“Erik Leroux?” Her smile turned megawatt and probably would have rivaled the brightness of the spotlight as she extended her hand. “With a name like that, Lattie, it must be fate that brought him to us.”
Erik offered a tight-lip smile, not wanting to scare her with his teeth, and took her hand. It was soft and fragile-looking, but her grip was firm as she said, “Nice to meetyou, Erik.”
“And you.”
He didn’t want to let go. The ballcap still shaded her eyes, but he knew they were hazel-green, and the hair tucked underneath it, but for a few strands that had escaped, was a soft brown. Her skin tone was light with a smattering of freckles, her bone structure delicate, and she continued to smile at him with those straight white teeth. Pictures hadn’t done her justice. It seemed impossible to imagine, but the woman was even more beautiful than her voice.
He’d held on too long, they both knew it, but she didn’t call him out on it, nor did she try to snatch back her hand. Reluctantly, he finally released her and put some space between them.
“Well, I hope you’re prepared to wow Lattie.” In a stage whisper that was clearly meant to tease, she confided, “He has a vision, don’t you know.”
Lattimer’s chest puffed up as he grinned good naturedly. “One must have standards, my dear.” He turned to Erik. “Shall we?”
Honestly, he’d rather stay here and listen to her sing some more, but he needed to remember what he was here for.
Erik nodded just as Lattimer’s face fell into a somewhat bemused frown. He looked at Chloe, who had stood back up. “Where’s Danny?” He stretched his neck to look toward the back of the stage. “I thought he was practicing with you today.” To Erik, he clarified, “He’s our Raoul.”
Chloe shook her head. “I don’t know. He texted me that he was running a little behind, but I thought he’d be here by now.” She pulled a phone from her back pocket. “I’ll give him a call.”
Lattimer nodded, and as Chloe walked to the back of the stage, her phone to her ear, the older man motioned for Erik to follow him. “Let’s go to my office. You can see my storyboards.” He smirked. “Or as Chloe told you…” He extended his arms in an expansive gesture. “Myvision.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Back at the apartment where Erik would be staying temporarily, so he was close to the opera house, he sat on the couch. It was a small, furnished studio apartment, tastefully decorated in earth tones. Nothing fancy, but then, he didn’t need much. One wall of windows let in plenty of natural light if he wanted to paint, and kept him from feeling claustrophobic in the space. Plus, the acoustics were good when he wanted to listen to music. Add to that, there was food in the fridge, and a place for him to sleep, so he was all set.
Turning on some Pavarotti to play softly in the background, he pulled out his phone to call Jayla.
She answered on the first ring. “Did you get the job?”
“I did.” There’d been a tense few minutes there, though, when Lattimer had first looked at Erik’s website. The older man’s face had fallen as he perused the site, his eyelids fluttering rapidly fora moment, and Erik wondered if the guy was going to turn him away.
Finally, Lattimer had cleared his throat and looked up at Erik, almost as if he was heartbroken. “You understand we have a very strict budget for sets. I’m not sure what you were expecting to be paid, but…”
“Whatever you can afford to pay me,” Erik had quickly cut in. He wasn’t there for the money.
Lattimer had looked back at his laptop screen with his mouth open, like he was in shock, before returning his eyes to Erik. “But you’re a master, my boy. Your work should be proudly displayed in galleries. You should be lauded, celebrated, not a footnote in a playbill.”
In a rare moment of teasing, Erik cocked his head. “Are you trying to talk me out of working for you?”
The older man had jumped to his feet. “Absolutely not!” He thrust his hand toward Erik, and when Erik took it, Lattimer gripped it with both hands and pumped it vigorously with a beaming smile. “Welcome aboard, my boy! Welcome aboard!”
“How about you?” he asked Jayla. “Everything set?”
“I’ve got eyes and ears in her apartment, access to her Ring camera, hallways monitored, plus a three-sixty exterior view of the building.”
“You’ve got eyes on her now?”
“Yup. She’s chopping vegetables in her kitchen and listening to that classical stuff you like.”
That piqued his interest. “What is she listening to?”
“I don’t know. Here. You tell me.”
Jayla turned up the volume, and Erik heard the familiar sound ofThe Sleeping Beautybefore she turned the sound down again.
“That’s Tchaikovsky,” he told her, though he doubted she cared. “Anyone stop by?”
“Nope. All’s quiet.”
