Her voice carries a hint of frustration.
“I’ve sung for him three times. Each time he says he’s interested, and then nothing.”
I notice Carlos across the square, watching our conversation with undisguised interest. He raises his glass in acknowledgment when he catches my eye.
“I wish I could help,” I say, quickly looking away from him.
Laughter carries through the crowd, and I notice Paul’s musicians nearby, chatting and joking on their break.
I nod towards the bandstand. “Why don’t you get up there and show the world what you can do?”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s Paul. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you stepped up to join them during the next set.”
Sade laughs like I said something funny. “Ah. Then you don’t know Paul. He’s a stickler for order. No deviation from his set list.”
“Nonsense. He invited me to sing before he even knew singing was my passion.”
“Here at the market?” She shrugs. “That’s just pro bono work he’s doing for the village. But tonight’s a paid gig, and a big one.”
“You never know until you ask.”
“I couldn’t,” she says, shaking her head.
“Then I’ll do it for you. Follow me.” I take her hand and lead her to Paul. He greets us with friendly hugs and multiple kisses on the cheek.
“I was trying to talk Sade into performing tonight,” I tell him. “All the music VIPs are here. It would be a perfect showcase for her.”
He looks reluctant. “She’s not on the approved schedule.”
“Have you heard her sing?” I counter.
“Yes. Of course.”
“Then she passes muster?”
He gives Sade an assessing look. “Of course. She’s dazzling on stage.”
“Look, Sterling hired you, right? If you get in trouble, just tell him Slayer’s girlfriend made you do it. I’ll take the rap.”
“I don’t know, Bix. Heads can roll. I don’t care about myself, but my band depends on me financially. I can’t risk it.”
“I’ll help out if?—”
Paul stops me with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re right. I don’t have any money of my own. But I’ll ask Slayer to pay. Give Sade a chance. Please? Pretty please?”
He looks again at Sade, and a sly smile quirks his mouth. “Okay... But only one song.”
We walk toward the bandstand, and Sade climbs the steps to the stage as the musicians take their places.
I watch as she turns to speak to them. They nod their understanding.
“Hello, everyone,” she says, addressing the audience. “I’m so excited this evening to sing a song for all of you. Many of you knowme as Sade, the server, working parties and clubs. Yet most of you don’t know that I’ve been singing these past five years.”
I look around. No one’s really listening. Most partygoers are engrossed in eating or gossiping.
