Page 57 of The Tenor's Shadow

He took a deep breath, grounding himself, and sang.

“Piano, pianissimo, senza parlar, tutti con me venite qua.”

He tried not to look out at his mate, but he couldn’t help himself. At the sound of his voice, Freddie’s eyes sprang to life with adoration. Happy tingles spread through Anthony’s stomach. With some effort, he wrenched his gaze away from Freddie’s perfect face. He had an opera to sing!

The performance flew by in a whirlwind of music and applause. Despite his assholery, the Maestro was an excellent conductor, and Anthony felt the company and the orchestra fall into sync, breathing as one and spinning out gorgeous sound. The ovation at the curtain call lasted for ten minutes, and Freddie was the first to his feet.

After changing clothes and squeezing in a quick makeout session in his dressing room, Anthony walked into the opening night party with Freddie on his arm. Everyone’s eyes went to them.

“They’re all looking,” Freddie whispered in Anthony’s ear. “You’re a big star. You shouldn’t be with a bodyguard. You should date someone impressive.”

Anthony turned to his vampire, seeing an uncharacteristic self-consciousness on Freddie’s face. He kissed him on the cheek.

“They’re staring because we’re sexy as hell,” Anthony whispered. “And you’re not a bodyguard. You’re the head of security for Hughes International. You are impressive.”

Freddie didn’t seem convinced. Anthony squeezed his arm and led him into the fray. Several of the elderly donors rushed over to Anthony, gushing over his performance. Most of them gave Freddie a once over and ignored him, but Anthony made a point to introduce him to everyone. Freddie looked uncomfortable, but Anthony understood that this was a bandage they had to rip off. Dating Anthony meant having to play trophy husband on occasion.

Of course, Anthony knew Freddie wasn’t the sparkling conversation type, but that was okay. Anthony could do that. He appreciated Freddie’s broody silence. He didn’t need to say more, he just needed to find his confidence.

After a few exchanges, Freddie settled in. Once he understood all he had to do was play the heavy, he took to it eagerly. After a few minutes of boring small talk with some elderly millionaire, Freddie would glare, and then the person would make an excuse and leave. It was an excellent system.

An older woman in a black Chanel suit approached them, speaking in accented but grammatically perfect English. Gold rings covered her fingers, and her silver hair was perfectly coiffed.

“Antonio, what a triumph!” She spoke a little too loud, as if she were performing for the whole room. “You and Adrijana were brilliant. I suppose it was nice to have a hometown Figaro as well. I pray we can lure you back here next season.”

“Thank you for that, Señora…”

“Martí. Nuria Martí. I’m the president of the board for Opera La Rambla. And the company’s largest donor.” The woman winked at Anthony. There was something predatory about it that made Anthony uneasy.

“I’m also a high-ranking senator in the Cortes Generales,” she continued. “My connections in the government enable much of what happens here at the opera.”

“That’s incredible.” Anthony glanced at Freddie, whose face was inscrutable. “This is my partner, Frederick. He works in security.”

“Ah, yes, the bodyguard I’ve heard about.” Señora Martí leaned in, talking in a stage whisper. “You should find someone more suitable for your career, querida.”

Anthony blinked in confusion. One thing he’d learned from working in different countries was that sometimes folks were more direct than appropriate when speaking a language other than their own. He hoped she was just being accidentally tactless.

“I—”

“It’s no fun, but relationships aren’t just about romance. Who you date is a business decision, sweetheart.”

“Listen, Señora Martí.” Freddie’s voice was a rough growl. “Anthony—”

“You are very tall, which is nice. But Anthony is smarter and savvier than you. He has a bright future ahead, and you will only hold him back.” The older woman plastered on a disingenuous smile. “Take it from someone who can make or break his career.”

Freddie didn’t reply, clearly flummoxed. Anthony was confused. Why was she threatening him? Was it that important for her to throw around her influence? Why would she care who he dated?

An aggressive female voice speaking rapidly in Spanish broke the tense silence. It was Gabriela, and from all appearances, she was ripping Nuria Martí a new asshole. She stood in a stunning black gown, bedecked in sequins, with her hands on her hips. Señora Martí had a dazed look on her face at the unexpected assault.

When Gabriela stopped speaking, Señora Martí’s eyes were searching for the exit. With a sharp movement of her head, Gabriela indicated that the older woman should speak to Anthony and Freddie.

The board president took a deep breath. “My apologies. Gabriela has informed me I have spoken out of turn. I did not intend to offend.”

“Uh, it’s okay—”

Gabriela cut Anthony off. “I’m sure Señora Martí has many duties to attend to right now, considering the importance of her position.”

The older woman nodded and rushed away, making a beeline for the powder room.

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