Free Take Me in the Dark by Karina Ashe Page B

so hot as I do it. Why something that is so routine—in fact, it marks the end of every performance—feels so wrong in this instance.
    I finish bowing. The man’s hand moves to my back. This time, nothing about him feels soft or reassuring as he leads me off the stage.
    The next act is lined up and ready to go on stage—three blonds in elegant evening gowns.
    “Good luck,” I murmur.
    “Thank you.” They grin at me, then at each other. “We hope we do half as well as you did!”
    Bernard appears at my side and raises his eyebrows. “Oh sorry…” I begin, but the girls aren’t listening; they’re being escorted offstage.
    “Let me,” Bernard says, taking my cello from my hand. “We should get out of the way.”
    Without another word, Bernard swerves left and leads me down a small staircase. Caterers and waitresses rush up and down, knocking their trays against my arms. He stops in front of a small door with the word office engraved on the door in gold lettering.
    “Come on,” the voice of an older woman says.
    Bernard shrugs as he opens the door. An older woman with angular, lime green glasses and a silver pixie cut glares at him. “Were you really even thinking of making me get up and come over there, Barnie?”
    “Don’t know what came over me, Bea.”
    “I know what came over you,” Bea mutters, pushing her glasses to the tip of her nose. She opens a drawer to her left and begins to leafed through it. “Let’s see here. Laura, isn’t it?”
    It takes a moment to realize she’s talking to me. “Uh, yes ma’am.”
    “Ma’am,” Bea laughs. “I must be getting old. And don’t either of you reply to that statement. It will just insult me.”
    “She’s difficult to deal with when she’s insulted,” Bernard whispers.
    “Hey, I’m old, not deaf!” She groans as she leans over the desk. “Here’s your check, sweetie.”
    My hand slides over a cream linen envelope.
    Bea leans back and sets her spectacles straight. “You can check it if you’d like.”
    “Oh,” I swallow. Though it feels gauche, I part the unsealed envelope and peek inside. $2,000 . For a moment, I don’t breathe. The money doesn’t seem real yet. It doesn’t feel like what I just did was worth $2,000.
    “Did you have fun, sweetie?” Bea’s soft voice cuts through my thoughts. I realize I’m standing in the middle of this woman’s office, gawking.
    “It was wonderful.” I’m realizing that I’m toying with the edges of the linen envelope and tell myself to stop.
    “I’m glad. I’ve heard good things about you, wish I could have seen it.” With that, she returns to her work.
    Something about her comment doesn’t sound right. “Wait, didn’t you see us at the Guchenberg?”
    Bea’s perfectly manicured eyebrows frown at me. “You think I was invited to that?” she flashes a bright smile. “I just organize these events, hun. I don’t go to them.”
    Bernard was grinning too. “Yeah. They’d call the cops if she showed up.”
    Bea gasps in mock outrage. “What the hell is up with you tonight, boy?”
    “Sorry, sorry,” Bernard’s grin deepens as he backs away to the door. “We should probably go. You can escape, but I’ve got to deal with her all night.”
    I feet refuse to follow. Bea didn’t see me at the Guchenberg. So who invited me to sing? And why did they want me to come alone? “Um, Mrs Miller?”
    Bea turns her attention to me. “Yeah sweetie?”
    My toes curl. I’m suddenly nervous and I don’t understand why. “If you didn’t ask me to come here…do you know who did?”
    “One moment.” She opens the drawer again and searches for my file, then pulls it out. “Well, look here. I’ve got your social, the name of the contact for your school, your home phone number…huh.” She bites her perfectly painted red bottom lip. “Sorry hun. Don’t have that information. But they were probably with the group that asked for you at the Guchenberg, right?”
    “Yeah, that’s