Page 17 of The Duet

“It clearly contributes to making you very good at what you do.”

I shrug. “Maybe, but that almost makes what I do sound too rehearsed. How I am on stage is not rehearsed. It’s much more…” I put my hand on my belly. “Primal. Instinctive.”

“I can tell. It’s in you.” Lana nods. “You’re one hell of a performer as well as a singer. I wouldn’t invite you to share the stage with me if you weren’t.”

“Thank you.” A flush creeps up my cheeks. This isn’t just anyone paying me this compliment. It means everything coming from Lana.

“Ah, that’s just adorable.”

Adorable is not how I want to come across to Lana, but some things can’t be helped. Ostentatiously, I look at my watch. “I’d best get to bed. Early day tomorrow.”

“Good heavens, yes.” Lana longingly gazes at her bed. Does she sometimes share it with someone? I’ve been witnessing firsthand how people go nuts for her, how long the meet and greet queue is after the show, and how people are still shouting Lana’s name when the car picks us up from the venue. How does it feel to be adored like that? “Since Elisa Fox came backstage, I’ve been on an Underground binge,” Lana says. “If I keep that up, I’ll never get through the stack of books I brought with me, but oh well…” She looks at me as though she has just let me in on a dirty little secret.

“I’ve never seen Underground.”

“What? How is that possible?” Lana’s voice has jumped into a register that sounds unnaturally high for her.

“I haven’t spent a lot of time at home the past ten years, let alone in front of a TV.”

“But it’s all streaming on tablets these days and this is such a queer show. Perfect for watching with your band while on the road.”

“I guess it’s just one of those things that have passed us by. There’s so much to watch and I prefer reading before bed. It’s much more calming, especially after a high-energy show.”

Lana nods. “I’m with you on that. It’s just that the pull of Elisa has been quite impossible to resist…”

“She is very hot.”

“And very straight.” Lana pushes herself up and takes a few steps toward her nightstand. “But her show’s anything but. I’m telling you, Cleo, watch it. Something tells me you will enjoy it very much.” She picks up one of the books next to her bed. “What’s also very much not straight is this.” She shows me the cover. I don’t recognize the title, nor the author’s name, Jane Quinn. “Sapphic romance at its very best.” She hands me the book. “Not everyone’s cup of tea, but I really got into it after Joan died. It’s very comforting to know that the ending will always be happy and no one’s going to die.”

I turn the book over in my hands and read the title: Under a Streetlight. “I’m more of a mystery fan myself.”

“Feel free to try it. I finished it the other day and there’s plenty more where that came from.”

“Is this your way of telling me I should engage in more wholesome activities than getting wasted with my bandmates?” I tap the spine of the book against my palm.

“God, no. Please don’t even think that for a second. I’ve been where you are and when I was your age, I listened to no one. This is the time when you do your thing. When you act first and think of the consequences later. The only thing I want you to do is enjoy yourself. Really.”

I can only listen to Lana’s advice. I’ll start by giving this book a try.

There’s a knock at the door. “Lana, it’s Billie.”

“I’d better go.”

“Coming,” Lana says. “Good night, Cleo.” She brings her hand to my shoulder and gives it a pat. “Can’t wait for our next duet.”

Chapter 13

Lana

“That kid is hella cute,” Billie says once I’ve closed the door behind her.

“Hands off the support act.” I usher her to the chair where Cleo was just sitting.

“Since when?” She brings her hands to her hips.

“I’m just kidding.” I don’t even know why I said that.

“Or are you and little Miss Cleo…” Billie arches up her eyebrows. “The way you two go about it on stage, you might as well be.”

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