Priceless : A Novel Part 17

A nod and a shrug. "Look, they can think what they want. When they hear you sing, they'll realize that it doesn't matter what your background is. What matters is that you're really talented and have something rare-talent and drive and beauty. And"-here he pretended to blow on his fingernails-"you'll be singing my arrangements, which are brilliant."

"And"-this from Kat-"you'll also look like a million bucks, because I'm going to style you. It's going to be awesome. When's the next gig?"

"Wednesday. Time enough to rehea.r.s.e with the rest of the band and get ready." Everyone around the table looked at Charlotte. "What do you say, Charlie? Are you up for it?"

She thought about it. About how she was trying to lie low and start over. About how scared she was about this guy who was stalking her, despite everyone else taking it so lightly. And then she thought about her mom singing to her and how nice all of these people had been to her. She owed them. And she owed herself.

"Sure. Why the h.e.l.l not? I love singing, and people here don't really know who I am, so much."

She hoped.

JACKSON WAS A man of his word. By the time dinner was over, he'd been on the phone to his band, and a rehearsal was set up for the next day.

Millie clucked at him. "The girl's been through a lot, Jackson. Go easy, OK?"

He shook his head, looking at Charlotte. "Nope. She's much tougher than everyone thinks. Just because she's had a pampered life doesn't mean she isn't capable of standing on her own two feet and kicking some b.u.t.t."

Kat laughed. "Well, she'd have to be standing on her own two feet to kick some b.u.t.t, or she'd fall on her a.s.s."

"Again," added Charlotte, wondering how long it'd been since she'd laughed at herself.

At first, the thought of performing with Jackson had made her nervous, but now she recognized the feeling as exhilaration. She knew her voice was good, and she'd loved the music he'd taught her, and why not go for it? Besides, she was encouraged by Jackson's faith in her. He was right-she was tougher than everyone thought.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX.

Working with Jackson turned out to be just as hard as his sister had warned her. The easy, affable guy from dinner turned into a focused ball buster once he got in front of the band.

The rehearsal was taking place in an old theater in the Quarter, which was available as a practice s.p.a.ce. The curtains were dusty, and the chairs looked as if they hadn't been sat in for decades, but there was something magical about it. Old posters lined the backstage area: King Oliver, Cab Calloway, Fats Domino. Charlotte wondered how many amazing singers had looked out at the auditorium just as she was doing. Startled from her dreaming by Jackson barking her name, she tried to pay attention.

It was hard work, getting two dozen musicians to do what you needed them to do, especially if you were also trying to introduce a new singer. Generally speaking, the band members were young native New Orleanians, like Jackson, with the occasional old-timer. The lead sax player had come out of retirement, he said, to play with Jackson's band, and she was chatting with him when Jackson lost his temper at her.

"Charlotte, are you actually listening to me? Because I'm talking to you."

She spun around, horrified. "I'm sorry, Jackson, I was chatting with Chick." She grinned over her shoulder at the old man. "He's very charming."

Jackson wasn't buying it. "I don't care if he's Prince Charming, pay some f.u.c.king attention, or you won't know the arrangements, and when we play tomorrow night, I'll look like an idiot."

Charlotte hung her head. "Sorry, Jackson."

"Fine."

He picked up his baton and told the band to start at the top. Charlotte got ready, and when her cue came, she belted out the introductory verse to "Summertime." It sounded great, and from behind her, she heard Chick calling out, "Sing it, baby." It was a great feeling, to be standing in front of such a wall of music, the ba.s.s physically shaking the floor, knowing that you're doing a good job.

After a couple of hours, Jackson declared himself satisfied, and he took Charlotte's hand and shook it. "You did great. I'm sorry if I yelled. The music is really important to me, the band is really important to me, and being successful in my own city is really important to me. I think you're awesome, honestly."

The other musicians were filing out, and Jackson suddenly had a thought.

"Hey, do you want to learn some more songs? I was thinking we might be able to pick up work as a duet. Not every venue can support a big band, and it might be nice to change it up a bit, you know?"

Charlotte nodded. "Your own music or standards like the other day?"

"My own stuff, if that's cool. I haven't heard it in another voice, either, so it might help me refine it." He pulled a pile of ma.n.u.script paper from his bag.

"Sure."

They headed for Millie's house, and as they caught the cable car together, Charlotte was amazed at how beautiful the city looked in the sparkling spring suns.h.i.+ne. Tourists mingled easily with locals, young with old, black with white. It was unique.

Back in Millie's living room, Jackson sat down at the piano, and after hesitating a moment, Charlotte sat next to him. In order to see the music he'd propped up on the piano, she had to wriggle closer, and she felt the warmth of his thigh pressing against hers. Despite herself, Charlotte felt herself responding to him. He played the first song through once, a gorgeously modulated mid-tempo love song. "On the outside you're ice and fire, a live wire that flicks a switch and turns me on, a beautiful fall of gold and green, I've seen you in my dreams forever." "On the outside you're ice and fire, a live wire that flicks a switch and turns me on, a beautiful fall of gold and green, I've seen you in my dreams forever."

She picked up the melody the second time through and started chiming in on harmonies, adding depth to his voice, which was warm and s.e.xy. It was a great song, and as she listened to the melody, she closed her eyes and swayed against him on the piano bench. Still playing, Jackson turned his head and kissed her, swiftly and as if it was no big thing. But for her, it felt like sun through the clouds, and she turned and caught his face between her hands and kissed him back, deeply and hungrily. He took his hands from the keys and put them on her waist. He pulled her onto his lap, running his hands along her slender thighs and pulling her against him, feeling her move. The keyboard was pressing into her back, hurting her, but she didn't care. He hadn't shaved that morning, and his rough stubble was warming her neck as he kissed her, biting her gently, making the breath catch in her throat.

He stood up, her legs wrapped around his waist, and slowly made his way from the living room to his bedroom, the bed still unmade from the night before. Gently, he laid her down and moved quickly himself, pulling off his s.h.i.+rt and reaching to help her with hers. Her shoulders gleamed pale against his smooth brown hands as he stroked her, feeling her shudder in the cool air of the room. He tangled his hands in her hair, pulling it forward to watch it drape across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She was so lovely, so slender and strong, her eyes cloudy with the same desire he felt. She knelt up, still only reaching his broad shoulders, and bent her head to kiss his chest.

"Do you ..." His voice was hoa.r.s.e, and he paused, swallowing, feeling nervous with a woman for the first time in many years.

She nodded, unwilling to speak herself, worried that she would start to cry. She felt so vulnerable, even though she trusted him. It was if all those times she'd made love before hadn't actually been her but some other person. This was her, Charlotte, plain and simple, and he wanted her just for who she was, not what she had. Part of her was fearful that she wouldn't be enough alone, without her money and glamour, but then she looked into his eyes and saw how much he wanted her, how simple it really was. She relaxed and let him take her in his arms, closing her eyes and losing herself in the pleasure that followed.

SOMETIME LATER, SHE woke and watched him sleeping, a slight smile curving on his lips. woke and watched him sleeping, a slight smile curving on his lips. I put that smile there I put that smile there, she thought, and reached out to trace it with her finger. His mouth twitched, and his eyes opened, finding hers immediately.

"Well, h.e.l.lo there." He pulled her closer, wrapping his strong arms around her and pulling the full length of her against him.

"h.e.l.lo." She felt a little shy, despite the pa.s.sion she'd just shown him.

"You're an attractive girl, did you know that? I expect you know that. People tell you all the time." He was laughing at her, but he meant it.

"It's been said. I've heard it. Although not lately. You can say it again if you like."

He grinned, punctuating his speech with kisses. "You. Are. Gorgeous. s.e.xy. Strong. s.e.xy."

"You already said s.e.xy."

"Well, it's an important feature, and I have to say right now, I'm very aware of it."

"I can feel that."

He began kissing her again. "Where was I? Oh, yeah, s.e.xy. Funny. Smart. Talented."

She started to giggle, not just at his words but also at what his hands were doing under the covers. "Don't stop, you're doing so well."

"Don't stop talking, or don't stop doing this?"

She gasped, her face flus.h.i.+ng suddenly. "Just ... don't ... stop, OK?"

He didn't.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.

When they walked into Kat's store together, she raised her eyebrows.

"Well, h.e.l.lo, young lovers." Kat was wearing a 1950s summer dress with a full skirt and wedge-heeled espadrilles. Very Roman Holiday Roman Holiday. She listened indulgently as Charlotte told her about the rehearsal, and decided to wait until later to get the details of what had clearly happened afterward.

"I need an evening dress to wear for the orchestra gig tomorrow night. Something s.e.xy in the extreme."

Jackson grinned. "Not so s.e.xy that no one looks at the other musicians but something that the singer fronting the band deserves. Cla.s.sy. Think of it as her grand introduction to New Orleans society."

"Except in a scandalous, nightclubby, jazz-band kind of way." Charlotte was giggling; both of them were still giddy.

Kat tipped her head to one side. "So, s.e.xy but not too s.e.xy, cla.s.sy, society-appropriate but a little scandalous, and jazzy." She held up a finger. "I have just the thing."

And she did.

When Charlotte stepped out of the dressing room, both Kat and Jackson caught their breath, for slightly different reasons.

The dress was simple in line, suspended by two shoulder straps and hanging straight to the floor. Heavily beaded and folded, it looked like gold leaf, and the heaviness of it made it cling to Charlotte's curves as if it had been painted on. The metallic color made her skin glow and played off the tawny streaks in her hair. When she turned around, she revealed that the dress was almost totally backless, dipping down to the small of her back.

Charlotte was beside herself. "It's awesome. I have never felt so glamorous and gorgeous in my life."

Kat was smiling like the cat who got the canary. "Vintage Worth couture, 1950s. I've been saving it. Apparently for you, as it looks as if it was fitted on." She turned to Jackson. "What do you think, Mr. Bandleader? Good enough for jazz?"

He just nodded, his eyes gleaming. It was going to be one h.e.l.l of a gig.

ONCE THE DRESS was off again and carefully wrapped in tissue, Charlotte glanced at her watch. was off again and carefully wrapped in tissue, Charlotte glanced at her watch.

"s.h.i.+t, I'm going to be late for work." She hugged Kat. "You are so amazing."

"I know," Kat said, airily. "I'm even going to walk you to work. I want to see my dad."

They were half a block away when Charlotte heard her name.

"Ms. Williams?" An attractive young woman was coming toward her, a microphone in her hand. Charlotte frowned and stepped back, and the woman held up her hand. "Don't worry, it's not on." The three friends stopped, wary. "I'm Selena Messier, from Channel Nine ..." There was a question implicit in her tone, and she waited before continuing. "We have a show you might have seen called Crescent City Connection Crescent City Connection?"

Charlotte took pity on her. "I just got here, Miss Messier, as you doubtless know, and I haven't had time to catch up on local TV. I'm not interested in doing any interviews, and I have nothing to say."

"I just have a few questions. It won't take a moment."

Charlotte sighed. "What kind of questions?"

Selena smiled. "You know, general questions about how you're finding life here in New Orleans, how you're settling in, how your job is going, that kind of thing."

"How do you know I have a job?"

There was a slight pause. "I read it online."

"On the Charlotte Williams Sucks Web site? That's the only site that's mentioned it that I know of."

Selena's smile didn't waver. "I'm a reporter. Your father might have disappeared into the legal system, but it's still a big story, and you moved into my neighborhood. Of course, I'm going to follow up. I'm surprised I'm the only one."

"You're not. Dan Robinson from the New York Sentinel New York Sentinel is here, too." is here, too."

That made her smile slip a little. "Really? Have you given him an interview?"

Charlotte shook her head.

"Well, will you at least think about it?" She handed Charlotte a business card. "You can call me anytime at all, OK?"

Charlotte nodded. "I'll think about it. The press haven't been my friends lately."

Selena turned up her smile another one hundred watts. Suddenly, Charlotte was reminded of a baby alligator.

"Well, maybe we can change that."

Everybody smiled politely, and then Charlotte and her friends headed into the restaurant.

DAVID KARRABY WAS glowing with good humor, as usual. glowing with good humor, as usual.

"Kat Karraby, fas.h.i.+on icon, what brings you here to the old family biz?"

She hugged him. "I just wanted to see you, Daddy. How's it going?"

He lifted her off her feet, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of Charlotte and Jackson.

"It's going well, darlin', except your momma is getting anxious to see you." He looked at Charlotte. "And she wants to meet your new friend, baby."

"Well, maybe this weekend."

David Karraby looked over her shoulder. "OK, sweetness, I have guests to welcome. I'll see you later, OK?"

Kat laughed as he pushed past her. "Well, 'bye, then." She turned to Charlotte. "Let's get you back to work. And then an early night-that dress is heavy; you'll need to rest up."