Chapter 16
Sixteen
The golden hills sped by Cadenza’s window and flattened into the Central Valley.
After another session of fruitless Spinning practice Sunday evening, Drostan was playing chauffeur and guard for her Monday morning rehearsal with Thomas.
Her gratitude for Drostan’s help was marred by frustration at needing help in the first place, and she had promised to help him in the office that afternoon in exchange.
Exchange. I can’t believe I just thought that word.
She rubbed her eyes. She’d called Canon that morning to confirm what Reyna had said about his fundraiser.
Five thousand dollars was far more than standard payment for someone of her status, but Canon had insisted he considered it a fair exchange and wanted to help her get to Venice.
He’d even sounded like the version of Canon that she liked over the phone.
After rehearsal, they’d wire the bribe money to Ilaria, and Drostan would help her book her ticket online, since her credit card was still maxed out. She’d reimburse him after.
She took a deep breath. It was happening. She was going. Somewhere Else and a spotlight in the bargain too. All I have to do is not blow it up.
Her phone buzzed.
“Giulia’s texting me?” She stared at the phone. She hadn’t heard from her oldest sister in months. Her other sister, Chiara, had been the one to tell her that Giulia, not Ilaria, recommended her for the part in the festival.
“What’s that?” Drostan stopped humming along with the radio.
“Oh, just a text from my sister. You know, not a daily occurrence.”
Drostan grunted. “You girls should mend that. Family is family.”
“Maybe for the Norroways. Pretty sure if I got cursed, none of the still-living Cavalieri would stay with me.” She swiped open the text.
Ciao, Sorellina Mia!
“Hmm.” That was it? Just hello? She shot off a reply.
What’s wrong?
Giulia’s answer came after a few seconds. What, I can’t text my sibling? Maybe I need some sister time.
Cadenza arched an eyebrow at the screen. Where’s Chiara?
Giulia sent a sheepish face emoji. She’s busy. New boyfriend.
So I’m last choice? She snorted, not surprised.
Basta, Giulia typed. Don’t be a brat. I haven’t seen you in like a year. Maybe I miss you. What do you think about visiting this summer? If I can tear Chiara away from her ragazzo of the month, we can all tour around together.
An ache sparked in Cadenza’s heart. Her sister wanted to tour around Italy together? But something didn’t quite add up. She frowned at the phone. “Umm…”
“Eh?” asked Drostan.
“Nothing,” she said. “I think Giulia’s got her timing mixed up is all.”
Or, Cadenza typed. We could hang out next month when I’ll be there anyway.
You’re going to be here next month?
Earth to Giulia. For the part you and Mamma arranged for me, remember? Cadenza checked the dash clock. Venice was nine hours ahead of California, but it wasn’t late enough that Giulia would be overly tired. Too many glasses of wine with dinner, maybe?
What part?
Cadenza’s breath froze in her throat. No. No, no, no, no. She hit the call button instead of texting again.
Her sister answered after two rings. “Pronto?”
“What do you mean ‘what part’?” Cadenza didn’t bother saying hello. “I have a chorus part in one of the festival productions. You and Mamma set it up for me.”
No response came over the line.
“Giulia!” A cold sweat prickled down Cadenza’s neck. “What do you mean ‘what part’?”
Drostan glanced over in concern, but she held up a hand for him to wait.
Giulia’s voice shrank. “I thought Mamma told you.”
“She told me I had to have my ticket earlier, and she told me she needed more money for my Permesso di Soggiorno.” Cadenza’s free hand gripped the arm rest.
“Porco cane,” Giulia cursed. “Non ci credo. No, I take that back. I absolutely believe it.”
“Believe what?” Cadenza’s voice came out strained and thin. Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.
“The niece of the direttore took the part. They decided that about a week and a half ago. After Mamma got fired.”
“She got what?”
“They fired her. She got in trouble with some kind of mafioso. Owed him money or something. The director found out and didn’t want bad press for the festival, so he fired her.”
Cadenza swung her head back and forth. This could not be happening.
“Caddie, what’s wrong?” Drostan whipped his gaze between her and the road.
“I’m so sorry, sis,” Giulia said. She even sounded like she meant it. “There’s no part for you.”
“I have to go.” Cadenza hung up the phone. A week and a half ago. The same time her mother had told her to have more money for the “bribe.” And to send it to her directly.
“Oh my gosh. O my—” Her breath came in ragged gulps.
No part.
Pressure built in her chest. Gravity tilted.
No part. No Teatro la Fenice.
She braced her arms against the dashboard as if she were about to fall. Hot tears burned her cheeks.
“Cadenza?” Drostan tried again. “What’s wrong?”
“There isn’t— She—” The words broke around her heaving breaths.
“Your club’s just on the left up here, almost there.” Drostan pointed ahead. “We’ll park up and we’ll fix it, just hold on.”
She was hyperventilating, fingertips buzzing. “My mother—” She couldn’t get the words out.
No part.
No Venice.
No mother.
Because what mother lies about fulfilling her daughter’s dream so she can extort money from her to pay off her mafia debt?
Drostan parked in front of the club and cut the engine. “Your mother? Did something happen to Ilaria?”
“Did something happen to her?” She laughed, half crazed, and glared out the windshield at the boxwood topiaries, trimmed like spearheads. Each leaf stood out, edges bladelike. The seat belt cut into her neck.
Sharp.
Everything was sharp.
“Something must have happened to her.” She fumbled with the seat belt. The shoulder strap yanked at her hair. “How else could she turn into such a monstrous, lying, manipulative—ungh!” She shrieked and folded over, sobbing. “There’s no—no part. In Venice.”
“Oh dear.” He rested a hand on her shaking shoulders. “Am I to understand your mother lied?”
“Yes. But she’s not my mother. Not anymore.” She jerked upright, scouring the tears from her face with the back of her hand. “Stupid tears. Waste of bodily fluids.”
“Caddie, I’m so sorry,” Drostan said. “You’re ten times the singer Ilaria ever was. I’ve no doubt you’ll make a wonderful career all on your own. You don’t need her.”
She hiccupped, trying to calm her breathing, and pointed at the country club.
“If that were true, I wouldn’t be working here.
Crap. I still have to go in for rehearsal.
” Pens and notebooks spilled on the floor of the car as she rummaged for a tissue in her purse.
“My throat’s a mess. I’ll never be able to sing properly like this.
” She scooped everything back into her bag and shoved out of the car.
The sun hit her soggy face in a blast of pipe organ, and she squeezed her eyes shut, fingers digging into her scalp.
No part.
No Venice.
No mother.
No Somewhere Else.
“Why don’t we go in and see if your boss can reschedule.” Drostan circled around the car to touch her shoulder. She pried her eyes open and followed him towards the club entrance.
“I’ll get my errands done quick-fast, and we’ll go home and make some tea. When Taran wakes up, we can sit down and figure out your options.”
Cadenza halted in front of the double doors. Options?
What options?
Taran kept insisting fate was already laid out, woven like a tapestry. Unchangeable by choice or desire. What if he was right? Did her tapestry not include a stage career?
Drostan patted his pockets. “I think I left my phone in the car. I’ll be right back. You go ahead.” He trotted back to the parking lot.
A sick feeling sank into her belly, slithered through her limbs.
No options.
Pressure built in her ear, like they needed to pop. The sun’s music stuttered and coughed. Was she fighting a losing battle, shredding her tapestry to rags by trying to go against the grain?
The entrance doors slid open, and Vasilios Pearce strode through. A wave of air conditioning followed him, chilling the stress sweat on her neck.
“Ms. Cavalieri.” He smiled and touched his walking stick to his forehead in greeting. “What a delightful surprise.”
“Mr. Pearce.” Her ears rang, and she clenched her fist to avoid tugging on them. Crying must have swollen her throat enough to put pressure on her eardrums. “What are you doing here?”
“Ah, ah, Vasilios, please. And I am a member of this club, remember?”
She made a face. “Right. Sorry. I thought in the middle of a weekday, though, that you’d be working, or doing campaign things for Canon.”
He smiled again. “You are kind to think of him. Politics is a noisy, stressful job, and I find a walk around the grounds in the quiet to be beneficial. But you seem distressed. May I be of assistance?”
“No. No, thank you, I’m fine.” She stepped back to let him pass, but her heel caught on a lip of the sidewalk and she stumbled. Vasilios caught her arm.
The thrum of the ground sucked away from her feet, like sand pulled out by a wave.
She grabbed hold of a pillar, and Vasilios let go.
“Aha! I found it!” Drostan’s voice carried from the car.
“If you are well, I’ll be off. I hope you find a quiet moment, Ms. Cavalieri.” He saluted her again and slipped between cars in the parking lot.
Drostan jogged over, waving his phone. “Wee bugger fell between the seats.”
The ground steadied under Cadenza’s feet, and she took a deep breath. Her ears cleared.
That’s better. Trust her mother to come up with a scheme that left her so upset she couldn't hear properly.
Drostan held the door for her. “Come on then. We’ll get it all sorted.”
Cadenza waited for the receptionist to finish on the phone so she could ask her about Thomas’s schedule while Drostan leafed through a stack of club brochures on the front table.
He held up one of the leaflets. “Learmonth Country Club?”
“Yes, why?”