* * *
Brava! Brava! Brava!
It was a triumph.
Later the critics would write:
“The luminous varnish of Shore’s legendary voice swept effortlessly from honeyed, pianissimo hushes to fortissimo screams of blistering rage.”
“Shore was incandescent, capturing the astonishingly brilliant high C-flats that only a handful of mezzos have been brave enough to attempt.”
“‘A lui vivo, la tomba!’ was crystalline perfection.”
“Shore claimed the role of Amneris as few have ever done. Decades from now, an old man will tell a young opera fan, ‘Ah, but if only you could have heard the great Olivia Shore sing Amneris.’”
La Belle Tornade was at the top of her game. Doing what she lived for.
And it wasn’t enough.
22
Olivia went through the motions of greeting her guests backstage, all the while hoping Thad would appear. She’d delivered the performance of a lifetime and longed to share that with him.
Flowers arrived, more well-wishers poured into her dressing room. Mitchell Brooks had tears in his eyes. Sergio held her so tightly he nearly crushed her ribs. It wasn’t until the last guest had left and she’d removed her makeup that she accepted the fact Thad wasn’t coming backstage to see her.
Sarah appeared, dressed in street clothes with her face scrubbed. She’d dodged Olivia after the final curtain, and now she regarded her warily. “Don’t be mad at me. It was his idea.”
“I know it was. His latest version of making me sing on one leg.”
“What?”
“Never mind.” She saw no reason to go into Thad’s theory about elite athletes choking under pressure from various mental blocks. That kiss had given her something else to focus on besides waiting for her voice to fail her. She was fairly certain she could have delivered a strong performance without their shenanigans, but she couldn’t deny that the sight of the two of them locked together had been the perfect image to plant in her brain and carry with her onstage.
She smiled at Sarah. “I hope you enjoyed every second.”
“You’re not upset?”
She pulled on the purple hoodie she’d worn to the theater. “I know you both too well to have bought your act for even a second, but it did seem to go on longer than necessary.”
Sarah’s grin was pure mischief. “He really is a good kisser.”
“And I’m sure you are, too. Don’t try it again.”
Sarah leaned against the doorjamb. “You killed it tonight.”
“I’m not the only one.” Sarah had sung her heart out. Never had their onstage chemistry been so electric.
Sarah ran a hand through her hair. “He didn’t come backstage, did he? He’s probably afraid you’ll kill him.”
“I doubt that.” Thad would surely have known she’d see through his performance, and it wasn’t fear of retribution that had kept him away.
“You’re a strange person, Olivia,” Sarah said. “Any other woman would be clawing my eyes out right now.”
Olivia smiled. “I know who my friends are.”
Sarah shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. “I called Adam’s sisters and told them everything.”
“I can’t imagine that was an easy conversation.”