I have a book of sheet music for the band, which I told them I’d lay out on their music stands before they got here. I guess I’ll do that now. I open my notebook, and?—
Shit!
The rings popped open. Looseleaf paper flies everywhere. I get down on my knees to gather the music as best as I can, but it’s strewn all over the dance floor. I look up just as one of the waiters approaches. He’s wearing the same outfit as the other men—tiny shorts and a bare chest. On the black shorts are little hearts, and on his right shoulder is the letter J.
I grin. “The Jack of Hearts, I presume?”
He nods, his eyes bright.
I extend a hand. “I’m Bianca. The new singer.”
Again he nods as he shakes my hand.
I narrow my eyes. “Are you not supposed to speak?”
He shakes his head, pantomiming locking a key against the corner of his mouth.
“Why?”
He shrugs.
“Well… Nice to meet you.”
The more I get to know this club’s culture, the less I like. Chet’s a freaking weirdo, and now the waitstaff can’t speak.
The pianist might have mentioned that when we rehearsed the other day, come to think of it. I wasn’t listening much. I think my musicians aren’t allowed to speak either. Maybe that’s why we had to rehearse offsite.
Jack—I guess that’s what I’m supposed to call him—kneels and helps me collect the rest of the sheet music. He points to the title of one of the pieces—“I Put a Spell on You”—and pats his heart.
“You like that one? I’d only ever heard of it because of Bette Midler singing it in Hocus Pocus.”
He drops his jaw into an open-mouthed smile and pats at his heart again.
“You like that movie?”
He nods vigorously.
“Well, maybe we can hang out sometime. Have a movie night.” I smirk. “I realize it’s June, but you don’t need to wait until October to watch Hocus Pocus. Or we can watch something else. I don’t have any local friends. Maybe tonight?”
He nods again.
“Perfect.” I rip off a corner from one of the pieces of sheet music and jot down my address. “This is my apartment. It’s not too far from here. Walkable.”
He frowns for a moment, but then takes the paper and gives me a thumbs-up.
It’s a date.
Well, that wasn’t a complete disaster. I sang through my set half a dozen times this evening, and I received a warm ovation from the Aces patrons. My voice is tired, but I’ll steam when I get home tonight.
Except I invited Jack over. Right.
He seems nice enough. Hopefully he isn’t a complete weirdo. I probably should have determined that before inviting him to my place.
I’m walking out, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Chet, when Jack waylays me in the alleyway. He’s changed into a tight T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts.
“How’d you get here? Were you behind me?”
He shakes his head. “Waitstaff entrance. Around the corner.”
