Page 56 of The Duet

“I’m serious.” She takes the hand Lana held onto for so long earlier. “If Lana wants you, who am I to stand in the way of that?”

I’m still too wrapped up in all things Lana to argue with her about this.

“You say that now, Jessie, but…”

Tim, who hasn’t been following our conversation, shouts, “Epic goodbye-to-New-York party tonight. We’re going to Glow to dance the night away.” He faces Jess and me. “Word is, literally everyone is going.”

“Izzy and Leila included?” Daphne asks.

“I don’t know about that. They’re kind of past clubbing age, I think. I meant everyone on the tour.”

“Lana as well?” Despite what she just said, Jess can’t help herself.

“Everyone,” Tim confirms, as though he’s everyone’s social secretary. “Before you leave New York, you have to par-tay!” He glances at me. “You’re in, right, Cleo? After a show like that, you can’t possibly curl up in bed with a book. You need to process the adrenaline running through you. You—”

“Tim!” I shout, because he’s completely beside himself. “I’m going.” Our band could do with one of those nights out that we can reminisce over for years to come; something to put the past few weeks of turmoil behind us. And he did say Lana was going as well.

I’ve always hated cordoned-off VIP areas in clubs because they defeat the whole purpose of going to a club—that shared experience of moving your body to the same beat as all the other writhing, sweaty people on the dance floor. But when you’re out with The Lady Kings, you need the protection. Although no matter how thick the rope separating us from the rest of the crowd, it can’t keep Lana’s admirers away. A line of people who want a piece of Lana has formed, held back by a security guard.

She’s gracious enough to give everyone who wants to talk to her a few minutes of her time. She seems to be enjoying herself. Lana has just finished a conversation with a big smile on her lips, even throwing in a quick hug. She taps the security guard on the shoulder and whispers something in his ear. He squares his shoulders and tells the people on the other side of the rope something. Perhaps she’s had enough now.

Lana is swallowed up by her entourage. I focus my attention back on my bandmates, but Tim is nowhere to be seen—although I can easily guess he’s on the dance floor, enjoying every ounce of attention he can get. Daphne is canoodling with Tessie in one of the couches. Jess seems completely engrossed in a conversation with Billie—it sure beats Billie trying to hit on me again.

Logan sidles up to me. He refills my glass of champagne and tops up his own. It’s going to be one of those nights, but we don’t have an early wake-up call tomorrow, nor do we have a show in the evening. And New York has been spectacular, in more ways than one.

“Have I told you how much of a fan I am of yours and The Other Women?” Logan says.

“Only once or twice.”

“Then this is me telling you a third time.” He curves his arm around my shoulder. “This tour is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.”

“Glad you’re having fun.”

“Fun doesn’t even begin to describe it.” He gives my shoulder a little squeeze before removing his arm. “It’s the experience of a lifetime.”

“How long have you been working for Lana?” Now’s as good a time as any to extract a bit of information.

“Coming up to three years now. When I started, this tour was but a glint in Roy and Andy’s eyes, and look at us now. Look at Lana now.”

“How is she doing?”

“Okay, I think.” He gives me a quick once-over. “You?”

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, puh-lease, Cleo. I look much younger than I am, but I’ve been around the block a few times.” He arches up his eyebrows. “When you sing together, we all see what’s going on. It’s so much more than a duet.” He brings his hand to his chest. “I don’t merely love Isabel Adler. I absolutely adore her, but even I, rabid Izzy fan, must admit that the version you and Lana sing is…” He shrugs dramatically. “I’m usually a guy of many words, but I don’t even have words for it. Just like this tour is a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me, you and Lana singing “I Should Have Kissed You” to each other in the way that you do, in the way that you clearly can’t help yourself doing, is like a once-in-a-lifetime musical experience. Even Isabel Adler took a step back so she could see you and Lana sing it. What more proof do you need?”

“It’s just a song, Logan.”

“The hell it is, and I think we both know that. Lana knows it. Everybody knows it. Maybe you’re just not ready to see it for what it really is.”

“And what might that be?” I take a sip of champagne.

“L.O.V.—”

“Is this man harassing you, Miss Palmer?” Lana playfully punches Logan in the biceps. “If so, I’ll have him removed from the VIP area immediately.”

Logan eyes Lana, then me, then pulls a face as though drawing the only obvious conclusion.

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