Chapter 20 #2
Remy had expected couples to dance, but they remained rooted to their seats. He couldn’t see Capone, but if the asshole had problems with the show, then fuck him.
“You wandered down the lane and far away / Leaving me a song that will not die / Love is now the stardust of yesterday / The music of the years gone by / Though I dream in vain / In my heart it will remain / May stardust melody / A memory of love’s refrain…”
The crowd went wild again when she and Archibald finished singing “Stardust.” It was as close to Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga’s performance as possible, with blistering chemistry and oozing sexuality.
The audience probably expected that the two of them would have sex on the piano.
It was that hot. Did Remy like it? As a musician, hell yeah.
As a man in love with the woman, fuck no. He hated it.
For the next three hours, Skye commanded the stage, a relentless whirlwind of motion and sound.
When she announced their last song, the audience erupted in demands for more.
The thunderous applause forced encores that extended the show by forty-five grueling minutes.
By the time they finally exited the stage, Remy was drenched.
He craved a gallon of water and an ice bath.
Capone met them in the dressing room. “I want to see this show tomorrow night. Have the trumpet player here on Friday.” Then he shoved a handful of bills into Remy’s hand.
Behind Capone stood a short, stocky man who seemed entirely unremarkable until he handed Skye a business card.
“I’m Frederick Hager, musical director for OKeh Records, one of the most successful independent labels making records today,” he announced.
“I want to record ‘Stardust’ and the other songs you performed tonight. Come to the studio tomorrow, and we’ll discuss a contract. ”
“Are you serious?” Skye asked.
“I don’t joke about recording contracts. How about two o’clock?” Then Hager turned to Capone. “Thank you for tonight’s invitation. This recording will be historic.” The two men walked out together, celebrating their success.
Skye looked flabbergasted. “Did that just happen?”
“It sure did. Congratulations,” Archibald said.
Remy wrapped her in a hug and swung her around. “You did it! I’m so proud of you. You’re about to get the recording contract you wanted.”
“I can’t believe it.” Her face suddenly went blank, and tears spilled into her eyes.
“What’s the matter?”
“My parents aren’t here. We discussed a recording contract so many times, and they’re not here to share the news.”
If he could, Remy would take her back to see her parents.
“I know how you feel.” His voice sounded rough with emotion.
“There are so many things I wish I could tell my parents.” He reached for his handkerchief and gently wiped away her tears.
“We can go to the cemetery tomorrow after you meet with Hager. Will that help?”
She nodded. “Whenever anything good happens, I go there to talk to them.”
“Then we’ll do it.” Remy planned to visit his parents’ above-ground tomb when he went to New Orleans for Mardi Gras.
“Are we going home or out to eat?” Archibald asked.
“Whatever we do, I have to go to the house first, shower, and put on fresh clothes. I can wring sweat from my shirt,” Remy said.
“We can do that, then go to the Blackhawk for dinner and dancing. Carlton Sanders and their Kansas City Nighthawks dance orchestra are playing there. Plus, they have the best prime rib,” Skye said.
“That restaurant broadcasts nationwide as ‘Live! From the Blackhawk over WGN Radio.’ Maybe we can get Skye—”
“Don’t even think about it, Archibald,” she said. “No more singing tonight. I want to dance.”
Remy glanced at the roll of bills in his hand.
“That’s a lot of money,” she said.
He tried to give it to her, but she refused to take it. “Give it to the stagehands. They worked hard tonight.”
“So did you,” Remy said.
“I know, and I’ve got a meeting with a record label tomorrow. That’s enough for me.”
Remy shrugged and walked out, looking for the stage manager. If Skye didn’t want the money, why not tip the stagehands? “Hey,” he said. “What’s your name?”
“Willy.”
“You’re the stage manager. Right?”
“Yeah, what do you want?”
Remy put the cash in Willy’s hand. “This is a bonus for you, the stagehands, and the guy working the lights. There’s enough to repair the door and purchase flowers and champagne for tomorrow night. And doan get the cheap stuff.”
“Sure,” Willy said, looking wide-eyed at the roll of bills. “Did Mr. Capone give you this money?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not to me, but shouldn’t Miss Skye get it?”
“She said to give it to the stagehands. I added repairs to the door, plus flowers and champagne for tomorrow night.”
“She should take it. I’ve never seen a lady as talented as Miss Skye.
She has the voice of an angel and moves like a goddess.
The audience was eating out of her hand, even Mr. Capone.
” He leaned closer and whispered, “I know what he did to you before you went on stage, and nobody has ever stood up to him like that. Everybody here’s on your side, and with tips like this, whatever you need, you’ve got it. ”
Remy delivered a hard slap to Willy’s shoulder, then tightened his grip like a vise. “If Capone ever blindsides me again, I’ll come looking for you. The woman you think has the voice of an angel had her neck in a chokehold. I doan want to see that again—ever.”
Willy nervously bobbed his head. “Yes, sir.”
Remy returned to the dressing room and scanned the floor for discarded packaging and used bandages. While Skye was in the restroom, he swiftly gathered the trash and shoved everything into his pocket for disposal later.
Skye returned. “I’m ready.”
He kissed her lightly on the lips. “Let’s saddle up. We’re about to do a whole bunch of cowboy shit.”
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
“I thought you wanted to have dinner and go dancing.”
“I do, but what does cowboy shit have to do with it?”
He chuckled. “It’s just a saying.” Lacing Skye’s arm with his, they left through the stage door.
Shock on top of shock, Violet stood there, adjusting her gloves as if standing in an elegant foyer instead of a stinking alley.
Cowboy shit, for sure. “Fuck! The bad penny shows up again,” Remy said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Violet ignored him. “I told ye I’d be here. It was a wonderful show.”
“You saw it?” Skye asked.
“Of course. I was sitting with Capone and Mr. Hager. I don’t know how many times I said I’d love to have that song on a record. Did he offer ye a contract?”
Giddy up.
“We’re meeting tomorrow!” Skye could barely contain her excitement. “If I have you to thank for that, Violet, thank you.”
“I wanted the idea swirling around his brain during yer performance.” Then to Archibald she said, “Would ye like to go to dinner?”
“I thought ye’d never ask.”
Remy didn’t wait to see if Violet intended to invite Skye and him. “We’re going to Skye’s house to freshen up and enjoy a light dinner. You two have fun.” Then he put his hand on Skye’s back, low and firm, not wanting her pulled back into Violet’s orbit.”
Skye looked back at Violet and Archibald. “I’m glad you didn’t give her a chance to invite us.”
“I didn’t want a repeat of what happened this afternoon.” Remy opened the car door and helped Skye into the vehicle.
“What’s wrong with her? Or does she just hate us?”
“She doesn’t understand emotions, so she appears to have no feelings.” He slipped into the driver’s seat and started the car.
“She doesn’t understand how her words and tone affect others. Is that what you’re saying?”
Remy pulled away from the curb and immediately made a U-turn. “Yep!”
“How does a person get like that?”
“God made her that way. But Archibald loves her, and she is Clay’s mother, so I’ll tolerate her, but you doan have to.”
“Violet makes it difficult to be open-minded and accepting, but I’ll continue to do it because my mother asked me to.”
“I wish I could’ve met her.”
“Me too. You would’ve loved her,” Skye said, pensively smoothing her gloved hand. “I often think about what I’d say if I could see her again. Maybe I wouldn’t say anything. Maybe I’d just hang on tight.”
Remy gently squeezed the back of Skye’s neck. “I’ve often thought about what I’d say to my mère. And I always end the thought with the same three words: ‘I love you.’”
Skye’s gaze captured him, revealing something that sent his pulse thrumming in his temples and his heart erupting with love and a torrent of memories.
Leaving her behind was unthinkable. She was the anchor that had stopped his world from spinning wildly out of control.
He needed her to keep that from happening again.
He had just twenty-four to forty-eight hours to figure out how to ensure she was part of his life forever.