Chapter Four
With rehearsal over for the night, dinner, a shower, and bed were calling Chloe’s name, but instead, she headed back to the sets department to find Erik.
She wanted to check in with him, see how he was doing, because the way the rumors and gossip had been running rampant, he had to have heard the things that people were saying about him.
Though some of the gossip had diverted to her after she’d flipped out in front of everybody.
“What a bitch.”
“She must be on her period.”
“Jesus, who died and made her queen?”
“She’s finally showing her true colors.”
“She thinks her shit don’t stink.”
People might give her the side eye for a couple of days, but it would all blow over, so she wasn’t worried. Likely, the gossip about Erik would have blown over, too, but it was just so nasty and uncalled for that she hadn’t been able to let it go.
The set department smelled like paint and freshly cut lumber, and the large ventilation fans buzzed loudly overhead.
Several pieces of furniture that fit the period for the show filled a large portion of the space.
Some of them, she knew, had been sourced locally and repainted or upholstered to match the desired aesthetic, while others had been built from scratch.
The craftsmen and painters were tidying up for the night before they left, and Chloe spotted Erik right away.
He was standing with Mitch, the Technical Director, a clipboard held between them as they discussed something.
Behind them were large panels that would create the backdrop of the Paris skyline, and it took her breath away.
A few of the panels were still nothing more than a roughly sketched outline, but the ones that were completed were incredible, with so much depth it looked real, like she could take a few steps and she’d be there, standing on the rooftop, able to smell the smoke from the chimneys, and feel the crisp bite of the weather on her skin.
Approaching the men, they both looked up, and while Erik’s face was set, Mitch offered her a bright smile through his bushy red beard. “Come to have a look, have you?”
Returning his smile, she gestured to the backdrop. “Has Lattie seen this yet?”
The man grinned widely and rocked forward onto the balls of his feet. “Not yet, but I expect he’ll be popping in soon enough.”
“Well, I hope you have smelling salts on hand,” she teased. “He’ll probably swoon when he sees this.”
Mitch laughed heartily, then turned his grin on Erik. “It’s all thanks to this man, right here.” Looking back to Chloe, he added, “And if you think this is good, you should see what he has planned for the Phantom’s Lair.”
Chloe looked at Erik when she offered, “I can’t wait,” and if she wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of a blush blooming on his unscarred cheek.
To Mitch, she asked, “Can I have a word with Erik?”
The man nodded. “We’re about done here anyway.” Moving away, he called out, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Erik. Great job today.”
As soon as they were alone, Chloe’s belly flooded with butterflies. He’d shed his hoodie, and the navy blue T-shirt he was wearing hugged his muscular shoulders while leaving his thick biceps on display. Suddenly, she couldn’t remember what she’d come in here for.
After a moment of awkward silence, Erik prompted, “You wanted to talk to me?” just as Chloe blurted, “This really is amazing work.”
He turned slightly to look at the backdrop, and Chloe’s breath caught as she was offered a view of his unscarred profile. He’d truly been a beautiful man. But when he turned back and she saw his scars, her chest clenched painfully for him. He’d been hurt so very badly…
“Did you need something?” His voice was clipped, almost angry, and her cheeks heated with embarrassment that he’d caught her staring and had probably seen the sympathy on her face.
He had a right to be angry, especially if he’d heard even half the things people had been saying about him today.
He probably assumed she was just like them, and probably thought she’d come to gawk.
Poor man. Honestly, she was surprised he hadn’t up and quit.
Refusing to let his bad mood affect her, Chloe smiled brightly. “I wanted to see how your first day went.” She motioned to the backdrop. “You were certainly productive.”
He let out a little grunt. “It was fine.” Turning, he started gathering up some of his things.
She nodded, though he wasn’t looking at her anymore.
He’d said his day was fine, and he hadn’t quit despite most likely having heard the bullshit being spewed about him, nor had he looked like his feelings had been in any way hurt.
Clearly, he had a tough hide and didn’t need her coddling him.
With her purpose for coming here completed, she should have left.
It had been a long day. He probably wanted to go home, eat, and relax – exactly what she should be doing – but she couldn’t seem to get her feet to move.
“Lattie showed me your website.”
He didn’t turn to look at her, just continued packing things up in a crate. “Yeah?”
“I saw there was a whole section of tattoos.” Some really amazing tattoos.
She’d seen an incredibly intricate jungle scene with gorillas, a photo-realistic lion with a mane that looked so soft she’d wanted to pet it, and a cherry blossom tree in full bloom, each delicate pink petal floating on an invisible breeze, a work of art.
That got his attention. He turned his head to look back at her, his eyes skating up and down her person. “You want a tattoo?”
Chloe couldn’t get a read on his tone. Did he sound skeptical? She drew herself up a bit. She could totally get a tattoo. She could be badass.
Her chin hitched up a notch. “What if I do?”
Straightening to his full height, he wiped his hands off on a rag. “What’d you have in mind?”
Chloe’s eyes widened. She didn’t know there was going to be a quiz. “Er…”
One side of his mouth quirked up just the tiniest bit. “You think about it and let me know.”
Was that a dare? Did he think she wouldn’t? “I will.”
Having gotten the last word, she whirled around, ready to march away, only to hear him say, “You do that.”
Her back stiffened, but she forced her feet to keep moving. She hadn’t intended her visit to devolve into some childish back-and-forth, yet she hadn’t been able to help herself. Something about him just riled her up, got her blood pumping, and made her feel alive.
Erik left right after Chloe, watching to make sure she got safely to her car in the parking lot, and then following discreetly behind her until she reached her place.
He may have been a bit pissed off at her, but that wouldn’t keep him from doing his job.
He’d seen the pity on her face when she’d looked at his scars.
The horror. It had been written there, clear as day, and anger had burned through him so hotly he’d wanted to growl.
He wasn’t even sure why he’d been so irritated.
People reacted to his face way worse than Chloe had – today especially – but for some reason, he expected better from her.
No, that wasn’t true. It wasn’t that he expected better of her; it was that he didn’t want her to see them at all.
He wanted her to see him. Which was ridiculous.
She’d have to be blind not to notice that half his face was fucked.
He let out a light chuff of laughter as he recalled their tattoo conversation. She’d been so damn cute, he hadn’t been able to resist baiting her. But hell, if she wanted ink, he’d happily tattoo her, anywhere on her body. He’d even be happy to give her some suggestions on the design.
With that conversation still on his mind when he got back to his apartment, Erik settled on the couch with his sketch pad.
He didn’t know Chloe that well. The details he had on her were little better than sterile facts, not a deep dive into her psyche, but he imagined she’d want something delicate, pretty, yet also something meaningful to her.
Picking up his pencil as an idea began to take shape, he started to draw.
When his phone rang and he raised his head, he winced as his muscles protested the change in position. A glance at the clock showed he’d been hunched over his sketch for almost two hours now, though it hadn’t seemed like that much time had passed.
Seeing the general’s number on the screen, he connected the call. “Sir.”
“Erik. I have new information.”
Sitting up straighter, Erik listened as the general said, “Since this op isn’t official, I can’t devote the full scale of Black Bay’s resources to it, but Lark volunteered to do some digging, and I have some friends willing to feed me intel.”
That didn’t surprise Erik. Lark was always hungry for a new puzzle to solve, and the general’s network of retired military buddies was extensive and spread across the country.
“If Jackson Savoy is communicating with anyone, he’s using a burner.
I was able to get eyes on his place. He left his phone there, and all his things, so he’s traveling light.
He left his car parked in his garage, but took the keys, leaving us to assume he intends to return.
Aside from his bills, which are set up for automatic withdrawal, there’s been no activity on his accounts, so he didn’t rent a car or buy a ticket for public transportation. ”
“Are we sure someone didn’t off him and dump his body somewhere?”
“Possible, but unlikely since he put a hold on his mail.”
He knew he’d be leaving then.
“Lark got access to his search history. It’s almost all about Chloe Powell. The bastard’s been searching for her, and he found her.”
There was some tapping in the background before the general said, “I’m forwarding you this article. It was the last thing he accessed on his computer before he went missing.”
“I’ll take a look at it.”
“He knows about the opera house, Erik. By this point, I’m sure he probably knows where she lives as well. Lark’s running facial recognition, but Savoy isn’t stupid. The chances of us catching him that way are slim. Stay sharp.”
“Yes, sir. Do you need me to pass this on to Jayla?”
“I’ll call her myself.”
Ending the call, Erik pulled up the article General Davies had sent him.
It was a small piece in the entertainment section mentioning that Prima Donna, Chloe Powell, may have come out of retirement.
There was a little bit about her history with the Metropolitan Opera House, her unexpected exit from the stage a year and a half ago, and rumors that she may now be performing once again, headlining at the opera house in Norfolk, Virginia.
His eyes went to the journalist’s name. It was tempting to contact him, interrogate him to find out the source of his information, since Erik knew damn well Lattimer had been keeping Chloe’s participation under wraps. But the damage was already done.
Tossing the phone aside, Erik looked at what he’d drawn.
At a glance, it was a simple bouquet of hyacinths, but if someone looked closer, they would see that every petal, leaf, stem, and ribbon was made of music notes.
Cocking his head, he examined it with a critical eye.
He had to admit, it was a pretty piece. Closing the cover on the sketch book, he set it on the table before he snatched up his phone again and grabbed his keys.
Jayla was going to be pissed, but with this new information, there was no way in hell he was going to leave her or Chloe unguarded.