Facade (15 page)

Chapter Eighteen

“If there was ever a tailor made event for you, it would be a Masquerade party.” Nash gave Erik a thumbs-up. “Lookin’ good.”

Though used to wearing a mask the overwhelming majority of the time, the full-faced black domino mask he donned for the party was oddly confining. “I don’t remember the last time I went to any sort of function.”

“I do, it was before our nightmare, but now I’m thinking that this will end that part of your life.” Nash patted him on the shoulder.

Erik looked up at the night sky. “This is a special case.”

“Is the rest of your outfit one of our old costumes?” Nash stepped in front of him and crossed his arms.

With a shrug, Erik looked down at his clothes, all leather from head to toe, including gloves. He only hoped no one else recognized it. Not that it mattered, because there was no way in hell he was peeling himself out of this contraption to get into something else.

“I’m surprised it still fits you.” Nash glanced at his watch. “Maybe you should go get your girl.”

“Good call. Get the car, we’ll be right back.” Erik stretched and walked toward the theatre door.

“Maybe I can meet her some time,” Nash grumbled.

Rather than answer, he gave the man a wave. Maybe after this competition was over, maybe after he knew if she stayed, maybe after she saw him. There were too many maybes to think about, and he went inside.

“Erik, I need help!” Christine called out to him from the stage.

At the word coming from his Christine, he dashed to her, only to stop at the sight before him.

She managed to get herself in her dress, but couldn’t fasten the corseted back.

His mouth watering at the bare stripe of skin facing him, he stalked toward her. “You are presenting me with quite a conundrum.”

“What would that be?” As if to direct him, she moved her hair to one side.

He leaned in and kissed the back of her neck, causing her to shudder. “Do I fasten you or undress you? I know what I would rather do.”

“I promise I will let you unwrap me and do whatever you choose when we get home.” She chuckled.

Christine matched him sexually to a tee. “Fair enough, but remember, I’ll hold you to that.” Since he knew they had to leave, he laced her up then turned her and admired her in her form fitting Spanish senorita costume with black lace and red satin and ruffles. “My word, you are gorgeous.”

“You are hot.” Her gaze traveled over him.

Not used to any such compliment, he shook his head, helped her on with her black lace domino mask, and handed her the matching fan.

“Trust me on this one.” She flicked her fan open and touched her mask. “Now we match.”

Before responding, he took a breath trying to remember she didn’t mean her comment the way it sounded in his head. “Never wish for that, my dear.” He put her shawl around her shoulders and offered her his arm.

“I have everything I’ve ever wished for now.” She held him tight and allowed him to escort her out.

All he knew was he wanted to be everything for her. Still, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help wondering what would happen once she got her true taste of fame.

As he let her in the car, she stopped. “Do you think one day I may be able to meet our driver?”

As their relationship progressed, he knew her questions would intensify, something he wanted to avoid. “Do you think we can just live with the mystery a little longer?”

“As long as I have you, I know everything I need to know.” Without any more questions, she slid into the car.

If only life were as easy as her little statement. He knew eventually his answers would wear thin. Did he address them sooner or later? What if once he told her the truth he lost her?

“Erik.” She reached out to him.

Unable to resist the woman who wanted him, he got in the car, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her.

“I’m so glad we get to do this tonight.” She cuddled up to him.

A night out shouldn’t be an extraordinary event for someone like Christine. One day she would tire of life shut away in a theatre. With no words, he kissed her once more.

As if sensing he needed a little quiet, she kept hold of his hand.

On their drive over, he watched the streetlights dance off her face, and he was still staring at her by the time they stopped in front of the theatre.

“You all right?” She kissed him and wiped his lower lip with her fingertip.

Though he wanted to tell her he wanted to leave, tell her he didn’t want to go to the party, ask her why they couldn’t stay at the theatre and enjoy each other, he couldn’t relegate her to that life. She was a flower that needed light. “I just like looking at you.” At her smile, he got out of the car and escorted her inside, for the first time entering the theatre through the front doors.

The entire place was decorated with lights and ribbons in royal colors and strategically placed mirrors. Everyone was in costume, wearing fancy dresses and decorated masks. Uniformed waiters walked around with champagne and appetizers as loud music boomed all around them.

Almost instantly, Christine was inundated with people, all of whom he recognized. He only hoped his mask did a better job. She hugged and kissed her costars and a couple of the people who were eliminated. He had to say he appreciated the way she held on to his hand and took the time to introduce him to every single person. Fine, he also enjoyed the bit of pride in her voice and the way her hand skimmed over his back as she spoke, but couldn’t stop himself from wondering what would happen if they weren’t at a masquerade. What would happen when he didn’t fit in?

He played the role of dutiful partner, and while Christine chatted with one of the girls, he brought her a glass of champagne and some appetizers. Across the room, he spied Christine’s former band, and he hoped for their sake that tonight they kept their distance.

Together they shared a plate of treats and the director of the production approached them.

“Christine.” He shook her hand and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Excellent job last week. We’ve never had to have a contestant sing
a cappella
before.”

“Well, you can thank this man for his excellent training.” Christine coiled her arm around Erik’s and motioned to him. “May I introduce you to Erik, my manager and coach, and well…” She let out a little giggle. “Well, mine.”

In truth, Erik never had a better introduction, and he held his hand out.

“Erik. I feel like I know you.” The man shook his hand.

Erik froze. Did the man suspect who he was? He knew it was a risk coming here.

The director put his arm around Erik’s shoulders. “Not only are you Christine’s coach and Christine’s, but I also heard that you mix her music for her.”

Music. Mixing music. This person didn’t call him out for being a former has-been rock star. “In fact, I do.” He forced the words out.

“I wanted to talk to you.” The man corralled them over to one side. “Christine said you play all the instruments yourself. How did you get involved in the industry?”

Erik glanced over at Christine. She simply stood there, gazing up at him as if he could conquer the world. Now he had to make her look good. “I’ve played since I was a child. I was always told I had an ear for music, and learned to play the piano first, the other instruments followed.”

“Have you worked in the industry before?” The man motioned for one of the waiters and handed them each another glass of champagne.

Unsure what this man was trying to uncover, he took a breath. “I’ve done some song writing.” At least he wasn’t lying.

“We try to keep this competition as raw as possible. That’s why we allow them to bring their own music if they want, but once this is over I’d like to talk to you about possibly mixing some music for us. The way you put it together is spot on right for this show and some other projects I’m involved in.” The man reached in his pocket and handed him a business card. “Call me after the finale and let’s set up a meeting.”

Only because of the way Christine beamed did he take the card. “Thank you.”

“I’ll let you enjoy the party.” Again, the man shook his hand and then walked away.

“That’s really exciting.” Christine practically jumped.

What Christine didn’t realize was he couldn’t take the job. He couldn’t take any job. How would he walk into this man’s office? Unless they were having a masquerade meeting, how would he explain his appearance? The second he gave this man his last name any cover he had would be blown. Still, it was amazing to have a conversation with someone about business, about the industry he loved, and behave like a normal man with the woman he wanted above all else by his side. “Would you care to dance?”

“Let me just visit the ladies room real fast.” She put her drink on a table, leaned up on her toes to give him a kiss, and walked away.

Alone, he stayed on the perimeter of the crowd and took everything in.

That Carly person turned and stared at him from across the room.

He straightened up and crossed his arms. If she had something to say, he wanted her to bring it.

Done up in only what Erik would call an outfit fit for any low rent streetwalker, she sauntered over to him. “I hear you’re the one who helps Christine with her music.”

Rather than speak, he simply tapped his foot.

“What do I have to do to get you to do some arrangements for my band?” She stepped closer and smiled up at him. “My father is in the industry. I can help you.”

The woman reminded him of some of his groupies back in the day. Even with his facial situation, he had no doubt he could have her flat on her back in less time than it took Nash to drive back to the theatre, and the thought churned his stomach on multiple levels. “My dear, there is nothing I, or anyone else, can do to help you. My advice would be to get a true voice teacher or try a different vocation.”

From behind her mask, her eyes widened. “It seems you and Christine are a perfect fit.”

“Thank you.” Done with this triviality, he walked toward the woman’s restroom. Thankfully, Christine was on her way out, and she made her way right for him.

“I’m ready for my dance now.” She grabbed his hand.

“Then we shouldn’t delay.” He led her through the theatre to the stage, a makeshift dance floor and pulled her into his embrace.

Together, they swayed, letting the music be their guide.

“Thank you for taking me tonight. I feel like we are in this competition together. I couldn’t do it without you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body to his.

“Speaking of the competition, we still need to choose a song.” He had to admit he was a bit excited about the rock ballad.

“I had a thought about that.” Her face lit up.

All right. Honestly, when he said we, he meant him, but he would listen to her input. “Tell me.”

“I wanted to do something a bit harder, what about ‘Mystical Mayhem?’”

When her eyes met his, he knew she didn’t pick one of his songs, one of Spectre’s songs, by pure chance. He stopped their dance. Someone might as well have poured an ice cold bucket of water over him dousing him into reality. “Christine.”

“Erik.” She held up her hand. “I know who you are. You don’t have to hide from me.”

Expecting everyone to be staring at him, he glanced around the room. “I’m never going to be that Erik again. He doesn’t exist.”

“I don’t want that Erik, I want you,” she whispered.

Fine, if she wanted to do this here and now, he would do it. He took her by the shoulders. “You’ll want me until one day you realize you can’t change me and the world isn’t set up with masquerade parties. You’ll want me until one day you look at the four walls of the theatre and realize they’re not a home, they’re your prison.”

“What are you saying?” Tears sparkled in her eyes, and she shook her head. “The theatre’s my home. You’re my life. I love you.”

Her words hit him right in the chest, but he had to be strong. “You think you do.”

“Are you leaving me?” She let go of him. Though she wore heavy makeup, her complexion paled.

“I’ll never leave you. I won’t have to.” He shook his head. “One day you’ll do the leaving.”

She stepped back. “I found out days ago who you were, and I didn’t want there to be any secrets between us, but you’re the one holding back from me.”

“What do you want me to do, Christine? This is who I am.” To prove his point, he looked down at himself.

“I want to see all of you. I want you to let me prove I’m not leaving. I want you to remember who said she loved you.” Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and walked away.

He watched her leave and then followed. What else could he do?

Chapter Nineteen

“Erik?” Christine tiptoed across the stage. It was almost time to go to the show and while he normally waited for her here, this time he was nowhere to be found. “Erik?”

“I’ll be there in a moment.” Erik’s voice rang through the theatre. More like snapped.

Since the night of the masquerade, they hadn’t really talked. Yes, they practiced, yes, Erik came to her bed every night, yes, they lived together, ate together, did everything together, but they weren’t together, not like before.

For the millionth time since she mentioned the Spectre song, her stomach twisted into a knot, make that a double knot, one that made her want to vomit, and with heat taking over her, she stepped outside the theatre to wait for Erik.

Their car was there. That both surprised her, and didn’t surprise her at all. What did surprise her was their driver was there as well, sitting in plain view with the window rolled down. In fact, the man waved to her.

At least she now knew why Erik chose to hide this person from her. Where Erik had his mask to conceal his identity, this man with his dark hair combed off to one side, his long angular face, and that rocker chic aura was instantly recognizable to anyone who was ever a fan of Spectre. She approached the car and held out her hand. “Nash Cinder.”

“No, I’m Nash Cinder, you must be Christine Day.” He shook her hand and gave her a smile that produced a little dimple on only one side of his mouth. “Good to finally meet you.”