Chloe sat quietly, wishing she could do something that would take away Hannah’s pain. She wanted to see her friend happy; after everything she had been through with Harvey, she deserved to be treated with dignity and respect.
She slid in next to Hannah and put her arm around her. “Listen, honey, all I know is that you tried. You took a chance on yourself, on him, on your future, which is a heck of a lot than most people are willing to do. Maybe it just didn’t work out the way you wanted it to.”
Hannah sunk into Chloe’s arm and sobbed softly.
“But,” Chloe continued, “That doesn’t mean you give up. It just means that you try again, with another club, another gig, another tour. Heck, maybe even another sheikh!” She could feel Hannah laugh against her arm. “And next time,” Chloe added, “you keep the money at the end of it.”
The two friends sat up talking, crying and laughing into the night.
TWENTY
The morning after Hannah and Chloe were reunited, Chloe called the manager at her restaurant to see if she had any jobs going for a multi-talented ser
ver she happened to know. While nothing was available where Chloe worked, to her and Hannah’s surprise the manager told them about another catering company that was currently hiring, and offering better pay and more regular shifts that Hannah’s old job. The woman gave Chloe the address and phone number and told her to send Hannah down later that day.
The new catering company was similar to the one Hannah had worked at previously, only bigger—instead of handling private events of fifty or less, this company could accommodate parties of up to 300 people.
Hannah’s job was serving hors d’oeuvres; it was her responsibility to walk around among the guests, offering trays of tiny sandwiches, smoked salmon topped with caviar or roasted mushrooms with goat cheese. She liked the role because she felt invisible when she did it, just like when the house lights went down and she closed her eyes and sang. At the catering events, the guests paid no intention to the staff. Rather than being talked to or hassled, Hannah merely walked around, smiled and handed out overpriced food to pretentious people. Considering her addled state of mind, it was the perfect job.
Over the next month or so, Hannah started pining to be back on stage again. She liked her catering job, and the money was okay, but she had to work extra shifts just to make ends meet and was getting very run down. Singing paid better hourly, was much easier on the body, and the singer in her was yearning to come back.
She knew she belonged in the clubs, crooning out the soulful sounds that filled her with peace. On her way home from catering shifts, Hannah began stopping by whichever clubs she passed, asking them if they were looking for performers, but no one had any openings.
Weeks passed and Hannah still hadn’t landed any singing gigs. One night, while catering a society event, she started thinking about all the singers who had given up on their dreams, wondering if she would become one of them. She filled her tray with tiny quiches and held it up high as she walked out of the kitchen and back into the room filled with ball gowns and tuxedos. She was lost in thought, wondering if she’d ever make it back on stage again. Then she remembered the one place that she might have a shot; the one place where there was already a crowd that loved her, and no doubt wanted her back. No, she said to herself as she walked across the room, handing out food as she went. She wasn’t ready to swallow her pride with Harvey. She wasn’t that desperate yet.
Hannah turned to offer a plate of appetizers to a guest when her foot got tangled in the strap of a handbag someone had left on the floor. She lurched forward and the quiches went flying across the room. Hannah clawed helplessly at the air before landing with a dull thud on the ground, the guests clearing a nice little space for her so they could watch her as she scrambled to get up.
A hand reached out to help her and Hannah took it. She pulled herself up and then looked up to thank the gentleman and found herself looking straight into Sadiq’s eyes. She yanked her hand back and stared, feeling the heat of embarrassment take over, or was it the swelling in her wrist? What is he doing here? Tears sprang out of her eyes as all of the feelings she had been suppressing came rushing back to the surface, and she turned and fled into the kitchen in shock.
Her manager heard the commotion and came running up to her. After seeing her wrist and her tears, he sent her home and told her to get it checked out. Hannah grabbed her bag and then ducked out the back of the ballroom, crossing her fingers that she wouldn’t run into Sadiq again.
An hour later, Chloe and Hannah found themselves in the emergency room waiting to be called into the back.
“Miss Green,” a loud voice called from the desk. “Miss Green?”
“Right here,” Hannah said as she walked over to the counter.
“Insurance information,” the nurse said without looking up.
After Hannah had completed her intake, the nurse led her to another waiting area. Moments later, an orderly took her and Chloe back to a room. Another nurse arrived a little while later to find the two girls sitting quietly on the bed, where Chloe was doing her best to console her friend.
“Well, what have we got here?” said the large, jolly nurse. Her long grey hair was pulled up into a messy bun that revealed the wrinkles on her face.
“I fell,” Hannah said, lifting her swollen wrist in the air.
“Uh-huh,” said the nurse as she came around and inspected it. “I can see that. Any other injuries?”
Hannah shook her head slowly. She was still in shock at seeing Sadiq. What was he doing in New York? Was he here to pursue her? Or maybe he was just back to his old playboy ways, looking for the next singer to take on tour around his homeland. She was so confused.
“Okay darling, let’s get a little X-ray and see exactly what we’ve got going on.” The nurse smiled and patted Hannah gently on the back as she and Chloe walked her down the hall to the X-ray room.
Chloe stayed with the nurse in a side room until the X-rays were done and then the two women returned to the room. A short, harassed-looking doctor appeared a few moments later with Hannah’s X-rays in his hand.
“Miss Green?” he asked, looking at both women.