Page 57 of Under His Sheets
The crowd continued to applaud loudly. I smiled, waved a hand to be professional—and then I saw movement outside the windows. The floodlights glinted off the visors of police helmets.
I kept a strained smile on my face and concentrated on breathing evenly.
“And now, we all know that I am a bit of a competitive man,” Paolo said as the room erupted in laughter. “So along with this wonderful performance with my son, I challenged Randall to play a few songs with me.”
The crowd was audibly impressed and they continued to clap as we moved over to the stools, prepared our guitars to play, andwaited for them to settle in. I hoped that whatever was going on outside, no one would get hurt, especially not Pere. All I could do was play and hope for the best.
“Would you like to choose the first song, Randall?”
“I would. Are we singing?”
“Sí, és clar. You start. We take turns.”
Alrighty then.
I played the opening cords to “Light My Fire” as performed by Jose Feliciano, which had been fun to learn. I was a huge fan of The Doors and learned to play many of their songs when I was young, but this version was special.
I sang the first verse and we harmonized on the choruses. I kept the vocal pyrotechnics to a minimum at first, but by the end of the song, I was fired up, so to speak. I used the guitar as a percussive instrument as Paolo continued to strum and play an intricate solo. When it was over, the applause was the loudest yet, and Paolo reached out to shake my hand.
“You are quite good,” he said in a low voice. “I’m very impressed, Randall.” And he nodded as if to apologize for his previous attitude toward me. “You want to start the next one?”
“You go ahead,” I said, and he went into “Malagueña.” This one had been the most challenging song of the three to learn. I wasn’t a hundred percent with the lyrics, so I let him sing it, watching him closely.
Paolo Ferrer was every bit the talented guitarist and vocalist he believed himself to be, which was a pleasant surprise. And the longer we played together, the more respect I saw in his gaze. If nothing else came out of this event, perhaps he’d at least go on to tell the other parents at the school that their teacher was indeed qualified to teach the kids.
We were about to launch into some Julio Iglesias when two things happened to derail our performance.
I caught sight of someone I hadn’t expected to be there…with someone I wouldn’t have imagined she’d be with.
Camille. On the arm of Ambròs Vidal.
She did not look happy to see me, or more fittingly, she didn’t seem happy to beseen. She hadn’t said anything about coming while we were shopping. Why was she with this guy who was many years her senior? And scary?
And second, there was a commotion at the back door and several big guys went running outside.
Paolo saw it too, and he held up a hand. “We’re going to take a little break. Si us plau, eat and drink, my friends.”
The crowd returned to loud chatter, oblivious to what was going on, and Paolo grabbed me by the arm.
“Come with me. Bring the guitar.”
I let him lead me out of the room and into the office. He took the guitar from me and placed it in the case. “You should be more careful who you are dating, Randall.”
I blanched. “Excuse me?”
“Your date is not who he says he is. He is Ejército de Tierra. Spanish Army. Did you know this?”
“I was told he was an art student.” I wasn’t lying exactly. I figured it would be safest to stick to our story.
“Yes, well, I believe he was here under false pretenses. Randall, my son adores you and that is why I invited you into my home, but there are matters at hand that don’t involve you, and I fear you are being used.”
That was not at all what I thought his reaction would be.
“My apologies if my date caused any issues. He seems to have abandoned me, so perhaps I should do a better job choosing in the future.” My stomach clenched and I prayed once more to the sweat gods for mercy.
He glanced over my shoulder, and I turned to find Jaume standing behind me.
“He did not abandon?—”
