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“Where are we going?”
“I told you,” Jaxson grinned as he manoeuvred his Tesla into a new lane. Los Angeles traffic was the worst. When he finally left my house in the wee hours of the morning we’d had a proper laugh. There was really nothing to be said after my mum called. We realized how daft we were behaving, and so very tired, we could only laugh and agree how wonderful it is to be so companionable, surely a little kiss couldn’t come between us. Still, my thoughts kept drifting to the scenes we would film together in the future, and I began to look upon them with wishful expectancy.
He insisted on a proper celebration. One, perhaps with real champagne instead of silly kisses, and told me to prepare for a surprise. The details were incredibly vague.
“You told me we were going to a place you could collect on a debt.” I said. “You don’t have to be so cryptic.”
His beautiful teeth glimmered from the LA streetlights beneath his wide smile. He seemed to be enjoying a devilish satisfaction at my expense.
“You’ll know soon enough.”
“You take great delight in vexing me.”
“The night is young, my dear. Just you wait.”
Several minutes passed much in the same way until we drifted into easy conversation. We laughed a little and spoke of nothing in particular, enjoying a pleasant journey to the mysterious destination. I was in such a state of comfortable fellowship, the night very well could have consisted of merely a car ride and nothing else for all I cared, but then I took notice of our surroundings, and realized where we were going just before we turned into the car park of Karaoke Unplugged.
I scowled at his profile. “Collect a debt?”
He winked at me as he shut down the motor. “Oh yes, my little songbird. You’re not the only one who can put on a show.”
The bar was crowded, as it should be on a Saturday night. I wondered with a sense of relief if perhaps another night would suit better when Jaxson led me to a table in the very middle of the room, and who should be there waiting for us, saving seats, other than Randall and Annie. It was the first time I’d seen them occupy the same space, and just as I predicted, they were adorable together. Adorable couple equals cute babies all named after me.
It had all come full circle. And it was more than appropriate we would end up in the very place I’d hoped the love match would begin. I silently congratulated myself on the successful outcome despite the several mishaps along the way. I observed with some delayed epiphany that it was all part of the job. Without the little moments of toil, the joy would not appear so bright. I need only to let them flourish and grow.
Randall and Annie were more than content to dance all night and not attempt to sing or make a show of it. Jaxson and I heartily approved. We were there for quite some time observing the singers and enjoying the evening, and I was still wondering if I should put my name in the queue when I noticed Jaxson was drinking tea.
“No expensive scotch this time?” I scoffed, taking it as a signal of defeat.
His eyes sparkled with mirth, the creases teasing me from behind his cup as he took a slow, luxuriating swallow. “Oh, I intend to collect on that later. I don’t partake before I sing.”
He stroked a hand over his neck as if warming his vocal cords. He was taking this competition to the next level. Poor fellow.
“May I have your attention?” Sam the piano man took the microphone, something he reserved for special announcements. “At Karaoke Unplugged, we are unique in that we welcome singers from all walks of life. So many wonderful performers have graced this stage, professional and amateur alike. We don’t discriminate. I’m looking at you, Jonny.”
He pointed to a man I recognized from before, clearly a regular. Many of the patrons laughed. Sam rose his voice above the crowd.
“But tonight we welcome an entertainer of a different sort. Many of you may not recognize his face, but you’ve all seen his movies. Ladies and gentlemen, Oscar-winning director of Sublime Truth, Ophelia, and Antigua, the man behind the mask, Mr Jaxson Knightly.”
A thunderous applause erupted as Jaxson rose from the table. He set his teacup down and offered me a sly grin. He was going to be impossible to live with after that introduction. My eyes rolled of their own accord.
As Jaxson took the stage Sam added one more quip before he handed him the microphone. “I sure hope you can sing, man.” And then added, “For all our sakes.” A wave of soft laughter washed over the room as Sam perched himself at the piano. A nod between the two gentlemen and the music began.
Jaxson would not have told me what he planned to sing even if I tried to persuade him with bribery. His flair for the element of surprise was surpassed only by the surprise itself, for I recognized the music from the dissonance of the very first note. The tempo: adagio, the jarring minor chords dark and foreboding, the tone melancholy yet romantic.
A hush fell over the room, not a soul dared to stir, waiting for the magic to descend as Jaxson filled his lungs with the sweet air of the accompaniment, a deep breath to sustain the legato melody he was about to sing. But sing does not begin to describe it, for when the sound resonated from his mouth, it not only filled the room, it sent a tremor down to the bone.
It was one of my favourites; Music of the Night. The first lines rang in the air with an echo, and a white heat flushed through me with a flutter. Slowly, broadly, the music filled me, his voice taking hold of all my faculties. I let go, and it carried me away with the gentle waves of his tenor vibrato. Light as a feather, the soft cadence touched effortlessly on the wings of an angel and drifted on the expectant ears of all who were blessed to hear it. But I was alone, every patron fell away and ceased to exist in the euphoria of the Phantom’s song. I understood at that moment what hypnotic yearning must have taken hold of Christine Daaé deep in the underground lake beneath the Opera House; the sweet caress of the music enfolding the senses and transporting the spirit.
A steady swell in tempo, andante and sensual, rose with the timbre of his clear soaring voice, stirring in concert with the power brewing beneath the surface of the notes, flooding my body with extraordinary sensations. Urgent and compelling pulses accelerated with the tempo, gathering a throbbing momentum and his sublime voice rode each thrusting note in a transport of seduction. Then one single note rose above them all, sustained in the thick air, floating like a seabird in the breeze and took my own breath with it, for it was so very beautiful. He let it float gently in a prolonged interval and let it drift off, yielding to a soft whispering plea.
And then he turned his eyes to me, burning them into my soul with each word, setting my blood on fire. I felt my heartbeat escalate, driven by an electricity coursing through my veins. A swelling heaviness surrounded me, consuming me in the soaring cadence of the music, reaching out, holding me in its spell.
Then elegantly, purposefully, he descended the stage, gliding each step in measured emphasis making steady, gradual progress in my direction by degrees. His eyes held me captive as the song progressed like a beast of prey, slowly approaching, reaching out, and upon the point of standing before me, rang out in the most powerful crescendo.
I was free-falling, transported in flight. I thought for a moment I might swoon, but then he took my hand in his and guided me from my seat. He stepped back in a sweeping motion much in the same way he crossed the floor to collect me, only with backward strides, drawing me towards the stage.
His lyrics did not falter as we ascended the stair and he continued his backward strides until he had me in place in the centre. Only then did he release my hand. Artfully, deftly, he poised himself behind me — the enchantment of his voice enclosing my aura. A caress of his skin governed the council of my arm to extend up to touch his face, swayed by the intoxication of the melody. I was clay, pliant on the potter’s wheel, completely at his mercy.
He could have had anything he desired at that moment. Emperor of all the realms? Done. My hidden stash of Cheez-Its? His for the taking. Twenty-five-year single malt scotch? Give this man the whole bottle. I was willing to pay handsomely. He was earning it and then some.
The final phrase approached, and the sweet imploring poetry of the music came to claim the wages of its devout consummation. The timbre of his final note tapered off in soft waves disappearing into the shadows of awesome silence. Several moments passed in charged stillness. It was as if the whole audience forgot to breathe and were waiting to recover consciousness before putting their hands together. But the applause, when it did come, detonated with a gushing thunderclap and cries of praise.
Jaxson graciously bowed as a true performer, giving credit with a flourish to Sam and me, his leading lady—although I didn’t do anything except drool on my chin. Look out Broadway, here I come.
The mobile phones were out clicking away as they had done on the night I made a fool of myself, except this time there would be no degrading memes or mortifying gifs. A snifter of scotch was brought to the table as swiftly as we took our seats. The same cocktail waitress from our previous visit set it down in front of Jaxson with an over-eager smile. He thanked her by name again as he had done before. “Thank you as always, Harriet.” A blush of pink overcame her face and she ducked away to her other duties.
“I wonder if she has a boyfriend.” I thought to myself. I didn’t realize I said that thought aloud until Jaxson scowled at me over his glass of amber liquid. He took a long sip, enjoying the buzz as the scotch warmed his throat. He placed an arm over the back of my chair and leaned in very, very close to my face. His nose was almost touching mine, and I noted with some delight how the aroma of the scotch mingled deliciously with the scent of his own skin.
He held one finger in the small space between our faces and spoke with a saucy air of mock censure.
“Don’t even think about it, Emma,” he said. “No more matchmaking.”