I look back at him, waiting for him to continue.
“It would give you a get out clause. You didn’t shoot him. You’re not looking for war. She shot him for revenge. You happen to step into his shoes and run both families from now on but you didn’t whack him so you can’t get the blame.”
“I’m not sending her in there with a gun. Hell, she’s never even fired one before. What if she misses?” The thought doesn’t bear thinking about.
“You could get her to shoot point blank,” Albert adds as if he’s liking the idea. “Got to admit, it does give you plausible deniability.”
“I’m not making her shoot him.”
“She’s part of the business now. Why not get her made?”
“We’ll talk about this later.”
I look at the stage. As if on cue, the lights come up. The curtain lifts to reveal an empty microphone. She’s not there. Has she bottled it before she’s even begun?
I get to my feet, heading backstage only to find her pacing up and down in the corridor near the dressing rooms. “You’re on,” I tell her. “Time to shine.”
She spins around to face me, looking wired. She’s got a gorgeous thigh cut red dress like a second skin. It’s sparkling even in the shitty backstage lights. I get a sudden urge to fuck her without saying another word. Rip the dress from her body and ravage her.
“I can’t do this,” she says to me, shaking her head. “What if they hate me? How did I let you talk me into this? I can’t do it. I can’t sing.”
“You can,” I say, taking her hands in mine. “I heard you singing, remember? You’re good.”
“I’m not.”
“They’re going to love you.”
“What if they boo? I can’t do this, Ricardo. I’m sorry but I can’t.”
“Don’t sing for them,” I tell her, looking straight into her eyes. I’ll be on the table at the front. You sing to me. Don’t take your eyes off me. Got it?”
She looks at me, swallowing hard. “Eyes on you.”
“You can do this. Now get on stage before I have to go up there and sing to keep them happy and trust me, my voice ain’t no good next to yours.”
She manages a smile, throwing her arms around my shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispers in my ear and part of my heart thaws, a part I didn’t know existed anymore.
“You’re welcome,” I say back, letting her go and watching as she turns from me.
“She looks back. “I can do this, right?”
“Sure you can. They’re going to love you.”
She walks off and I head back out. By the time I’m back at my table, she’s coming out onto the stage to a round of applause. No one knows what’s she capable of but they’re willing to give her a chance.
She heads up to the microphone, looking down at her feet. She takes another deep breath, opens her mouth and starts to sing.
The whole place goes quiet. She’s got a voice like an angel but better than at my place. The sound fills the entire club and sends a shiver down my spine. I look up at her. She’s staring back at me, singing her heart out like it’s just the two of us in the room. It’s an old gospel tune but the way she sings, it sounds brand new. I can’t take my eyes off her.
The world comes to a halt. I think about nothing but her and the song. It’s only when I hear the applause that I realize she’s finished. She runs off without a word. Not even a bow.
I head backstage again. She’s there and I think she’s upset but she’s beaming when she sees me. “I did it,” she says, throwing her arms around me again. “I can’t believe I did it.”
“You’re supposed to do five songs.”
“Oh, shit.” She blushes, giggles, and then runs back toward the stage.
I head back out and listen to the rest of the show. She’s better than I hoped and the club thinks so too. The clapping and cheering get louder with each song. When she’s finally done, she doesn’t run off this time. She stands there beaming, bowing to the entire room.