Page 53 of The Duet

“You know what?” Quick as lightning, Leila pushes herself out of the couch and practically shoves Cleo into her seat. “I’m going to let you two have a much-needed talk.” Without looking back, she walks off, leaving me perplexed.

“It’s okay, Cleo. We don’t have to talk. Just go.”

“Lana, I—” She settles into the couch, keeping a respectable distance. “Um, first of all, fucking great duet.” Cleo takes a deep breath, then nods. “Amazing show in general. You were really on it tonight.” She does look me in the eye now. “What’s this all about?”

“Leila was just sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Sorry. She’s not very good at taking no for an answer.”

“What did she say?”

I pivot so I fully face Cleo. “She insisted I try to get you to sing the duet with me again. She’s seen the footage on the internet and that’s her conclusion.”

“Leila said that?” Cleo draws up her knee so she can face me better.

“She said that after she saw me sing the duet with Izzy.” I want Cleo back on stage with me. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just a song.

“Wow.” Cleo narrows her eyes. “She hasn’t even seen us live.”

“Will you think about it, please?” I almost reach for her hand.

“I will. I promise.” Cleo’s voice softens. So does her gaze on me.

“How are you? With the whole… thing?” I might have missed hanging out with her a little.

“I’m fine. As fine as a person who rejected Lana Lynch can be, I guess.”

“This tour is far from over.” I shuffle my knee a little closer to hers, but that’s all I can do as far as bridging the distance between us goes. “Let’s not be strangers, okay?” I peer into Cleo’s bright blue eyes.

Cleo nods. Her gaze lingers.

“As foolish as it may be to be jealous of someone like Isabel Adler,” Cleo says, “I was. I am. I know it’s your song, yet… that song has come to mean so much to me. It’s in me, you know. It’s part of me. As beautiful as it was, it killed me to see you sing it with her instead of me.”

Damn. I wasn’t expecting that. Young people like Cleo don’t have their guard up like we used to. Vulnerability is part of their brand—I think the record company’s marketing people call it authenticity.

“There’s a simple solution to how you feel.” I make sure to not sound even remotely condescending. “You’re always welcome on stage with me. Always.”

“Thank you. That’s very gracious of you after all I’ve said and, um, done.”

“You’re very welcome.” I send her a smile. I’d love to keep talking to Cleo, but a buzz is traveling through the room. My first instinct is that it’s about Cleo and me huddled together in this couch, until I make out whispers of Izzy’s name.

Someone from The Other Women’s crew walks up to us. “Izzy’s going to sing. Now. In the other room.”

“We don’t want to miss that,” I say.

“I suppose it’s better than being ambushed by Leila,” Cleo replies, a grin on her lips, “although I’m kind of glad she did.”

We get up and follow the stream of people out of the room.

Chapter 30

Cleo

It’s magical, impromptu moments like this that make any nuisances that come with a tour more than worth it. To witness Isabel Adler giving an intimate solo performance, just her and a piano, is one of the most fantastic things that have happened on this tour so far—after the obvious, of course. The best part of it, besides Daphne’s mom, who flew in last night, going absolutely berserk, being that Lana was standing right next to me throughout the entire mini concert.

I’m still in a state of utter bliss when I end up in Isabel Adler’s kitchen, in search of a few moments away from the party, just to let it all sink in.

“Looking for something?” Isabel Adler herself walks in. “Because I’m looking for you.”

“You’re looking for me?” I bring my hand to my chest. “I find that hard to believe.”

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