Maji watched Roger finalizing Erlea’s makeup for the opening number. “Nervous?”
“Only about the finale,” Erlea said.
Roger looked between them. “Well, that’s why you’ve got an understudy, innit?”
“Yeah,” Maji said. “I’ve got the moves down and nobody will guess it’s not you.” Roger didn’t know about the anticipated shooting, so she added for good measure, “What with my flawless lip-synching.”
Alejandro popped his head into the do shop. “Ten minutes to curtain.” He spotted Maji. “And Nigel’s coming to give his pep talk.” He ducked back out, chatting on his headset as he went.
“Out of sight with you, then,” Roger said to Maji with a wink. To Erlea he added, “Don’t worry. You probably won’t need her, and either way he’ll never know.”
“Thanks, Rog,” Erlea said as Maji hid herself.
The door swung open again, and Nigel strode in. “Nearly ready then?”
“As I’m ever going to be,” Erlea replied.
“You’re a rock star, dear,” Nigel said. “The crowd out there is wild for you already. Chanting your name. Just go out there and do what you always do. Knock ’em dead.”
“Nigel,” Erlea said. “Sod off.”
“There’s my girl,” Nigel said with a wink. As he left he tossed back, “I’ll be watching.”
Maji waited a few minutes to come back out, got the all clear on the comm from Dave, and gave Erlea a hug.
“I just wish we could warn Celeste,” Erlea whispered. “She’s going to be furious with both of us.”
“We’ll all live through it,” Maji promised. And hoped she was right.
* * *
At intermission, Celeste waited in the line for a glass of wine with Maria and Jordi.
“I can’t believe we’ve never seen her live,” Maria gushed. “She’s incredible. Nothing like the shy homebody we know.”
“Now, how can you say that?” Jordi replied. “We saw her play clubs for years before she got famous. She had a stage presence even back then. Admittedly, the arrangements are more complex, the instrumentals more layered…”
“Sexy, you fool. She’s on fire up there.” Maria looked to Celeste for confirmation. “Am I wrong?”
“No,” Celeste said. “Half the people in this theater want to go home with her, I’m sure.” Including me.
Jordi squinted at her. “You’re not jealous, are you? Despite her reputation, you have nothing to worry about.”
“Oh no. I mean, we’re not…that is, we’re friends.” The sight of Reimi with a date on her arm saved Celeste from having to defend that assertion. She waved at them.
Reimi introduced Celeste to the dapper butch who appeared thoroughly smitten with her, and Celeste introduced them to Maria and Jordi.
“You are neighbors?” Reimi exclaimed. “That must be so exciting. Think of the parties,” she said to her date.
The lights blinked and the chimes tolled, calling them back to their seats.
As they walked back to the VIP section, Maria said, “I loved that woman’s tuxedo.”
“She has the build to carry it off,” Jordi said. “I should have asked where she got it. It would look good on me, don’t you think?”
“Almost as good,” Maria replied.
Reimi seemed to think so, Celeste thought with satisfaction. She made a note to tell Maji. Hopefully she’d get to see her backstage after the show and introduce her to Jordi and Maria.
* * *
Maji watched Celeste and Erlea’s friends resettle into their seats. In the next box up, she spotted Dr. Lyttleton and his very young petite blond wife. Even if it meant waiting, or learning to live with an ugly souvenir on her shoulder, she was not giving him her money.
“Aguilar’s guy is out, ours is in place,” Dave said through her earpiece.
“I hope you got somebody really good,” Maji said. “There’s people at home who need me back in one piece.”
“And ye shall be delivered, Rios,” Dave said. “We got you Taylor. He volunteered.”
Maji let out a sigh of relief. Tom had made it through Fallujah with barely a scratch. He was not only like a brother to her, but he was also the best sniper she’d ever known. If she had to get shot very precisely while in motion in the air, he was her top choice. “Hallelujah.”
“Glad to bear some good news,” Dave said with a smile in his voice. “Enjoy the show.”
The crowd roared as the house lights went down for the second half of the concert. Erlea strutted onto the stage, belting out one of her top-grossing songs. Hands reached up toward her as she bounced down the catwalk, flinging sweat from her hair. Solo, she ruled the stage. And then the dancers came out and she shared the glory, syncing with them and the aerialists overhead.
Maji watched the second half from her spot in the wings, obscured from the crowd and dressed in Erlea’s finale costume. During the song before the finale, she pulled the harness on and checked the calibration. If Tom missed his target on her back, she wouldn’t be around to care. But it would gut him. And everyone at home had too much pain already. She double-checked everything before announcing into her comm, “Rigged up and ready to roll.”
“If you need to sing along, don’t worry, your mic’s not live,” Dave said. “But remember I can hear you, so take pity.”
“Fuck you, Brown.”
“Now I know you’re ready,” Dave replied. “Erlea’s set on vocals.”
And the rifle’s in Tom’s hands, Maji reassured herself. “Rios out.”
When the big finale arrived, Erlea stepped out in the costume matching Maji’s and danced and sang through the first three verses as planned. Then she left her backup dancers and stepped into the wings still singing, just long enough for Nigel to think she was harnessing up. She gave Maji a kiss on the cheek, looking worried.
Maji flashed her a grin and stepped out to the roar of the crowd and the glare of lights. As the final verse kicked in, she sang along. It helped keep her in sync, made her feel connected to Erlea as the crowd watched their idol. With a silent prayer, she lined up the run to the wall. Just play a perfect game, Rios.
As she ran through the air toward the outstretched arms in the window and the wall tilted away, Maji cleared her mind. Then she felt the bungee catch and took a breath just as the bullet slammed into her back. The shove from the impact met the backward pull of the bungee, and she dropped to the stage several feet short of the normally rehearsed landing point.
The dancers swarmed over to her, abandoning their elegant moves as the curtain fell prematurely. Maji struggled to breathe, aware of the band finishing the song without Erlea’s vocals as several pairs of feet ran toward her. Dave scooped her up and carried her off the stage as Alejandro used the PA system to ask the audience to remain seated.
“Technical difficulties my ass,” Maji gasped as the air finally returned to her lungs.
* * *
Celeste stood. Why had Erlea fallen like that? She had rehearsed so relentlessly. No, something was terribly wrong. “I have to go,” she said, climbing over Jordi and Maria to reach the aisle. She pushed her way through the other concertgoers who were beginning to mill about, restless.
“Just a few more minutes, ladies and gentlemen,” Alejandro announced, first in Spanish, then English, and finally in German.
Celeste reached the stage, where a line of security posted up to keep fans from rushing over the top. “I’m a doctor!” Celeste yelled, waving frantically. They ignored her. She spotted Santxo and called his name. He motioned the guard nearest her to help her up.
Celeste scrambled onto the stage with his help, then ran for the curtain. She batted her way frantically through the heavy velvet. And there, calmly tuning a guitar, was Erlea.
“I told her it would scare you,” Erlea said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh my God,” Celeste said, grabbing Erlea by the collar and kissing her face all over. “I thought they’d shot you for real this time.”
Erlea hushed her with a kiss. She was most definitely alive, and unhurt. Salty with sweat, and very warm.
“Two minutes,” Alejandro said. “Please come with me, Doctor, unless you want to be in the show.”
Erlea let her go. “I’ll explain everything later. Wait in the wings?”
Celeste let Alejandro lead her into the shadows and to a chair. He stood by her side, calling commands to the crew. The crowd grew quiet, then cheered and stomped as the curtain rose again. When Erlea, alone on a stool in the spotlight, began to play her acoustic guitar, the rowdy audience hushed.
Tears rolled down Celeste’s face as she listened to the cat song in its entirety for the first time. It could be about Athena. But Celeste wondered how many women listening out there in the dark felt, like her, that Erlea was singing about them. And that someone special understood them so well, and loved them in all their wildness.
* * *
“Sorry about the ribs,” Tom said, holding Maji’s hand as she lay in the hospital bed.
Damn it was good to see him. “Stop, akhi.” He blushed when she called him brother. “They’re only hairline fractures. I’ll take it easy a few weeks, be good as new.”
“You better, or those little girls will kick your ass,” Dave said. He looked to Tom. “She’s using her leave to teach teens self-defense at some summer camp.”
“What do you know about that?” Maji asked. Only Hannah could have told him.
Dave smiled. “I’ll let you know the minute you can call home. But I got clearance to tell you to stay put, take care of what you came here to do. Doctor’s orders.”
Ava? “Orders—or last wishes?”
“Same, same. Point is, you heal up right. We’re almost done here, but there’s plenty waiting for you when you’re recouped.”
“What are you wrapping up?” Tom asked. “I need to drop Echeverra in Bilbao and meet my team to round up our HVTs in the Nuvoletta.” He smiled at Maji. “Then I’m taking an actual break like you. Visiting family in Philly, not teaching any little future operators. My sisters may kick my ass, though. They think I avoid going home. Course, they might be right.”
Maji started to laugh, then stopped with a gasp when the pain hit her. “Don’t do that.”
Tom gave her a sorry-not-sorry look. “Back to you, Dave.”
“You would have laughed if you’d heard Nigel on the phone with Aguilar. He was furious Erlea survived. Good thing he’s in custody—for his own safety.”
“Hilarious,” Maji said. “I think the meds are kicking in. Why did they give me so much?”
“Face it, Rios,” Tom said with affection. “You’re just a lightweight.”
* * *
Maji woke herself yelling. She searched Tom’s face in the half-light as he tried to calm her.
“Jesus, it hurts,” she said.
He nodded. “Should I call a nurse?”
“No. I’m okay.” Her back stopped spasming as she breathed shallowly. “Okay. I was dreaming. About Fallujah.”
Tom looked worried, but he didn’t interrupt.
“It was different than usual. This time I ran, and instead of picking up the AK, I started scooping up children. One after another, picking them up and carrying them, trying to get them out with me.” She stared at him. “I’m rewriting the narrative. What I wish I’d done.”
“Rios,” he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, “that’s not so far off. You saved a bunch of people by taking Mashriki down. Women, kids. Maybe your brain’s letting you finally see the good side, take credit where credit’s due.”
“I don’t want credit. I just want my life back. The one where I’m the good guy.”
Tom took her hand. “What we went through, you’re never the same again. You just go forward, do a little good where you can. Only thing you can do. Right?”
That didn’t seem like enough, but Maji didn’t have the strength to argue. “How’s Erlea?”
“Healthy and happy. She and that pretty Frenchwoman wanted to come see you.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
“Well, I’m prepping to leave with Echeverra. Can he come in for a minute?”
“Sure.”
Arturo Echeverra sat shyly by her bedside, hands in his lap. “You saved my daughter’s life. I wanted to thank you, and to let you to know that I will testify against the Nuvoletta.”
“Will you go back into hiding then?” Maji hated to think of Erlea losing him twice.
“No. Once the peace talks are concluded, if the Nuvoletta wants to get me they will know where I am. Hiding would only endanger my family, and I will not do that. But for the sins I committed to buy their help, I must atone. I spent many years in prayer, in a monastery not unlike the Real Cartuja. But repentance is not atonement. To restore harmony, I must take actions that help others. Even if I cannot undo the harm I did in the past.”
Maji thought of the lives she’d destroyed in a few minutes of unbridled fury in Fallujah, and of the ones she had helped preserve here. “How do you know when it’s safe to forgive yourself?”
“Myself, I don’t seek absolution. I suppose the will to go forward is forgiveness enough.”
* * *
“That was amazing,” Maria said as she snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray. “But why did the curtain stay down so long? What was the technical difficulty?”
Erlea saw that Roger was waiting to hear as well. And Celeste, who knew Maji was hospitalized, but not why. She took her hand. “The difficulty was that I didn’t die. It seems Nigel was trying to kill me.”
“Never trusted him,” Roger said. “Not since Santiago.”
“Maji,” Celeste exclaimed. “Her double,” she explained to Maria. “That was her up there, standing in.”
Erlea nodded. “She and Dave knew about the plan, but they didn’t tell me until a few hours ago. Maji risked her life standing in for me. Just a fractured rib, thank God.”
“I missed all the excitement,” Roger muttered. “And the chief asshat, as Maji calls him?”
Erlea smiled. “Arrested. They have all kinds of evidence that he planned to cash in on my death, like he did with Santiago. No wonder I couldn’t get him to nail down the tour details.” She shook her head. “I’m going to need a new manager.”
“Is that why Claudia Sandoval is here?” Roger asked.
Erlea looked in the direction he pointed and saw Imane deep in conversation with the top woman in music management. “I think I need to go do some business.” She felt Celeste squeeze her hand and let it go.
“I’ll be here,” Celeste assured her. “Go get your new life started. Ask for what you really want. If she’s the right one, she’ll say yes.”
Erlea kissed her on the cheek and whispered, “Are we still talking about cats?”
Celeste just laughed and pushed her toward Imane and Claudia, who smiled at her from across the room.
* * *
Celeste turned down Jordi’s offer of another glass of champagne. “I’m drowsy already, thanks. And I told Erlea I would wait here.”
“We’re turning in, too,” Roger said a few minutes after Jordi and Maria departed for their hotel room. “You all right with the dregs of the after-party?”
The crew, band, and dancers had almost all left, Celeste noted. “Who are all these people?”
“Glitterati and hangers-on,” Roger replied. “And VIP journalists. Erlea won’t want to chat any of them up, and now that Nigel’s gone, she doesn’t have to. Hold on,” he said, pulling his phone out and texting someone. He read the reply silently and looked up grinning. “Imane’ll get you into herself’s room.”
“I feel a conspiracy at work,” Celeste said, knowing she was blushing. But she didn’t argue.
Just as she was drowsing off, the balcony door slid open. “So that’s where you are,” Erlea said. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I have a great contract with my dream manager, but…I’m sorry I missed any time with you.”
“I said I would wait.” Celeste stood up and stretched.
“You could have taken my bed. You do in Barcelona,” Erlea joked.
“Well, you’re not sleeping there. So that’s different.”
Erlea came close and tucked Celeste’s hair behind her ear, giving her a look that made her quiver. “I should hope so.” She stepped away abruptly, looking toward the kitchenette. “Sorry. You probably came to talk. Tea?”
“No,” Celeste said, wanting to reach out and draw Erlea close. “Not what I had in mind. But if you’re worn-out, I can see you in the morning.”
Erlea shook her head. “I want you to stay. But if we’re making a leap together, we have to go to your room. Mine is bugged.” She laughed. “According to my father, who may be paranoid after so many years in hiding. But I really don’t want an audience anymore tonight.”
That made it a little easier to resist touching Erlea. A little. “Oh. But I am on Maji’s boat. And you can’t go out in public, can you?”
Erlea shrugged. “I’d rather not have you splashed all over the tabloids. But I have an idea.” She took a big breath and said loudly, “Tell Maji we took her friend’s moto to the boat.” She grinned at Celeste. “There. I feel like an idiot, but Maji and Dave won’t worry now.”
* * *
Celeste climbed off the back of the bike, unwrapping her arms and legs from around Erlea. No ride alone on the streets of Barcelona had even been such sweet torture. Erlea flipped the helmet’s windscreen up. “It’s so nice out. Could we walk on the beach?” Erlea waited while Celeste took off her helmet, looked around the quiet marina, and peered down the unlit beach. “Unless you don’t want to. If you don’t feel safe, never mind.”
Celeste smiled at her. “No, I was thinking of your privacy. Is there a hat in there at least, to cover your hair?”
Erlea popped the seat open and rummaged through the compartment, pulling out a bag and handing it to Celeste. “Here.” She pulled out the cap underneath. “This will do.”
As Erlea tucked her hair under the casino cap, Celeste opened the bag and grinned. She pulled out two dildos, then dropped them back into the bag.
“Not mine,” Erlea sputtered. “I wouldn’t presume. I didn’t know they were there, really.”
Celeste cut her off with a wave of her hand, laughing. “Not first date material. But I know the moto’s owner. And believe me, she’s going to want these back.”
Erlea offered her arm and they walked down off the pavement onto the cool damp sand. They left the last pool of light and sat shoulder to shoulder on a lounge chair in the dark to take off their shoes. “Will these be safe here?” Erlea asked.
“From the surf, at least. All these chairs and umbrellas get rented out to holidaymakers in the daylight.”
Erlea rolled up her jeans and took Celeste’s hand. “Then we’d better collect them before dawn.” She felt herself blush, grateful for the darkness. “Not that we’re staying out all night, or anything. Can we talk about that?”
“We can talk about anything you like,” Celeste said, leading her by the hand to the edge of the water. “I love the sound and smell of the ocean,” she added as they walked in the cool damp sand, cold water brushing their ankles.
Erlea breathed deeply, taking in the lights twinkling along the crescent edges of Alcúdia bay. With just the moon for light, it felt like they had the whole world to themselves. “So do I. And twice as much with you.” She stroked the back of Celeste’s hand with her thumb.
Celeste shivered.
“Are you cold?” Erlea asked.
“No,” Celeste said, stopping and turning toward her. “It’s your touch. I love your hands. Why aren’t they touching me all over?”
Why wasn’t she? Now she couldn’t think of anything else. But…“I just don’t want to do anything that you don’t want me to. Ever. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Oh, Beatriz,” Celeste sighed, taking Erlea’s face between her hands. “You are so sweet.”
They kissed until standing became a frustration. Celeste led her up to the rows of empty lounge chairs and pushed her back toward one until she sat with a thump, pulling Celeste down on top of her. “I love kissing you,” Erlea told her. “If that’s all you wanted, it would be enough.”
“It’s not nearly all I want,” Celeste said, facing Erlea, feet in the sand on either side of the chair. She leaned in and Erlea felt her undulate against her thigh as they explored each other’s mouths and necks. Erlea slid the side zipper of Celeste’s dress down, slipping a hand inside to caress her torso, fingertips just grazing the curve of one breast. “Is this all right?”
Celeste moaned and kissed her harder, pressing into her thigh with more urgency. Erlea slid her free hand under the hem of the skirt, reveling in the silkiness of Celeste’s thigh.
“Yes,” Celeste sighed. It was the sexiest sound ever. “We need to go back,” Celeste whispered in her ear. “I need you naked and in private.”
Erlea felt herself clench with need. “Anything you want. And nothing you don’t.”
Celeste slid off her, straightening her skirt and zipping back up. She offered Erlea a hand up and didn’t let go when they were both standing again. “I promise to tell you what I do and don’t like. I love that you care.”
Erlea wanted to say I love you. But it was too soon. Instead she said, “I do. Care. But, also, nothing in the world is so sexy as hearing you say yes like you do. It melts me and lights me on fire at the same time.”
“Come on,” Celeste said and took her hand, starting to run down the dark beach.
Erlea pulled her to a halt as they reached the last lounge chairs. “Our shoes.”
“Oh, right.”
Erlea laughed and followed the sway of Celeste’s hips back into the light of the boardwalk. She barely felt the hard pavement under her sandy toes.