The evening’s rehearsal was tense. Her dress wasn’t ready, and one of the violinists was sick. Verlene was sulking, and Ivan seemed distracted.
At halftime, Alice approached him where he stood to the side, sipping water from a bottle.
“Ivan, are you all right?”
He didn’t look at her. “Just preoccupied.”
“With the show?”
“Something else.”
“Is it my singing?” Did he finally realize he’d made a mistake?
His tone softened. “Your voice was beautiful, tonight. If you sing like this tomorrow, you’ll be fine.”
What Zach had said kept on drifting into her thoughts. She couldn’t stop the ugly suspicion from rearing its head in her mind. “Why are you making me do this? You know I don’t want to.”
“Because you can, and I don’t want to talk about it, anymore. You’re on tomorrow night, and that’s that.” Without giving her a second glance, he walked away.
She swallowed and went back to her position next to the pianist. The orchestra members regarded her with open disdain. How she got through the rest of the evening, she didn’t know. Both hoping and fearing that Ivan would insist on going home with her, her heart plummeted when he wished her a hasty goodnight with a peck on her forehead.
“Ben is outside,” he said. “He’ll drive you.”
“I don’t need Ben to drive me. I’ll walk.”
“Suit yourself.” With that, he turned and left.
Verlene stared after his profile as he walked from the auditorium. “What’s eating Mr. Too-Sexy-for-His-Jeans?”
Careful to hide her emotions, Alice said, “Maybe he’s stressed about tomorrow night.”
Verlene snorted. “Maybe he’s in a rush because he’s got a girl waiting at home.”
The thought hadn’t occurred to her until then. “Maybe.”
One of the flute players thrust a newspaper into Alice’s hands. On the front page was a photo of Ivan pacing his lobby. The quality of the image was poor, but his profile was unmistakable. Her eyes skimmed over the text. It gave an account of his strange behavior, labeling him as crazy. She lowered the paper with a sigh. Poor Ivan. No wonder he was so upset. Together with Kate, they’d decided to take their chances and not do damage control. Kate had pointed out that damage control could only make it worse, bringing the issue to the attention of journalists who may not have been aware there was an issue in the first place. It looked like their strategy backfired.
Alice said her goodbyes and made her way home. She stripped the bed and bundled the sheets into the washing machine. She didn’t want Ivan’s smell to linger in her room. After cleaning the house, she got into bed and stared at the ceiling. All she had to do was get through tomorrow night and another month before her life could go back to normal.
The New Royal Theater consisted of four levels above and three underground. The lower floors were used for storage, wardrobe, and set décor, while the upstairs part served as offices, a kitchen and canteen, gym, computer, and rehearsal rooms. With a stage that could swivel and tilt simultaneously as well as a four-story elevator that could accommodate a cargo truck loaded with stage sets, it was one of the most advanced theaters in the northern hemisphere.
Alice swiped her card to access the dressing rooms backstage where Ivan was getting ready for their premiere. She would only come onstage during the second half. When the heavy door clicked shut behind her, she made her way to the west side-stage and stopped for a moment to enjoy the ambience. A line of light from the main stage fell through the curtains. Technicians in charge of lighting moved around the space while décor staff checked the last details. Members of the orchestra were tuning their instruments in the pit. For them, she was invisible, each person focused on his task. If she didn’t have to make an appearance in little over an hour, she would’ve felt at peace.
She walked over the hardwood floor and pulled the curtain aside. Her fingers trailed over the rich burgundy velvet framed by golden tussles. The fabric was soft under her skin like a carpet of moss. Gaffers were testing the spots from the side gallery boxes and setting up a camera to film the show. In the center of the ceiling, the crystal chandelier caught the light and reflected it back in rainbows. Angels adorned each pillar. The painted dome depicted them in flight, their golden wings stretched out over the expanse of the ceiling while soft clouds fluffed like feathers in the blue sky. The one thousand and seventy plush red seats, now empty, would soon be filled. She breathed in deeply, inhaling the acrylic scent of the freshly painted décor. This was home. Never before had being here filled her with fear. Tonight, everything felt wrong.
In half an hour, the doors would open to let the public in. Damn, her nerves were shot. She would’ve liked to linger longer, but she needed to greet the media in the foyer before getting ready to walk on stage. While she was at it, she’d better check how Ivan was doing.