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Bruno breaks through my crying, his voice sounding pained. “Aw, hell, Andi. I know that it’s not your fault. You were my best, most responsible performer I had before that fuckwad of an ex. Plus, you’re the best Nightingale I’ve ever had. I swear half the regulars are here because of you . . . but I gotta run a business and . . .”

Another sob tries to make it out, but I ruthlessly squelch it, not wanting to be more of a baby than I have been. Unfortunately, it comes out as a whimper, a pitiful sound, crystalline in its clarity, that cuts through Bruno’s words. He stops, and I look up. We stare at each other for a long moment, my body tensing for the inevitable disappointing blow.

Instead, the club owner sighs. “Fuck. Fuck! Fine, look, Andi,” he points at me, “you’re not fired.”

Shock followed closely by relief flows through me. “I’m not?”

The big man sighs again. “No. Not yet anyway. But this shit can’t fly anymore, got it? You gotta be here every night and early, not late.”

Dread trickles down my spine, banishing the relief. There’s no way I can promise that. I can’t control Colton. This is a stay of execution at best. Still, I smile gratefully as the lie passes easily over my lips. “I will, I promise.”

Bruno looks at me with a skeptical brow, as if he knows I’m not telling the truth. How could I be? Still, he nods his head, as if sealing the bargain.

“Look, I’m giving you the weekend off, okay?” I open my mouth to protest, but his glare makes me think better of it. “Take the next few days and fix your problem. Bribe someone, make your ex disappear, take him back, I don’t care. Whatever it takes, I just don’t want to hear about it. This is seriously the last chance I can give you. Don’t waste it.”

Not really sure how to respond, I just nod. That’s apparently all he’s looking for because Bruno just says, “Now get out. I gotta do payroll.”

I scurry out before the man can change his mind. I swear, before the door closes behind me, I hear him mutter, “Fuckin’ sopranos with their fuckin’ big blue eyes.” And then I’m standing in the hallway, with only the distant sounds of the show to keep me company.

I take a deep, cleansing breath, the backstage air cool on my wet cheeks. I realize that I’m still holding Bruno’s pocket square, and I wipe my face. The silk is dingy and stained now, the bright blue almost black. I definitely owe him a new one, if I can afford it.

Glancing down the hallway, I desperately wish for my compact so that I can clean up a little before I head back to the dressing room. I’m sure I look terrible, and everyone’s going to assume that I was fired. It’ll be a big ole’ flurry of emotions, and I just can’t deal right now. Luckily, the next best thing pops her platinum-blonde head around the corner.

“Andi? Goddess, you look terrible!” Jade exclaims, bounding to me and wrapping me in an enormous hug. I collapse into her a little. It’s been a long night, and I haven’t even done the midnight show yet.

We pull apart, and Jade inspects me, the look on her beautiful face growing thunderous. “That fucking Styx-damned bastard! Well, guess we’re both gonna be unemployed, because I’m about to beat his hexed ass right into the pavement.”

I laugh, a slightly hysterical sound, but after everything, I need a laugh. Jade, with her feisty fire and weird, made-up Wiccan swears, is like a burst of sunshine on this terrible, dark day.

“It looks worse than it is,” I say, pulling her back from rapping on Bruno’s door. “I’m not fired yet, so you’ll have to save the beating for another day.”

Jade whirls around. “Really? That’s fantastic. Word around backstage was that you were history. Clem said he heard Bruno saying he was giving you the ax and Jasmine was practically writing up a program to take your spot, that bitch. Should’ve known it was just showpeople inflating gossip.”

“Not really,” I admit. “Pretty sure that’s why he called me back here. But then I burst into tears like a dumb baby, and he gave me one last chance.”

“Wow,” Jade says, looking impressed.

“I know. Who knew the bulldog of La Couronne Bleu was weak to tears?”

“That’s the thing, though, doll,” Jade says, pulling the pocket square from my hand and gently wiping my face. “He’s not. Bruno deals with overly emotional artsy types all the time. He’s immune to hysterics, and I’ve heard he gets meaner if you cry. He must really have a soft spot for you.”

That confuses me. Sure, Bruno cast me a year back, and other than the last few months, we’ve never really had problems. However, he’s definitely never shown me any sort of preference before. I was even pretty surprised he had nice things to say about me in our meeting, since the only time he seems to pay attention to me is when I’m late.

Thinking about it reminds me of something he said. “Well, he said that I’m the most popular Nightingale he’s ever cast or something like that. Maybe he’s being merciful because of that?”

“I can definitely see Bruno being ‘merciful’ because it benefits him,” Jade agrees, finishing up with my face. I’ll need to reapply my makeup, but that’s not much of a hardship. “And your voice is amazing. I still don’t see why you stay at this rundown place. Go off to Nashville, grab yourself a record deal and never look back, sweetie.”

“Ha ha, very funny. Even if I were one of those one-in-a-million girls to get discovered, my heart is in jazz,” I argue. “And even if I found a label that would let me sing what I want to sing and not try to mold me into something commercial, there wouldn’t be the history that’s here in New Orleans, and I definitely wouldn’t be singing at the oldest standing jazz club in the world.” My impassioned tirade slips a little as my troubles seep back into my thoughts.

“Plus, being more high profile isn’t exactly what I need right now.”

Jade winces. “Sorry. Forgot about your evil shadow for a second. Sure you don’t want me to hex him?” She grins evilly and sing-songs, “I-can-make-his-junk-fall-off . . .”

I smile a little ruefully. Jade is fully into her Wiccan thing, with a coven and everything, which I can respect, having grown up around it, but call me skeptical. Magic has never really had much to do with my life.

I don’t say that, though. “Tempting, but no thanks. Granny Jean always says that curses have a way of bouncing back on casters. Hurting Colton isn’t worth hurting you.”

“Ah, yes. The wise and powerful Granny Jean. Someday you have to introduce me to her; she sounds like a bad-ass wisewoman.”