Angel didn’t look so sure, but he let her make it almost to the elevator before scooping her up in his arms like they’d just gotten married and he was carrying her over the threshold.
“Icanwalk,” Markie replied. “You don’t have to do this.”
“But I want to. Be quiet, woman, and let me prove to you how big and strong I am.”
She smiled and leaned against him, making herself comfortable. “I already know, baby.”
***
We took a cab to The Acropolis, where we were escorted to the table directly in front of the stage. Because of its central location, it left us exposed. No matter where I sat, there were occupied tables at my back. We should have brought more security, but Angel had assured me everything would be fine, insisting that more security would make him look weak.
Angel knew what he was doing, but I still felt uneasy as I pulled out Ariana’s chair for her before sitting beside her.
“Where’s Nonna?” Ariana asked, scanning the room.
“She likes to make an entrance, but she’ll be here,” Angel assured her.
The words had barely left his mouth when Nonna and her entourage entered. She had four guards with her, and as she approached our table, they peeled off to cover the room. Nonna was an elderly woman who could have as much security as her heart desired… Security that would also protect Angel without making him appear weak.
I glanced at my friend and gave him a look that I’m sure told him I knew what he’d done. He nodded back at me.
We all stood and greeted Nonna. As soon as we sat, the waitress circled the table collecting drink orders. Like always when I was working, I stuck with water.
“Thank you, Nonna,” Ariana said, giving the old lady another hug. “I can’t believe you did this. You haven’t even heard me sing. What if I go up there and embarrass you?”
“I’m sure my reputation would recover,” Nonna said, taking a seat. “But I’m also sure you’ll do fine. You’re Markie’s sister, which makes you family, and there is nothing my family could do to embarrass me.”
Markie had risked her neck to save Nonna’s youngest grandchildren, and Nonna wouldn’t soon forget that. In fact, I didn’t think there was a mountain she wouldn’t move for Markie.
The pianist finished up his number, and then angled the microphone so he could speak into it. “Tonight, we have a very special treat for you,” he said. “One of our honored guests is celebrating her twenty-first birthday, and I’ve heard she’s quite the songbird. I’d like to invite her to share the stage with me. Friends, please join with me in welcoming Ariana Davis to the stage.”
“Knock ’em dead,” Markie said, squeezing her sister’s arm. “Show them why you belong on that stage.”
Ariana glanced at me, and I gave her a bolstering smile. “You got this, babe.”
She gave me a grateful smile and headed up. Her hands shook slightly as she accepted the microphone from the pianist. She lowered the mic and said something to him before nodding and taking a deep breath.
The pianist sat. Then clean, crisp notes once again filled the building. The intro came and went, but Ariana did not raise the microphone to her lips. Her eyes were full of fear as she took in the room. My stomach sank, wondering if this had been a mistake.
“Come on, Ari, you’ve got this,” Markie muttered.
The pianist slowed his notes and came back around to repeat the intro. This time, Ariana raised the mic and sang the first line of the verse, sounding hesitant and barely audible. Restaurant chatter started up, drowning her soft notes out.
Markie leaned forward in her chair, as if to run up and rescue her sister.
Ariana stopped midnote and said something to the pianist. He nodded and wound down again as she replaced the microphone in the stand. Wondering if she was giving up, I watched, but she didn’t step down from the stage. Instead, the intro restarted. A look of determination glowed behind Ariana’s eyes. She took a deep breath, and this time, when she opened her mouth, there was zero hesitation.
Her strong, powerful alto owned the room, snapping all conversations to a halt as it dipped and rose, flirting and promising. The entire restaurant fell silent, captivated by her song. By the time she reached the chorus, we were enslaved. She grabbed hold of the microphone stand and belted out soul-filled notes, riding the bluesy-jazzy edge of the song like an orphan raised on the streets of the deep south.
I watched her glow with passion and power, realizing I was seeing her in her element for the first time. Beyond the sarcastic, struggling orphan girl who almost died trying to escape reality, she was this woman—this perfect, enchanting, passionate woman, and I loved every damaged inch of her. Like the rest of the crowd, I gobbled up the sight and sound of her, like an addict shooting up after a long dry spell. She entered my veins and lingered, soothing, calming, enchanting. The song ended too soon, leaving me wanting more.
The restaurant loved her. She got a standing ovation as she handed the pianist back his microphone. He accepted it long enough to ask the crowd if they wanted to hear more. Enthusiastic cheering encouraged Ariana and the pianist to put their heads together and come up with two more songs. She performed them just as perfectly as she did the first.
While Ariana sang, Angel spoke in hushed tones to Nonna. Shock ran across the old woman’s expression. Her gaze turned to me, and her eyes widened before flooding with tears. She blinked them away and went back to her conversation with Angel. Wondering what they were saying, I stayed where I was and kept my attention firmly on Ariana. No doubt some of Nonna’s security reported back to Carlo, and I didn’t want to give him any reason to question me.
The kitchen held our food back until Ariana thanked the crowd and the pianist and rejoined our table. She sat and sipped her cocktail, her face flush and her eyes bright with excitement.
“You nailed it!” Markie said, giving her a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
