Alicia bowed as applause rang out through the club. Standing and tossing her hair out of her eyes, she said, “Thank you. Pat and I really appreciate you being here on a school night.” She tilted her head as a low chuckle ran through the room and continued. “This is going to be our last song for this evening. We’re here every Sunday, though, so if you like what you hear, please come back and bring your friends.”
Looking at her tuxedoed accompanist, Alicia nodded. Pat’s fingers ran briskly over the keyboard with the first few chords of The Girl from Ipanema. It was a bit of a trick, using this as her closer. This song got people jazzed, making them want more. Well, she was ready for that too.
Alicia’s eyes scanned the crowd as she sang. The lights illuminating the tiny stage had finally dimmed a bit, so she could see past the first few tables into the club. A waitress stopping at one table caught her eye as Alicia deepened her breath, getting ready for the run at the end of the chorus.
Her voice almost broke on the next part about giving her heart gladly. That guy. The lobbyist from last weekend’s donor party. He was sitting at a table toward the back of the club, his large, dark eyes fixed on her, a handsome Black man next to him.
Fuck. She strove for the sorrow she usually invested in the next lyrics about looking straight ahead and walking to the sea, but they came out almost defiantly instead.
Alicia finished out the song with its repetitions of, “And she doesn’t see…” determinedly looking at anyone but That Guy. The applause that met the end of this song was the loudest of the night, and Alicia bowed deeply, standing with a flourish and throwing out her hand to include Pat in the accolades. The applause only intensified, whistles and some stomping punctuating the pounding of hands. Half the room was standing.
Bringing the microphone back to her mouth, Alicia waved a hand. “Okay. Just one more,” she said, as if making a concession. She glanced at Pat, who nodded at her and started playing, one corner of her mouth quirking up. Pat hadn’t been convinced that this was the right end to the set, unconvinced that it would trigger an encore, but she had lost the ten dollars she bet Alicia that it wouldn’t work.
Pat hit the opening chords to The Party’s Over. This song was perfectly suited to the comfortable part of Alicia’s dark, alto voice. She snuck another look at the table with That Guy.
“Okay.” Russell’s breath tickled Colin’s ear, and he reared his head away from his friend. “I thought you said this woman was ‘attractive.’”
“What, you don’t think so?” Colin said, surprised, his eyes darting back to the stage. Alicia’s clinging black top glittered in the stage lights and her face was alight as she sang. The sight made Colin’s breath snag in his throat.
“Col, she’s a fucking knockout. You have a talent for understatement.”
“It’s a British thing,” Colin said. “Perhaps I should have said that she’s rather beautiful.”
“Hush, let the rather beautiful lady sing.” Russell admonished him with a wink.
Colin let his eyes settle on Alicia’s slim form again. She had spent much of the set making eye contact with various members of the audience, mostly up front. He assumed that was as far as she could see with the stage lights in her eyes. When the lights had dimmed for the last number, he thought she might have seen him, but he couldn’t be sure. Her voice was surprisingly deep and smoky as it wended its way through the last of the melancholy lyrics, rising to an unexpected high note at the conclusion of the song.
A hushed pause hung in the air as the last notes from the piano faded away and Alicia stood with the microphone still poised at her lips, eyes fixed over the heads of the audience as if she could see something far in the distance. Then the room erupted and she bowed again, settling the microphone with finality into its stand with a wave and walking over to say something to the accompanist, silky black trousers swirling around her legs as she moved.
The crowd milled, some moving toward the exits, others settling back into their seats for one more drink. “So, you brave enough to try again with this woman?” Russell said, leaning back in his chair.
“What do you mean, ‘brave’?” Colin asked, annoyed.
Russell waved a hand at the stage where Alicia was laughing at something. Her accompanist was grinning wryly and gathering sheet music together. “She’s beautiful, she’s talented…”
“What’s your point?”
Russell continued as if he hadn’t heard Colin speak. “…She’s poised, she’s funny. I’m just saying she’s clearly out of your league. Maybe you should be my wingman.”
“Says the man who can only do eight reps at my top weight on the bench press.” Colin’s teeth gritted together as he glared at his friend.
“Bench press isn’t everything, my friend. There’s also charm. Real charm. Not just leaning on an accent. Something you could stand to learn a thing or two about.” Russell picked up his glass and swirled the remaining bourbon in it, ice clinking.
The sultry voice that had fixed his attention all evening was suddenly in his ear. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. ‘Are Actresses Ever Honest?’”
That Guy’s head whipped around, and his lips tightened in annoyance. “Usually I prefer ‘Colin,’ but I will defer to the lady’s choice.”
Alicia’s heart beat a rapid tattoo as she watched him rise from his seat. She affected a casual attitude, wondering why she had decided to confront him. Her usual style was to run, to disappear.
But something about this guy made her want to stand her ground.
Another voice cut in. “Sounds like you were a really smooth operator, Col. Good work.”
Alicia had noticed before That Guy…Colin, she reluctantly told herself, was sitting with someone, but she hadn’t focused on him. Now she turned with a wary smile to see the other man getting to his feet, and registered a broad grin creating a deep dimple in one cheek.
“Russell King,” the other man said, extending a hand.
Alicia shook it with a smile. “Alicia Johnson.”
“I know. That was a great performance. You have some pipes.”
“Thank you.” Alicia said. Normally the compliment, the handsome face, and the easy charm would have warmed her more, but she was cautious. This guy was with That Guy. Colin.
“Well, I’m going to get one more drink. Can I get anything for either of you?” Russell cocked a thumb over his shoulder at the bar.
“Whiskey.” Colin didn’t even look at his friend, and Alicia found herself giving an example of almost exaggerated politeness in contrast.
“Gin and tonic, thank you so much. Please let Leo know that it’s for me. He won’t charge you,” she said with a grateful smile.
Russell looked from Alicia’s smile to Colin, who now appeared annoyed. Good. She wanted him to be annoyed. “Right. I’ll just get those drinks, then…”
Alicia realized her mistake as Russell moved away. She was now not only committed to stay for the duration of a drink, but she was also alone with Colin. Again.
Time to brave it out.
“Well,” she said, affecting a brightness she didn’t feel. “What brings you all the way to this neck of the woods?”
“It’s Logan Circle, not Mars.” Yes, Colin was still peevish. Again, good. For some reason, she liked getting a rise out of him. Maybe it was because he had antagonized her from the start. Or maybe it was because he seemed like the kind of guy who was always in control. The stereotype of a British stiff, in dire need of shaking up.
Alicia lifted an eyebrow. “Well. I may be new in town, but you are a lobbyist and I did meet you on Capitol Hill. I just thought you might have a natural habitat you didn’t stray out of.”
The muscles at Colin’s temples bulged as he gritted his teeth, and Alicia repressed a gleeful smile. This guy was too easy to needle. Appearing to rein in his temper, he flashed a tight imitation of a polite smile. “You did mention you sang here on Sundays, so I thought I would drop by. See the talents you boasted of that were not on display the other night.”
Shit. She had mentioned that, hadn’t she? Well, he didn’t have to be snotty about it. She hadn’t boasted.
“It’s so nice of you to remember,” she said.
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond to the bait this time. “Not at all,” he said. “I do love music.”
“Really?” She looked him up and down. Instead of a suit, he was wearing a crisp white cotton button-down shirt, his cuffs rolled back to expose defined, muscular forearms. His shoulders were broad and solid too, she realized with chagrin. Suit jackets like the one he’d worn a week ago could give any man a nice set of shoulders, but his were the real deal.
That wouldn’t do at all.
“I guess I had you pegged as a symphony-only kind of guy,” she said.
What exactly is this woman’s problem? Colin thought with exasperation. She spoke as if he was some sort of poncy twit. He wasn’t like those stuffy, boring guys from upper-crust families he had gone to Oxford with.
Was he?
Russell returned at that moment, carefully carrying three drinks, the third glass wedged between the other two. Carefully setting the assemblage on the table, he handed Alicia hers with a smile and a wink.
“Ladies first.”
Annoyance rose up in Colin again. Was Russell really trying to edge him out? Glancing at his friend, he realized Russ was messing with him. A self-satisfied smile had spread across the other man’s face. Gotcha, it seemed to say.
Settling his tense shoulders, Colin received his whiskey from Russell with a half-bow. “Thank you,” he said. “Very kind of you.”
Russell rolled his eyes and turned back to Alicia. “So, where did you learn to sing like that? You from a musical family?”
Alicia seemed caught off guard by the question, though it seemed normal enough to Colin. “Um. No. I guess I always did sing. And then when I started to get small roles in musicals, I would pick up what I could from the leads, the musical directors, whatever I could get. I’m pretty self-taught in general.”
“Well, you’re a good student, I can tell.”
Alicia laughed at this, a blush reddening her cheeks. “You can, huh?”
“Trust me, I’m a professional.”
“Oh really?” Alicia appeared skeptical, but amused. Colin couldn’t figure a way into the conversation, but much as he hated to be a spectator, he also thought he might learn something from the interchange. He sipped his drink and settled in to watch.
“Yeah. That’s how I met this guy.” Russell bumped Colin with his elbow.
“You were his…teacher?” Alicia looked from one man to the other, eyebrows lifted questioningly.
“Classmate, actually. I was getting an advanced tax degree when Colin was getting his U.S. legal degree. Somehow, we became friends. I teach there now. That’s how I know you’re a good student. Anyone who can teach herself a thing so well is bound to be.”
“You teach ‘there’ now? Where is there?”
“Georgetown Law.”
“Ah.” Alicia seemed to retreat in on herself and she scanned the now near-empty club with thoughtful eyes.
“It’s not that bad,” Russell said.
Alicia laughed, a sharp, brittle sound. “No, I was just wondering what a girl with a high-school equivalency is doing talking to two guys who have really fancy degrees, that’s all.”
Russell rolled his eyes again. “It’s not as fancy as all that.”
A tight smile passed over her face. “We’ll just have to agree to disagree on that one.”
“Do you really have no college degree?” Colin asked.
Alicia tensed. She didn’t usually open up about her education—or lack thereof—at all. It was too much of a window on her past, her family, all the things she normally didn’t talk about to anyone. But she had gone and given the show away. Again. He was here because she had mentioned she performed here, and on what night she did it. What was it about him that caused her to blurt out any old thing?
Well, nothing to do but brazen it out. If she couldn’t run, she fell back on bravado.
“Yes. I didn’t finish at eighteen, but I got my GED.” Eventually.
“That’s very impressive,” he said.
Don’t patronize me, asshole. A bolt of energetic fury shot through her, but she maintained her cool veneer as best she could. “Oh, yes. Very impressive to someone with a fancy Georgetown degree.”
He looked puzzled. “You seem to mistake a degree for something it’s not. I merely meant that most people find Shakespeare difficult. You not only understand it, you play it. And with, I assume, very little of the formal training that everyone else seems to find so necessary. So, yes. I do find that impressive.”
Cut off at the knees, Alicia floundered. She had been prepared for condescension. She hadn’t expected a compliment. She glanced at Russell to see if he could give her a clue to the real situation. Was she being mocked and she was just too stupid to know it? No. His eyes were sincere and he nodded in agreement with his friend.
“I agree. Impressive,” Russell said, cocking a thumb at Colin. “This guy is always trying to get me to go with him to the Folger for productions, and I always find something else to do. I just don’t get it.”
“You haven’t tried it.” Colin’s response was almost a growl. This was obviously an old argument between the two.
“Wait, you have all this education, and you haven’t tried Shakespeare?” Alicia asked.
Russell shrugged. “I mean, I did what I had to do in high school. I read Hamlet. I didn’t get it, but I read it.”
“Such a well-rounded man, you are, Russ. A cultural paragon,” Colin said.
“Oh, for shame, Russell,” Alicia said, her equilibrium returning. “You really should try at least one show.”
“I’m getting ganged up on now, aren’t I?” Russell grumbled. “I liked it better when you two were annoyed with each other.”
Alicia darted a surprised look at Colin, realizing that they were allies. At least for the moment. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but she pushed that aside. She had been off-balance enough for one evening. It was time to reclaim her usual control.
“Well,” she said to Russell. “I only have a small part, but you’ve met me now and you’re just going to have to come see the play before it closes. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised as to how much you enjoy it.”
Russell looked wide-eyed from Alicia to Colin and back again.
“Don’t worry,” Colin said. “I’ll go with you to translate if you need it. And I’ll buy you the Cliff’s Notes.”