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Bombshell

Page 4

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The sound problem apparently resolved, the man adjusted his bow tie, and grinned from ear-to-ear. “Welcome, Welcome. Welcome to the Misty Falls Semi-Annual Talent Show. I’m so excited you’re all here. We’ve got an amazing line up of talent to night, folks. And don’t forget - tonight’s winner will receive five hundred dollars. Show me the money, Florence.”

Merrick groaned. A talent show was the last thing he’d expected. As much as he wanted to set up the threesome with the horny cocktail waitress and her twin, he didn’t want to sit through some painful amateur hour.

He got up and put on his jacket, and made sure the note was deep in his jacket pocket. He pulled forty dollars out of his wallet, to cover his bill. He needed to split.

Wait a minute, you should stay. As crazy at it sounded, he couldn’t chase away some voice telling him to stick around. At least for one act. What if he found exactly who he was looking for? Keeping his jacket on, he sat back down.

A moment later, the show began, and Merrick instantly regretted his decision as the first act walked onto the stage.

The girl was more homely than pretty and in her late teens. She had a look of pure terror on her face, and she kept her head down, as she sat down on a stool in front of the mic. She put the strap over her shoulders and adjusted her guitar on her lap. A stagehand hurried to the stage adjusted the arm so it was midway between the guitar and her mouth.

The girl started playing her guitar, and the crowd got quiet. She played quite well, but when she opened her mouth to sing, Merrick cringed. Her voice wasn’t bad, but it was strained and barely audible. Nerves were getting the best of her. Merrick immediately felt sorry for her, because he hated public speaking – he couldn’t imagine what it was like to perform.

The young performer’s eyes darted around the room as the volume in the room from people talking quickly out shined her own failing voice. Seeing that she wasn’t being appreciated, her voice cracked even more. A burst of high pitched and loud laughter erupted at the table behind Merrick. He whipped his head around and glared at some busty women regaling her friends at full volume about some hysterical tale. Merrick’s face heated. Didn’t they know a young woman was putting herself on the line up there? Back on the stage, the girl faltered, messing up a chord. When Merrick caught a glimpse of her face, he saw that she was on the verge of tears. His jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists.

When the next roar of laughter came, Merrick had had enough. He slammed his fist on his table so hard it made a crashing noise and upset his empty glass. He pushed his chair back and moved to the table in a single stride. He towered over the rude woman and her friends, his fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to get his temper under control.

The bar fell silent, and the girl on stage gasped. A muscle moved in Merrick’s jaw. He was making a spectacle of himself.

The rude women rose from her chair, her friends trying to restrain her. She glared at Merrick, not the slightest bit intimidated. “What do you want?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Merrick could sense everyone was watching him. Don’t lose it. Be calm. Merrick forced himself to relax his hands. He took a step back and let his shoulders drop. He looked the rude women directly in the eye and said in what he thought was a reasonable and nonaggressive tone, “Please keep your voice down during the performances.”

The woman ripped herself out of her friends’ grasps and lumbered towards Merrick. Merrick stood his ground. She was a head shorter then him and smelled strongly of tequila and root beer. She got right into his face, or as close as she could considering he was almost seven feet tall, and she was around five foot, five, in her heels.

“What’s it to you? You got the hots for fatty up there?” She yelled.

Merrick was shocked and several people in the audience gasped. This women wasn’t just rude, she was cruel. He was grateful he didn’t have to see the hurt look in the girls’ eyes.

“I would appreciate it very much if you refrained from speaking about my daughter like that.” Merrick’s voice had an icy calm, but the threat implied seemed to galvanize the women’s friends. Or perhaps it was the daughter card. He couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that the rude women was hauled back to her seat and forced to be quiet, so the show could continue.

Merrick returned to his seat, and the girl started from the top. This time, she both played and sang much better. Merrick started to get uncomfortable, however, when he noticed how she was looking at him while she sang. The emcee had to pry the girl off the stage, because she wouldn’t stop bowing and curtsying, her eyes glimmering with admiration as if Merrick were the lead singer in the current most popular boy band.

As soon as the girl disappeared behind the portable curtain, Merrick decided he had seen enough. He’d been out of his mind to imagine he could find a real talent in a place like that. He wanted to get the hell out of there before his new fan came out from backstage and asked for his phone number.

The master of ceremonies yelled to the audience from off stage, “Now for our next act, put your hands together for Bombshell.”

Chapter Three

Merrick stood up, determined to leave before the next act came onstage. But suddenly the room went pitch black. Shouts of alarm morphed to oohs and ahhs as a powerful spotlight hummed to life. The wide white circle shrunk in diameter and moved slowly across the back wall of the stage. It landed on a portable curtain set up in front of the door to the back stage, and the light got even smaller as it waited for the performer called, Bombshell.

Intrigued, Merrick sat down again. A light clicked on over the piano, and the pianist began to play. A heartbeat later a voice filled the room. The small hairs on the backs of Merrick’s arms all rose at once. The angel’s voice was coming from behind the curtain. The voice sang no words, just hummed a tune. There were no other sounds, but the sounds of everyone in the room moving to the edge of their seats. The entire audience couldn’t wait to see who would come out from behind the curtain.

When a long-fingered hand suddenly appeared from behind the curtain, fingers moving like a belly dancer in the spot light, every set of lungs in the room drew in a simultaneous sharp breath. Merrick leaned forward.

He watched the hand, encased in a long white glove down a shapely arm which disappeared behind the curtain, only the white gloves showing. When the second hand came out to join the first in the spotlight, the tension in the room broke and there was a burst of excited chatter and applause.

The piano music played on, without the voice, but when the voice returned, this time singing actual words, the hair rose on his neck and on his legs. The audience went dead quiet, and Merrick finally recognized the song being sung. The angel with the sensual hands and incredible voice was “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend,” one of his favorites. Merrick felt himself being drawn into her spell as the white-gloved fingers danced to the rhythm of the music. He didn’t take his eyes off the hands, desperate to be the first one to catch a glimpse of the face and body that belonged to that voice.

When she finally appeared, Merrick swallowed. Around him, women shouted, men whistled, and everyone burst into applause. The spotlight illuminated the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Shrink-wrapped into a tight yellow dress, she moved like a slinky jungle cat, going in for the kill. Her voice was so strong she didn’t need a microphone, and Merrick couldn’t take his eyes off her as she danced and sang her way across the stage.

Around

him, Merrick could sense the thrill coming from the audience. She had them eating out of her hand. No one was talking or checking their cell phone. Even the bartender stopped pouring drinks. Something warm flowed from deep inside his chest. He knew what it meant. She’s the one. I’ve found my star.

Elated at his amazing good luck, Merrick focused on the girl. She’d gone through the whole song once, but showed no signs of stopping. Even though the song was familiar, the singer was using an unusual arrangement, and when she gestured to the pianist, he began a solo that Merrick was pretty sure hadn’t been part of the original score.

As the piano played, the girl ratcheted up her performance by danced her way down the steps, and into the audience. Like a dance hall performer in some Western movie, she flirted and teased her way around the room, her curvaceous body moving to the rhythm of the piano music. As she approached his table, Merrick felt his mouth go dry. The spotlight shown on her. On stage, she’d been stunning, but this close, it was like looking into the chocolate sun. She leaned forward, giving Merrick a mouthwatering view of her rack. He gulped, wanting to say something, but he was unable to utter a sound. Her mocha eyes sparkled as they locked on his. He felt paralyzed by the force of her beauty.



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