Page 51 of The Duet

“Oh, yes,” Lana says. “I would ask you to give it up for Isabel Adler, but what do you think, Izzy? Was that enough for you?”

“Hell no,” Isabel says. “I can never get enough. That’s why I came back. Isn’t that why you came back, Lana?”

They’re making a skit out of it, entertaining the crowd even more with their banter—something Lana never did when it was me up there. This must be exceptional for her.

Lana blows kisses to the audience. Tonight really is something else. I get the feeling that the best is yet to come—packed into a five-minute, spine-chilling duet between two music legends. The perfect ending to a night like this. I might be prone to a few bouts of jealousy in this moment, but we had an amazing time earlier, playing to this New York crowd. We turned a few heads and perked up a few ears. Now it’s Lana and Izzy’s turn to bring it all the way home.

It’s just the two of them without backing. Lana nods once and the crowd is eating out of her hand to such an extent that they go quiet instantly, giving her the silence this song needs.

Lana starts and it’s the first time I’m watching her perform this without the energy of being up there with her coursing through me. Now, I’m just a spectator, and, instantly, it grabs me by the throat. It undoes something inside me to watch her, and listen to her, in this particular solemn atmosphere. To witness how she quietens, how that frenetic energy she used to bounce around the stage earlier has stilled into this beautiful, peaceful, heartbreaking moment.

It’s like we’re all holding our breath collectively, waiting—waiting for Isabel Adler to join Lana.

When she does, at first just singing along almost inaudibly with Lana in the first chorus, something changes in the air. It’s pure admiration. Every single person in this venue is caught up in this extraordinary moment in musical history. Lana and Isabel have never sung this duet live before in front of an audience.

Isabel launches into the second verse solo, although launch is perhaps not the correct word for it. She approaches it cautiously yet with determination. The words rolling off her tongue are intense and full of melody. She’s looking at Lana and Lana’s looking back at her. They’re staring into each other’s eyes the way Lana and I used to do. They’re selling the illusion. God help me for what they might do next.

I can’t help but stare at Lana. To really see her in this moment, how she enjoys it, loses herself in it. What she does with her hands, how she tilts her head, how she shuffles her feet. All things I never noticed when I was singing with her because I was so lost in our performance, in how she was singing to me and I was singing to her.

Their rendition might also be a cappella but the energy of it is completely different than how Lana and I bring it. Isabel’s voice is so fragile, it sounds like it might break any second. And then, as she and Lana alternate lines in the third chorus, her voice does break a little, and it’s one of the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard in my life. The croak in her voice matches the lyrics so perfectly, it enhances the song in a way that I could never accomplish. It connects with something deep inside me and, fuck it, I don’t hold back my tears. I let them stream freely down my cheeks.

My tears come even quicker when Lana moves closer to Isabel to share the mic with her for the final chorus, to close out the night, and it reminds me of that day, which seems to have happened lifetimes ago, when I went to Lana’s house for rehearsal and suggested we only use one mic for the final chorus. But this is no time to be jealous any longer. It’s impossible to be jealous of this, of the beauty their voices create together.

Their chemistry on stage is of a different nature than the one between Lana and me. It’s respectful and gorgeous but also a lot less sensual. There’s no touching of the cheeks, or grabbing each other’s waist, let alone letting their head fall onto each other’s shoulder. The vibe they create is much more ethereal than sultry.

In all its stillness, it’s equally, if not even more so, effective and visceral than the version I created with Lana.

I follow them with my gaze as they walk off hand-in-hand, tears still running down my cheeks, because if I’ve learned one thing by watching this duet, it’s that my poor heart never stood a chance. I fell hard for Lana the instant I walked on that stage with her.

An arm curls around me. “Damn,” Jess says. “I’m not sure I have any words to describe what I just saw.” She hands me a tissue. “It’s okay, Cleo. I feel it too.”

Chapter 29

Lana

Izzy and Leila have been gracious enough to throw a welcome-to-New-York party at their house for everyone on the tour. I’m glad I have a place to go to other than my hotel room, because I’m so amped up from our show, I’m not sure where I might have ended up. It’s been one of those rare nights when every little thing comes together to create an extraordinary experience. Three decades in music have taught me that nights like this need to be savored because they don’t come along very often. So that’s what I intend to do.

It’s not like Cleo will be warming my bed tonight, although, I get the impression some of Izzy and Leila’s party guests wouldn’t mind taking Cleo’s place. And you know what? I might let one of them do just that. Because Izzy and I killed that duet. As long as we’re in New York, Cleo’s vocal services are not required. As far as I’m concerned, Cleo is not required in my life at all. But she and her band and entourage are at the party. This is the kind of event no one wants to miss.

I flit from one person to the next, accepting many drinks as well as kudos for the show. Over the years, I’ve learned to accept both with ease and grace.

An hour or so into the party, I finally sink into a couch next to Leila. We chitchat for a bit, until she locks her black gaze on me and says, “Can I tell you something in the absolute strictest confidence?”

“Absolutely.” I’m quite tipsy, but I’m pretty sure I can keep Leila’s secret.

“As breathtaking as you and Izzy singing “I should Have Kissed You” was tonight, it wasn’t the same as when you sing it with Cleo.”

“It can’t be the same, can it? Izzy and Cleo are very different singers.” That’s what she wanted to confide in me? It sounds more like simply stating a fact than sharing a secret.

“Sure, but what I mean is…” Leila slants her body toward mine. “I’ve seen the videos of you and Cleo and, well, all I can say is that they’re damn hot and I’m, quite frankly, glad it wasn’t like that with you and Izzy. I’d be worried if it was.” She flashes me a red-lipped smile.

“Oh yeah. Cleo and I, we sure could turn it on.” I take another sip of wine. “She’s very good at what she does.”

“She is, but that’s also not really what I mean.” Leila’s still sitting very close to me, mostly whispering in my ear. “Sorry if I’m being too forward, but are you and Cleo… a thing?”

“Definitely not.” I scoff. “For some reason I fail to fully grasp, we’re not allowed to be.”

“Ah, so there is something there. I told Izzy. She said that sometimes that’s how it is when two people sing together, but you and Izzy are two seriously hot foxes, and it wasn’t like that earlier. You have a different kind of chemistry. Something much more… chaste, I guess.” Leila nods as though she has suddenly understood one of the deepest truths of the universe. “You and Cleo, you want each other and you can’t possibly hide it—and why would you? That’s what I saw. I’m sure I’m not the only one. It’s plain as day.”

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