He tilts his head and studies me. ‘Proposal woman?’
‘Yes.’ I sigh.
‘Knock yourself out,’ he says, grinning. ‘By the way, we were all rooting for the other fella. The hot Latino one, not the posh show-off one.’
‘Me too.’ I giggle.
‘Mind if I stay and listen?’ he asks. ‘While I set up the tables?’
Yikes. An audience so soon?‘Well, I only just wrote it. I was just sort of practising really.’ My nerves have just plummeted through the floor, down through the layers of rock to the earth’s core. Such is the sensitive nature of a creative’s confidence.
‘I promise, you won’t even realise I’m here,’ he says, wiping down the tables.
I swallow a lump in my throat. I guess he is doing me a favour instead of throwing me out. I will simply keep my eyes closed and pretend he’s not here. ‘Yep. Sure. No problem.’
‘What’s it called?’
‘“Matteo the Magnificent, Volume One”.’
I shrug.
I prop my phone up on the piano, press record and spread my fingers across the keys, ready to go. My wedding ring twinkles in the solitary light swinging above the piano. I take a beat to admire it. The smoothness of the shape. The contrast of the platinum band against the raised gold running round the middle. A warmth spreads through my body as I cast my mind back to Matteo sliding it on my finger, his eyes not leaving mine. I hear Elvis’s words echo round my brain as though he is standing in front of me. ‘The ring is only a symbol. It shows the world that you belong to someone, just as they belong to your heart. But as you wear them, it’s your care, devotion, and concern for one another that are the true signs of your love.’
I play the opening chords and hear the shy sound of my voice lifting the words, teasing them out, releasing them into the world. I forget all about the waiter listening. Just like with the Sinfonia, I’m at my best when I completely let go and exist only in the moment. Flashes of me on stage push me to reach for those higher notes, stretching them, controlling them with precision.
By the time the second verse and chorus come around, I am belting out this tune for all it’s worth. It seems to take on a new life, a new fire. My eyes are clamped shut and all I can hear is my own breath as my fingers crash down on to the piano keys. I am no longer in full control. All of the tension of the past few days rushes from my body. All of the gruelling practice I put in for the opera tour is paying off big time. All the sexy and sass taught to me by the Dollz has given me an edge. A perfect melting pot of my singing experience to date.
I AM ON FIRE.
When I finish the song on the haunting melody that I began with, I am breathless. I hear the waiter slow clapping. He is joined by a few more people clapping.Gah!My eyes spring open.
The waiter is beaming. Next to him, Matteo is standing watching me. He gives me a long, burning look before he strides across the room and pulls me into a passionate kiss. ‘Connie,’ he says in a hoarse voice when we break free. ‘That was… magnificent.’
I immediately blush. He’s already guessed half the song title.
‘You wrote that?’
I nod.
‘Just now?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Wow.’
I blush even deeper. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘We were on our way to the recording studio when I heard you singing.’ Matteo points to a security team at the bar entrance and Birdie staring at me with a stunned expression on her face. My chest is pounding as I’m rooted to the piano stool. ‘You have a really powerful voice. It carries. Like a really long way.’
‘Blame the Sinfonia,’ I say. ‘Was it too powerful?’ I’m desperate for more praise.
‘No. Not at all. It was perfect. What’s it called?’
Busted.
My face is a raging furnace.
Matteo laughs. ‘I see.’ He rubs his face. ‘Oh, man. I will never tire of this.’
