“She has mentioned the notes. Has more happened?”
“Well, there was an oboist who was always trying to flirt with the Maestro.” At her nod, I continue. “She must have done something to get on the wrong side of the Dark Angel because she quit.”
Meg takes up the story. “Apparently she got in her car and the shifter knob and steering wheel were covered in latex powder. She’s allergic and broke into hives.”
Madame nods. “Definitely the Dark Angel. I wonder what caused her to return. Or whom.”
“Right?” Meg says, taking another bite. “There was also a note. Something to the effect of, ‘Leave or next time it will be more than hives.’“ She intones the last part in a deep voice.
“At first, she tried to blame Christianna. When Remy asked why she would think it was her, she turned bright red and saidnevermind. I think she was the one who left the article on my music stand.”
“Then things are as they should be. Some people need harsher lessons than others to be good.”
As dinner ends, we take her for the tour.
In the dance room, she walks in and turns around.
Her gaze finds her daughter.
“You have been dancing again. Your knee is better.”
Meg looks at her mother and changes the subject. “David Earl wants a ballet mistress and choreographer. He wanted your contact information.”
“My time has passed. You do it.”
“I’m an assistant, Mama,” Meg protests.
“Non. You are a prima ballerina with exquisite discipline. Keep using your fake name and take the position.” She turns to me. “Show me the rest of the house, Christianna.”
Chapter ninety-two
Christianna
“We did it,” I crow as the taillights of the town car pull out of the driveway. “We definitely deserve wine.”
“I need to get rid of all the nervous energy. Swim and hot tub, then wine,” Meg decrees.
I nod.
Meg gives me a wicked smile. “Should we skinny dip?”
“If we turn out the lights, just in case.”
We both race for the pool and Meg kills the outdoor lights. All that are on are small solar path lights.
The water shimmers darkly under the moonlight.
Meg snaps her fingers. “Towels. I’ll be right back.” She heads into her bungalow to grab them while I kick off my shoes.
I sit at the edge of the pool and put my feet in, and lean back and look up into the dark night. There is a bit of cloud cover, so I can’t see the stars, but the moon shifts in and out of sight through them.
Meg returns with a towel tucked around her, clothes already gone. She tosses me the other one. Bright white against thedarkness. I move to set it on the lounger and realize the Notes are still in the house.
Grabbing the towel, I dry off my feet so I can get them.
“Stop!” I hiss at Meg, who has just dropped her towel and is about to dive in.
She freezes.
