Broken Resolutions. Оливия Гейтс
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arrived at the fairly compact popular West London venue, Caitlin had found herself having to change into her stage gear in the ladies’ room, because by the time they’d rehearsed, done a sound-check and had a meeting with the venue manager there had been no time to go back to Jake’s place and get ready.
Frowning into one of the less than pristine mirrors, she had applied her make-up with a thumping heart and trembling hand, inadvertently spilling the contents of her make-up bag into the porcelain sink when she’d yanked out a tissue too hard to pat her lipstick dry with.
Now she stood in the wings with the rest of the band, feeling a bit like a little girl playing dress-up in her mother’s best clothes, only partially tuning in to Rick’s animated pep talk as he paced up and down in front of them, like an army sergeant pumping up his platoon for battle. In front of the small raised stage the crowd had swelled and the anticipation that crackled in the air was not dissimilar to the lightning strike before a torrential downpour.
There was a rumour going round that many of Blue Sky’s fans who had supported them from the beginning with Marcie had turned up to support the band’s return, in spite of their disappointment that she had walked out. Naturally Caitlin fretted that she would never pass muster.
Rick had told her that her style was quite different from Marcie’s but that that was a good thing. Her strong vocal suited the band’s music perfectly. Like a match made in heaven, he had assured her with a smile. But, while she welcomed the compliment, and was glad that the relative intimacy of the venue was perhaps not as intimidating as a much larger one might have been, her stomach was sick with nerves at the thought of being put through the ultimate baptism of fire for a new singer.
And where was Jake? He had been with them up until about half an hour ago, when he’d murmured something about ‘last-minute arrangements’ then disappeared. Caitlin found that now, when it came to the crunch, she needed his assurance more than ever.
‘Is everyone okay?’
And suddenly he was there, his grin lighting up the dim little space to the side of the stage like a beacon shining in the dark, his misty blue eyes immediately seeking her out as though it was implicitly understood that she was the one who needed his assurance the most.
‘You look terrific,’ he told her.
Even as he spoke, Jake was thinking that she looked much better than that. She looked nothing less than drop-dead gorgeous. The purple velvet top she had selected on their shopping trip clung to her body in all the right places and her long black skirt skimmed the flat plane of her stomach and the soft swell of her hips as though it had been exclusively designed for her shape and her shape alone. Inevitably, his blood headed immediately south. Even if Caitlin couldn’t sing a note, the men in the crowd were going to give her a lot of rope and that was a fact. It heartened him to know that they were all going to be pleasantly surprised.
‘Trust me. You haven’t got a thing to worry about. Just go out there and sing like you do in rehearsals, but even better. If you get nervous, then just focus on me…I’ll be out front as soon as you get onstage.’
‘Okay. I’ll do that… I can do that.’ Caitlin managed to summon up a smile from only God knew where.
Eager to add his own brand of reassurance, Rick ran his hands up and down the sides of her slim arms and planted a sound kiss on her cheek. ‘Just for luck, beautiful…not that you’re going to need it.’
She barely opened her eyes during the first few bars of the opening number. It was much easier to simply shut out the sight of the crowd so that she could sing. She had been taken aback by the vociferous welcome they’d received from the fans when they walked onto the stage, somehow not expecting it to be quite as effusive as it had been. They didn’t know her yet, and Caitlin had a lot to prove…
However, she was quickly swept away by the music and the need to sing, and as the wall of sound crashed over her she patted her thigh in time with the beat and started to enjoy herself. She was sure that performing in front of an audience must be an even bigger adrenaline rush than shooting rapids, and nothing had ever felt so right or so perfect.
That was when she finally opened her eyes. That was when she saw Jake…
He was clapping along with the rest of the crowd, watchful and silently assessing, his features so handsome and compelling that several women in the audience furtively glanced his way whether they were with someone or not. Releasing a long breath, Caitlin gave him a brief smile, then turned her attention back to the avid sea of faces in front of her.
Many people were capturing her and the band with their mobile phone cameras. She could almost feel the tangible sense of surprise in the air, the pleasure—and beneath the cool black satin of her long flowing skirt her legs couldn’t help trembling. Steve Bridges gave her an extra drumroll to indicate his approval, and to her left Mike Casey muttered low, for her ears only, ‘You’re going to have them eating out of your hands, Cait.’
And she did. By the time they’d finished the final number of the night the crowd was with her all the way, cheering and clapping and stamping their feet for more. As baptisms of fire went, Caitlin couldn’t have wished for a more favourable flame.
Backstage, she ran the gauntlet of well-wishers, road crew and fans alike, arriving in the small room the band had been allocated to more back-slapping, applause and champagne…courtesy of Jake. She barely registered the burst of bubbles on her tongue because everything felt so surreal. However, she did register the satisfying feel of Jake’s strong arm wound possessively round her waist.
If anybody speculated on the ‘extra-special’ attention she was getting, no one dared voice it—least of all Rick, who was watching them with a stern ‘headmaster’ scowl as he bellowed to no one in particular that he needed another beer and fast.
Outside, as the venue emptied and the road crew loaded the van with Blue Sky’s equipment—‘Tank’ and Dave, stalwarts of the industry, who had worked with Jake many times before—Rick pulled Caitlin aside as she was about to step up and get into Jake’s familiar black car.
Jake had given her his keys and told her he wouldn’t be long. He was still inside, checking arrangements for the following night when they would play their second and final London gig. There would be an even bigger crowd the next night, he’d told her, because the press would have got wind of her performance via the comments posted on social media sites and would come to check it out.
As Caitlin stood waiting to hear what Rick had to say, right on cue it started to rain.
‘Is something the matter?’ she asked warily.
‘I don’t know. You tell me.’
‘Now you’re being cryptic.’ She started to smile, but straight away saw Rick wasn’t in the mood to be placated.
‘Is something going on between you and Jake?’ he demanded.
Her stomach plummeted to her boots.
‘And don’t tell me you don’t know what I mean.’
His hazel eyes were accusing and his shaggy blond hair was beginning to wave even more in the rain. Tugging up the collar of her raincoat, Caitlin shuddered.
It had been an amazing night. She had not only overcome her trepidation at singing in public, she had really begun to live her dream. She was bursting to talk to Lia and tell her all about it. Up until just a moment ago she’d wanted to shout out her news to the whole world. I did it! I really am a singer in a bona fide rock band! But now, as she gazed anxiously back at Rick, she felt as though someone had got a pin and deliberately popped her balloon.
‘There’s nothing going on between me and Jake other than him looking out for me and helping me settle in…with the band, I mean.’
‘We can’t afford another screw-up after the Marcie debacle. If you end up walking out on everyone because you got too involved with Jake then it will have serious implications for the band. I don’t think they deserve