Free Take Me in the Dark by Karina Ashe

repeat.
    “Yes.” He moves his hand from my shoulder to the small of my back. “Are you frightened?”
    I am frightened. It wouldn’t surprise me if I looked frightened, too. But I probably don’t look nearly as frightened as he looked creepy.
    I let go of the doorknob and sidestep out of his reach. “I am just a singer.”
    He closes in on me again. “Are you?”
    What he hell is that supposed to mean? “Look, I don’t mean to offend you…”
    He grins. “But you’re going to?”
    “Well, I don’t know for sure, but I just don’t mean to, if I do…” I was babbling, and the light in his eyes suggested he enjoyed it. “Um, look sir—”
    “Sir,” he interrupts. It isn’t his voice that stops me from continuing, but the dark look in his eyes. “I thought I’d have to wait a long time to hear you call me that.”
    Okay, what? WHAT? Why the hell did I let that Bernard guy take my purse? I need Dolly’s fan!
    He chuckles. “You have such an expressive face. I’d love to get to know you a little better.”
    Damn. I don’t want him to enjoy this, whatever ‘this’ is. At least I don’t think I want him to. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
    “Does that mean you don’t want to dance?”
    Yes! That’s exactly what it means! “It just means that I don’t want to get distracted. I’m here to do my job, and then I need to get home.” That’s the truth. Mostly. I decide to leave out the fact I didn’t want to get too close to this creeper.
    He smiles again, and I get the feeling that he’s thinking of his words. They come slowly. “I’ll remember that, little Nightingale.”
    His strange endearment leaves me cold. Thankfully, the door I’d previously clung to for dear life opens. The man who brought me here—Bernard—pokes his head out.
    Bernard looks at me, then at my strange suitor. “Am I interrupting something?”
    No! Take me to the dressing room!
    “Unfortunately, no,” the man says. He gives me a thoughtful glance. “I look forward to your performance.”
    Well, it doesn’t creep me out at all that his guy will be watching.
    The man then leaves without looking back and walks into the center of a group of smiling, chatting people. He says something when he joins them, and they laugh.
    Bernard touches my shoulder. “Miss?”
    I blush, realizing that I was staring, and allow Bernard to usher me through the door. It’s almost time for me to sing.

Chapter 9
    Since we’re behind schedule, I only spend about fifteen minutes in the dressing room before Bernard takes me to the stage. The blood red material clings to my skin. I grip the black curtains as I wait on the side to go out. I want nothing more than to bite my lips, but I don’t. They’re painted red to match my dress so no one will look away when I sing.
    I wouldn’t mind if people looked away—if they didn’t watch at all—even though I’d never looked more beautiful in my life. But everything about this evening seems like a prettily dressed-up lie. I can’t wait to get home.
    A large man with a happy disposition finishes his speech and holds out his arm. A spotlight swings to my side of the curtain. I think of my friends smiling, encouraging faces and what they’d say to reassure me.
    It’s go time .
    Yes, that’s exactly what Dolly would say. I step out with a small smile.
    My dress shimmers and constricts my movements as I walk out. The straps of my heels dig into my ankles. It kind of hurts. My smile falters. I try to think of my friend’s faces again, but the spotlight shines too brightly in my eyes.
    It doesn’t matter, Laura. There’s no turning back .
    The large man steps aside and I take center stage. I sit in the small, hard chair and he hands me my cello. My shaky breathing reverberates through the room. You’re too close to the mic. Relax . I nod to him but he’s already walking off stage, leaving me alone.
    I still haven’t looked at the audience, partially because I don’t want to