Page 46 of Erik

He ducks to stick his head back inside. “You can do this, hon.”

Clutching his hand, I step on the red carpet. Camera flashes blind me. I wrap my fingers around his forearm as we move along the path.

“Guess we don’t get featured in gossip columns often enough,” Hadley snickers as he points at the people standing along the sidewalk and losing interest when they don’t recognize either of us.

The crowd as well as reporters erupt in cheers and applause, so I glance behind to find out why. My feet stumble, my legs wobble, and my heart stagger. I sink my nails into Hadley’s sleeve, about to hyperventilate. Despite a large-brimmed hat and a white mask covering half of his face, my bones recognize Erik as he steps out of a sleek town car.

Glad he hasn’t seen us, I urge Hadley, “Let’s go.”

He drapes an arm around my waist, pulling me against his side. “I’ve got you.”

While every fiber of my being fights to convince me to turn around, so I can gawk at the front man of Muse of Darkness, I will myself to focus on the couple ahead of us. But the line of guests inches toward the entrance, giving my imagination ample time to stray. Erik’s image remains seared in my memory. And he’s rocking that freaking long tail tuxedo and flowing black cape.

People shouting draw my attention. I sneak a peek over Hadley’s shoulder. Erik and Carlotta have stopped for interviews with TV channel hosts lining the carpeted pathway. I prick my ears to hear what bystanders are yelling about. Gasping, I snap my head to look ahead again. I don’t want to learn about their wedding plans.

Once we cross the threshold, a young woman takes Hadley and I through a couple of doors to the ballroom and guides us to our table. I send a little gratitude prayer to the universe because the table designated for the board of directors is different than the one occupied by the band’s entourage. They set ours on the left side of the stage while the band sits on the right.

Hadley dips his head to whisper in my ear. “Great view from here to observe rock and roll stars in their natural habitat.”

“I get my wildlife fix from National Geographic, thank you very much.”

He kisses the tip of his index finger and presses it on my shoulders, hissing. “Burn, baby, burn.”

I chuckle, then grimace when my eyes capture Erik and Carlotta taking their seats. He pulls a chair for her, takes off the hat and cape, and settles them on the chair beside her. He remains on his feet, talking to the band manager. Even with the white mask covering half his face, I’d describe his expression as gloomy. Maybe Hadley is right, and something is off about Erik’s engagement.

The master of ceremonies, a popular late night show host, walks on stage. “Welcome beautiful guests. Thank you for coming tonight. We’ve got a great evening planned for you. So, we want everyone to kick back, relax, and empty your bank accounts.” He waits for the laughter to die down before adding, “That’s much easier done when you’re having fun, am I right?”

The hair on my nape stands on end when I catch a flash of white out of the corner of my eye. Erik’s turned his head toward our table, the bright spotlights in the room glint off his mask. He takes a few steps in our direction, my heart beats in my throat.

Unfolding from the chair, I squeeze Hadley’s arm. “Be right back,” I grunt over my shoulder as I sprint to the restroom.

“Let’s kick the night off in style. Put your hands together for the boys in the band - Erik, Wes, Logan, and Nick. Come up here.”

I sigh in relief when the guests clap.

“Christine, wait up,” Erik calls.

I glance behind. My knees turn jelly, so I grab the back of a nearby chair. Nick emerges between us, gripping Erik’s upper arms.

When I reach the restroom, I collapse on a brocade settee propped against a wall facing the entrance. Heaving, I scan the door for locks to find none. Leaning, I sink my elbows into my knees and hang my head down. I don’t believe a little pink sign on the other side of the door will stop Erik from barging into the ladies’ room.

The emcee takes to the mic again. “Logan and Wes, thanks. It seems Nick and Erik got caught up at the back of the room. Oh, I see what’s going on. Hey, sorry, guys. We’re on a tight schedule. Restroom break will come in about fifteen minutes.” People whistle and catcall. “There you go! Also joining us are the stars of the biopic, Pat and Ally.”

People clap and the emcee chats with everyone on stage, including Erik. I slump against the damask satin covering the back of the small couch. I resort to my yoga training to find balance, calm my erratic heartbeats, and steady my quivering knees. Still not ready to return to my table, I shut my eyes, and allow the voice of the master of ceremonies to lull me as he announces the first event of the night, a charity auction for a date with a celebrity.

I drift off for a beat, or ten. A commotion outside prompts me to sit up straight. Dazed, it takes me a moment to recognize Logan’s voice over the loudspeakers.

“No. No. You don’t know what it’s like, man”.

I can’t make out the rest because of his slurred speech and the high-pitched feedback.

I spring up, stepping toward the exit, to return to my table before Hadley begins to worry about me. The door swings open, and someone bumps into me, knocking me off. Grabbing the edge of the sink, I manage not to fall flat on my butt.

“Hey,” I growl, but swallow the angry words at the sight of a distraught Allyson. I fold an arm around her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

She wipes the heels of her hands on her cheeks, under the round pink glasses of her Janis Joplin costume. They now sit askew on the bridge of her nose. “I don't want to talk about it,” she whispers. “I don’t understand why he’s got to humiliate me like that.”

I guide her to the settee, where we plop ourselves. I confess, “I’m the last person you’d want giving you advice on how to handle one of the guys in Muse of Darkness.” I stroke her back, “But, I do relate to the pain they cause.”

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