2. Chapter 2
Chapter two
Under the warm glow of the spotlight, the world beyond its bright borders dissolved into shadows, leaving Golden alone only with the piano's melancholy melody for company. Opening her mouth, the first notes of the song spilled out, each word perfectly synced with the opening chords.
The song, Autumn Leaves , was one of her favorites. The low tones and the harmonic complexity called to her. The music flowed through her easily. She pitched her voice perfectly, filling it with the rich emotion an older jazz song like this required. Lifting her gaze, Golden let it pass over the lounge audience although she couldn't see much with the bright lights. Nearing the song's end, she let the low sultry notes dance in the air as she swept her gaze upward. There was someone in Le Palais's VIP balcony tonight. The exorbitantly priced French restaurant of the hotel had a small balcony that overlooked the lounge allowing its diner to view the stage far above the crowd. Normally, the balcony was empty, but tonight a shadowed figure sat at the table.
Looking back down in front of her, Golden lifted one arm dramatically, the long satin glove no doubt catching the light as she finished singing the last chord of the song.
As the last note trembled into the silence, a stillness enveloped the room. The spotlight began to fade away and the house lights gently began to return to a warm glow. For a heartbeat, time paused as she viewed the audience's faces, then, as if awakening from a dream, the crowd erupted in applause.
Smiling, Golden thanked the audience and turned to the band behind her and thanked them as well before exiting the stage with a final wave to everyone. A part of her always felt a little silly waving like Miss America but the thought of not waving felt far worse.
Stepping down into a hidden area that was somewhat behind the stage and near the bar's back entrance, Golden ran into Lenny, the stage manager. He was coming toward her carrying a bouquet of flowers.
Lenny handed her the flowers with a smile. "Absolutely wonderful Golden. You wowed them again. Stanley can't stop talking about his luck hiring you. So glad you ditched New York and came back home." Lenny was about to say more but paused and looked off at nothing for a moment before frowning suddenly. Pressing the button on the long cord that hung from his headset to his waistband, he spoke into the mic. "I said in ten minutes!"
Walking away, he gave her one last thumbs-up before marching off. No doubt talking to the club's lighting technician, Golden mused.
She looked down at the flowers in her hand. Deep red roses and pink peonies all clustered beautifully together wrapped in black tissue paper and tied with a red velvet ribbon. They were beautiful. Turning them over, she looked for a card but found none.
Golden furrowed her brow in confusion and looked back through the small part in the heavy curtains at the crowd. No one looked as if they were waiting for her and Lenny never said who they came from. Maybe she would see whoever it was on her way out.
Mentally shrugging it off, Golden made her way to the dressing rooms in the back. The women's dressing room was just as luxurious as the rest of the hotel, a feature she appreciated wholeheartedly. Setting her flowers onto the makeup table, she turned to the huge rack in the corner hosting dozens of beautiful designer gowns. Tonight, she was wearing a red strapless ball gown, black gloves, and heels. Alana, another performer she had met two weeks ago when Golden first got hired for the job, had begged her to wear the dress.
"It will go great with your complexion and dark curls. You have to wear it or I will just die."
Golden smiled at the memory. She hadn't known the girl long but she could already tell she was a drama queen in the best way.
Peeling out of the dress and gloves, she placed everything onto the empty rack next to the full one. A little sign dangled off the metal bar reading "Dry Cleaning." God, this place was great, she thought with a big sigh. Hell, they didn't even have anything like this at Juilliard for god's sake and students spent a fortune to go there.
A creeping tendril of bitterness crept into her mind as she recalled her former institute. "It's in the past, Golden," she angrily reminded herself as she jumped to get her jeans over her ass.
Cutting off the negative ruminating before it really got going, she slipped on her old Imagine Dragons concert t-shirt and grabbed her purse and her flowers on her way out. The bouquet crinkled in her arms as she panic-checked her watch. It was nearly nine-thirty, she had to hustle.
For a brief second, she hedged on taking the back exit for staff or leaving through the front which would take her past the stage and the small sea of tables of the lounge area and through the hotel's lobby and out the front. It would be so much faster if she took the back exit but she glanced back down at the flowers in her arm and felt a tinge of guilt. Whoever gave her these spent real money on them. The least she could do was try to meet them and thank them.
Stepping through to the lounge, Golden spotted Lenny leaning against the bar with one foot on the rung and scribbling on his clipboard. Perfect!
"Lenny," she stage-whispered just as the band was starting up again. Lenny gave her a questioning look. "Did you see who gave you these or…" She held out a hand in a sign of confusion and Lenny shook his head.
"No. Security told me a guest wanted to give that to you, that's all," he said, looking down at his watch. His eyes went wide. "You need to hurry or you're gonna miss the bus, girl."
Looking at her own watch, Golden groaned. She had three minutes to get outside and across the street before the bus came and went. Thanking him, she rushed out, smiling at patrons who caught her gaze as she went. Waving at the lobby reception agent and the security guard who opened the heavy gold and glass door for her, she dashed by and sprinted across the deserted street just as the headlights of the bus crested the hill. Golden let out a grateful sigh. Although it wasn't the last bus of the night, she had no intention of waiting an hour and a half for the next one.
As usual, the bus was empty. At this time of night, it only ever seemed to be her and maybe one other passenger. This was unheard of back in New York. For her two short years at Juilliard, it never mattered what time of day she took the bus; it had always been crowded.
The yellow light from the ornate iron street lamps swept by, illuminating the dimly lit interior of the bus, showing glimpses of her reflection where she leaned her head against the window. Quietly, the bus navigated away from the Rosebank Hotel and down the quiet main street of Stardust Heights, past the expensive shops and perfectly landscaped square until the streetlamps were more spaced out leaving patches of black. If she squinted into the darkness, Golden could make out windows with soft warm light radiating from massive houses in the distance. This was the heart of Stardust Cove's opulence, a realm she knew intimately yet always felt estranged from.
A city within a city was the best way to explain it. Stardust Cove, a strange best-kept secret in Texas located on the coast. The idyllic little beach town was where Golden had spent the majority of her life. While the main part of Stardust was filled with normal middle-class people, Stardust Heights was the jewel on its crown. Located up the mountain in a narrow valley hollowed into its shelf, Stardust Heights looked down at the rest of Stardust Cove with a serene sense of detachment, its elevated position affording a panoramic view of the quaint city while never really having to touch it.
Golden couldn't help but hum the familiar tune of "She'll Be Coming Round the Mountain," as the bus began its descent, a tune she had hummed countless times to herself as she traversed back and forth between the Heights and the Cove years ago.
Ten minutes later, she was thanking the older bus driver for dropping her off in front of her house and watching him drive away. Her neighborhood was quiet—and so was her house.
Her footsteps echoed across the hardwood floors of the bungalow. Flipping on the main light, Golden couldn't help but grimace at the starkly empty interior. Two years ago, she lived here with her great-aunt. The place had been so jam-packed with antiques and furniture that it took a ten-man team working day and night to clear it all out.
Now it was just a shell of the home it used to be.
Setting the flowers on the kitchen counter, Golden grabbed a large glass from the cabinet. One of the few pieces of odds and ends left over from her previous tenant.
Carefully, she pulled at the velvet ribbon and unwrapped the black paper from around the bouquet. A card tumbled out of the packaging and she paused. Plucking it from the counter she turned it over and read the black script. Golden sucked in a breath.
Welcome back.
- Grayson Rosebank