael. I left him everything, even our joint savings account.
At the time, it was a pride thing; I didn’t want to admit that I needed anything from him or us, so I left with just my clothes. Now I was starting to think that taking half the savings and some of the furniture would have been the smarter thing to do. But it was too late now, and I was determined to make it on my own one way or another.
***
The crowd started to roll in slowly during my first set. I wasn’t sure what Mr. Heston looked like, but I didn’t see anyone that could be him. I knew Lyle would be making a big fuss over him and the staff was all on high alert to attend to his every need.
Two songs into my second set, I spotted Lyle sitting at a table set in the front, a little bit off to the side. He must have had come in on my break, because I hadn’t notice him earlier. He was sitting with a man older than him, but not quiet the definition of a crotchety old hotel mogul that was in my head. The man was probably in his fifties, with salt and pepper hair and masculine strong features. He was distinguished and handsome and his face was vaguely familiar, although I couldn’t place where I knew him from. I thought perhaps that the two men were still waiting for Mr. Heston and the other gentleman was also an employee of Heston Hotels.
A few songs later I was near the end of my set and there was still no sign of Mr. Heston. I belted out the Aretha song that I had added for the old man and said goodnight to the crowd. On the weekends, the band had to stay to play for another hour, but after my singing ended, they took the volume down and stuck to background music.
Lyle called from his table, as I was leaving the stage. The man truly had no manners, how difficult would it have been to walk a few steps over to me and ask me over to his table. Pushing my thoughts of the pompous ass aside, I put on my best fake smile and walked to his table. The gentleman that he was seated with stood as I approached, forcing Lyle to follow suit, which I secretly enjoyed. Lyle would never have thought to stand when a woman approached on his own.
“Sydney, this is Mr. Heston.” I looked to the gentleman and tried to hide my surprise. Damn, the old guy was even better up close. He had light green eyes that stood out against his tan skin, which I hadn’t noticed earlier because of the light glare on stage.
“Hello, nice to meet you Mr. Heston.” We shook hands and Lyle invited me to sit with them.
“What can I get you to drink Sydney?” Mr. Heston ignored Lyle’s empty glass in front of him when the waitress approached.
“Just a water, please. My throat needs to cool down after I perform and adding alcohol has the opposite effect.” I felt the need to give an explanation so I wouldn’t insult the man who stood between me and paying my rent next month.
He nodded and gave his order for scotch to the waitress. Lyle began talking about the upcoming annual Heston shareholder meeting and how honored I should be that Mr. Heston had taken time out of his busy schedule to come see me sing. I nodded and smiled and did my best to look interested as he spoke. But I found the way that Mr. Heston was looking at me to be distracting. It wasn’t lewd or improper; rather I got the feeling he was looking for something in me, watching me, observing.
At some point, Mr. Heston got bored of Lyle talking too and I was grateful when he interrupted him mid sentence. “I really enjoyed your show Sydney, how would you like to perform at our annual shareholder meeting next week? We were supposed to have some famous boy band, but I hate that crap and I find you to be captivating when you sing. I know it’s short notice, but if you are free next weekend, I’ll messenger over a contract tomorrow and let my assistant know about the change.”
“Wow, that sounds great. I have a few things lined up for next weekend, but I’m sure I can rearrange them.” Damn it, I’d have to rearrange that bubble bath I was planning on taking next weekend. No one wants an artist that isn’t in demand.
He smiled at me and threw back his drink. He stood, giving me a glimpse of the rest of him, and I couldn’t help but notice the whole package was pretty damn good. Tall, fit and broad shouldered. He wore low hanging navy blue trousers and a French blue tailored dress shirt that looked as if he had recently opened the collar and removed the tie. If only I was a few years older.
“It was very nice to meet you Sydney.
He leaned in close as he shook my hand and lowered his voice. “And I’m a big Aretha fan, so let’s keep that one for next week, shall we?” He winked and released my hand. I watched as he left, and the view was as good going as it was coming.