Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Natalie
I came back to Gina's apartment. In all of Los Angeles, besides Gina's place, I had nowhere else to go.
"So you finally ditched that arrogant, controlling asshole.
" Gina shoved a glass of warm milk into my hands and dropped onto the couch across from me, the one buried under medical journals, crossing her legs.
"Good for you, honey. I'm telling you, losing you is absolutely the biggest loss of Richard's life—though that guy who only sees spreadsheets and family interests probably won't realize it until the day he goes bankrupt. "
I held the milk and managed a weak smile after Gina finished.
"Come on, I bet he's relieved right now. Finally rid of the boring wife who only caused him trouble at parties. Probably popping champagne with Olivia as we speak."
Even saying it, something twisted in my chest.
Pathetic. Even now, I still ached over Richard.
"I bet his face was priceless when you brought up divorce," Gina said, ripping open a bag of chips. "Seriously, what was his reaction? Did he tear up the papers like confetti and declare, 'Woman, you can't escape'?"
She lowered her voice in a ridiculous imitation of some dramatic baritone. It was absurd.
I couldn't help but laugh.
"Pretty close. He told me to think it over, reminded me my father's company survives on Winston." I sipped the milk. "I told him to let it flatline."
"Whoa." Gina whistled, spraying chip crumbs. "That's the Natalie I know! So what's your plan? Fair warning—you can crash here as long as you want."
That pulled me back down from the brief lightness.
After leaving Richard, I had freedom. But freedom didn't pay bills.
"I need to figure out how to make money," I sighed, setting the milk on my knee. "When I left, I left behind all the cards Richard gave me, the jewelry, those accounts I couldn't even remember the passwords to. All I took was this suitcase and the cheap clothes I bought myself. I'm broke."
Gina stopped chewing and looked at me seriously. "Honey, if you need money, I can—"
"No." I cut her off, sharper than I expected.
"Gina, you're my best friend, but I don't want to start by borrowing money.
That feels like another kind of dependence.
" I took a breath and said what had been circling my mind all day.
"I want to go back to singing at bars. Like before I married Richard. "
Silence for a few seconds.
Gina's eyes widened. Then a brilliant smile broke across her face, and she actually slapped her thigh.
"You're going back to your roots? Natalie Green's picking up the mic again? This is the best news I've heard all month!"
She leaned in close, eyes sparkling. "You know what? This is fate! I have a friend, Landon, who just took over a decent bar downtown. He's desperate for a standout singer. How about it? You could try tomorrow night!"
The opportunity came faster than I expected. It made me dizzy.
"Tomorrow? Isn't that too soon? I... I haven't sung in forever." My voice betrayed my fear.
Two years as Mrs. Winston, I didn't know what I'd be like back under the spotlight. What if I screwed it up...
"Too soon?" Gina rolled her eyes. "Did money corrode your voice?
Did those boring charity galas poison your vocal cords?
Please. You're Natalie. You sang one song at freshman orientation, and half the campus couldn't sleep.
It's settled. I'm texting Landon right now.
You just need to pick a song that'll drop jaws, and.
.." She looked me up and down with a sly smile.
"Wear something eye-catching. I've got a purple velvet dress that'll make you the center of attention. "
Watching Gina frantically typing on her phone, the fear in my chest slowly gave way to anticipation I hadn't felt in ages.
I wasn't Mrs. Winston anymore. I was just Natalie.
Nothing could stop Natalie.
Especially not singing.
The next night, I stood behind the deep red velvet curtain backstage at Mustang.
Through the gap, I glimpsed the dim, noisy world beyond. Copper chandeliers swayed from the ceiling, illuminating smoke drifting through the air. On the small stage in the distance, an old jazz band improvised, and the worn wooden floor still bore dark stains from last night's spilled drinks.
I wore the purple velvet slip dress Gina had given me. It hugged my body perfectly, gleaming subtly in the amber light, the slit reaching my thigh—sexy and bold.
I looked at myself in the mirror—winged eyeliner, bold red lips, blonde hair in loose curls.
This wasn't the polished look Richard would approve of, but it was striking. It was what I used to like.
Landon was a man with light brown curls, green eyes, and a devil-may-care smile. When he saw me, he whistled. "Gina didn't screw me over this time. The stage is yours, beautiful. Show them what you've got."
I gripped the microphone, took a deep breath, pushed through the curtain, and walked out.
The lights hit. I moved to the mic, fingertips grazing the metal stand, scanning the blurred faces below.
The intro started, old rock, my choice. I opened my mouth, and even I was surprised by the sound, lower than I remembered, raspier, like an engine that hadn't run in years roaring back to life.
My body swayed with the rhythm. The purple velvet flowed like liquid under the spotlight, the slit revealing glimpses of my legs with each step.
For those seven minutes onstage, I owned everything. The chorus climbed higher, the crowd heated up, sweat slid down my neck, and the velvet stuck to my back. I felt every eye on me—surprise, appreciation, raw desire—whatever. The truth was, I was addicted to this feeling.
This was right. This was me.
When the song ended, applause and whistles exploded.
A guy with silver-streaked hair pushed to the stage edge, shouting over the railing. "Hey, sweetheart! You just stopped my heart! Sing the next one for me, yeah? I'll buy you a drink—the most expensive!"
His buddies laughed.
I caught my breath, fingers raking through damp hair, and smiled at him. "If you're still here tomorrow, maybe I'll take that drink."
Back in the dressing room, Gina burst in like a cannonball and threw her arms around me. "Oh my God! Natalie, you were stunning! I guarantee at least a dozen guys out there are scheming to get your number!"
I laughed, pulling free. "You're exaggerating."
"Not even a little." A male voice, amused, cut in.
Landon leaned against the doorframe, holding an envelope and two glasses of whiskey.
He handed me one, green eyes full of undisguised appreciation, gaze sliding from my damp neck to the dress straps before returning to my face. "Seriously, Natalie, you owned that room tonight. My bar hasn't been this alive in ages."
"Thanks. Your bar has good energy." I took the glass but didn't drink.
Despite the adrenaline, I hadn't forgotten about the little one in my belly.
"Good energy needs a good soul." Landon stepped closer, close enough I could smell his faint cologne. He handed me the envelope. "Tonight's pay, like we agreed."
I opened it. Three hundred-dollar bills. Three hundred dollars. Probably less than a custom button on Richard's suit. But right now, in my hands, they felt heavy. This was the first money I'd earned for myself since leaving Richard.
"Wow," I heard myself whisper. "This feels good."
"This is just the beginning." Landon leaned against the vanity, relaxed but commanding. "Seriously, ever thought about signing with someone? Your voice, your stage presence... I know people at record labels. I could make introductions. You deserve a bigger stage, Natalie. You could be famous."
People told me that before I married Richard.
"Thanks, Landon." I put the cash in my purse. "But I'm not thinking about that yet. Right now, I just want to survive."
Landon raised an eyebrow. He sipped his drink and smiled. "Fair enough. Actually works out for me. With you here, my revenue might double." His smile deepened. "Of course, I'd rather you just keep singing happily, wherever that is."
"Hey, you two, done chatting?" Gina downed her drink, cheeks flushed. "Natalie's exhausted. Landon, be a gentleman and drive her to Winslow Apartments? She's your star tonight."
Winslow Apartments was where Landon housed Mustang employees. While I worked there, I could stay.
Late-night Los Angeles glowed orange-red, streetlights scorching sections of asphalt into halos, making the whole city look like it had just finished a party.
I sat in the passenger seat, window cracked, night air rushing in, dispersing the lingering stage heat.
Landon and I chatted casually. He was good at conversation—funny, knew when to stop, but would subtly steer things back to me. I recognized this as a test between man and woman.
"So, Natalie," he turned the wheel at a corner, profile sharp in the dashboard glow, "are you single?"
"Newly single."
"Does the recovery period require company? I mean," his fingers tapped the steering wheel, glancing at me, "I'd happily apply for the position."
His other hand rested casually on the gear shift, inches from my knee. I could smell his cologne mixed with whiskey and faint tobacco.
I played dumb. "What's the job description?"
"On-call boyfriend. I guarantee, whether in bed or out, I'm top-tier."
God, he was direct.
I felt Landon's appeal. He was handsome, charming, successful, radiating mature masculine energy. But immediately, Richard's image invaded my mind.
I looked away, out the window. "Sounds nice, but I need to be alone right now."
Landon didn't seem surprised. He smiled. "Of course. Hard to jump into the next thing right after ending something." He paused. "But if during your recovery you want a drink, conversation, or," his voice dropped, "just some fun... You know where I am."
The car stopped at Winslow Apartments. Getting out, Landon opened my door like a gentleman.
"Goodnight, Natalie. See you tomorrow."
"Goodnight, Landon. Thanks for the ride." I stepped out. The night wind made me shiver.
Landon nodded, got back in, and the car disappeared into the night.
I turned toward the building. It was late—the street empty. Just as I reached for the glass door, the hair on my neck stood up—an intense feeling of being watched, coming from some dark corner.
I spun around.
Across the street, under a dim streetlight, a black car sat quietly in shadow. Ordinary model, dark-tinted windows, revealing nothing.
I stood frozen, holding my breath, staring for several seconds.
The black car didn't move, as if just parked there overnight. Could it be... Richard's car? The thought flashed through my mind, my heart racing involuntarily.
Then I shook my head, almost laughing at myself. God, Natalie, you're paranoid.
I was probably just exhausted, on edge.
Richard was likely enjoying his peace without me—after all, I was a problem he'd already handled.
I took a breath, pushed through the glass door into the lobby, rode the elevator to my little place, and the cold wind finally shut out.
The apartment was small but clean, with a big window overlooking city lights.
I kicked off my heels, the velvet dress pooling at my feet. Standing at the bathroom mirror, I wiped off lipstick and eyeliner with remover. Without makeup, I still looked good—body tired but spirits high. This was my original trajectory.
Would I fall in love again? The thought came from nowhere. After that miserable marriage with Richard? My passion for love was spent. If someday I actually liked someone again, what would that look like? I couldn't imagine.
And the baby.
My hand unconsciously settled on my belly.
If I was with someone again, he'd be the child's father. Stepfather. No, just thinking the word made my stomach clench.
My stepmother, Selina, though she was dead now, every second with her had been among the darkest moments of my life.
She didn't like me, so she banned me from eating in the living room. The food servants brought was always cold. I'd force it down. Once, when I was sick and threw up, Selina saw and locked me in a storage room for five days. When I came out, I was hospitalized for two weeks with severe illness.
Few people truly love a child with no blood relation. I knew that better than anyone.
After showering, I slipped into my lace nightgown, collapsed into bed, and exhaustion crashed over me. But in that last moment before sleep, I thought again of that black car across the street, that shadow-like feeling of being watched.
I'm just tired. I thought as sleep took me. Must be.