He began playing the guitar with skilled ease, summoning a delicate melody from the strings. In Xavier’s band, he’d played keyboards, but clearly his musical skills transcended one instrument.
The first song was a melancholy, elegant interpretation of “La Vie en Rose”—Hunter’s guitar giving it a modern twist and Allegra’s voice lifting the lyrics into something beautiful and rare.
Harper, who had meant to get up and go back to the bar, found herself transfixed. It was easy to understand what Xavier had seen in her as a performer. She was tiny and yet she held attention. It was hard to take your eyes off her.
The audience fell silent—absorbed in the music. When the song ended, the applause was rapturous.
Cara didn’t clap. Her gaze remained fixed on the stage as Allegra sang one beautiful song after another. Watching the light play across her features, Harper wondered what she was thinking.
It was near the end of the show when Allegra, flushed and glowing from the attention, spoke into the microphone. “This next song means everything to me. I want to dedicate this one to the love of my life. I miss you, Xavier.”
Even through the crowd’s applause Harper could hear Cara’s sharp intake of breath. Her fingers gripped the edge of the table as Hunter broke into the first notes of “Revolver Road.”
“I love you more than I ever thought I could,” Allegra sang in an ominous minor key. “I did things I never thought I would. Now the night grows long and the hour grows cold. Meet me on Revolver Road.”
Cara made a broken sound and jumped to her feet. Harper looked at her, confused, but the woman didn’t look at her. Covering her lips with one hand, she fled the room. Harper saw Jon Graff turn to watch with interest as she hurried blindly across the floor.
On the stage, Hunter fumbled a note as his eyes followed Cara. Allegra, though, didn’t miss a beat. Her perfect voice slid over the notes of Xavier’s song as if he’d written them for her.
Harper lost sight of Cara. She stood and made her way to the bar. Bonnie, who was drying glasses, lifted one eyebrow as she approached. “What the hell was that about?”
“I’m not sure,” Harper admitted, looking around. “Where’d she go?”
“Ladies’ room,” Bonnie said. “At a hundred miles per hour.”
Harper glanced back at the stage. Allegra was singing the last notes of the song. When she finished, the crowd roared. Ignoring their enthusiasm, Hunter stepped quickly to Allegra’s side and whispered in her ear.
She shook her head and said something in reply, quick and angry. Whatever it was, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
His face darkening, he resumed his place.
Beaming, Allegra grabbed the microphone. “Just one more song,” she said. “You’ve been the best audience. I’m so thankful for you being here.”
Hunter began to play again, thin shoulders hunched. Harper could sense him watching as she crossed to the ladies’ room. When the door closed behind her, the music faded into the background.
The room appeared empty, the row of graffitied cubicle doors all closed. The room smelled strongly of some aggressive air freshener.
“Cara?” Harper asked cautiously. “Are you okay?”
There was a long silence and then, after a second, movement—a shuffling of feet. Cara walked out of the stall at the end, a tissue in one hand, her eyes red.
“That bitch. How could she do that?”
“Do what? You mean the song?” Harper prompted, trying to piece it together.
“That song…” Cara’s voice broke and she sagged against the sink, covering her face. “Out of everything she could have chosen. She picked that song.” She was crying again. “I could see it on her face. I could see everything.”
Harper wasn’t sure what was happening. Cara looked absolutely shattered. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t mean to be insensitive but why shouldn’t she sing it?”
Cara gave her a look of disbelief. “Harper. Can’t you see? It’s so obvious what was going on. The two of them…”
Harper’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? Something between Hunter and Allegra?”
“Not Hunter.” A bitter laugh tore from Cara’s throat and she dropped her head to her hand. “God, I’m so stupid.”
“Cara. I don’t understand.” Harper stepped toward her. “Tell me what’s going on.”
A burst of applause poured in from the other room. The song must have ended.
“I’m such an idiot.” Lifting her head, Cara gave her a haunted look. “I was wrong about everything.”
Behind them the door flew open. A group of young women in short skirts and jeans walked in chattering loudly. Abruptly, Cara turned and ran, shoving past them to the door.
“Rude,” one of them commented. The others giggled.
“Cara, wait!” Harper ran after her, but she had to pause to let the women pass. When she got through, she raced into the main barroom. The stage was empty, the spotlights illuminating the two abandoned microphones. Music poured from the jukebox speakers again.
There was no sign of Cara.
The audience had moved from the tables and were now thronging around the bar.
Harper threaded her way through the crowd, toward the stage. It was quieter on that side of the room and she could clearly hear raised voices coming from the back room. When she reached it she paused, pressing her ear to the door. Hunter was shouting something.
Harper turned the handle, opening the door just wide enough to peer in.
Allegra, Hunter, and Cara stood in the harsh glare of a bare bulb surrounded by boxes of beer and wine in vivid green, red, and blue stacks. The room was cold, and smelled of dust and cardboard. Hunter and Allegra were side by side, facing Cara.
“Did you invite her?” Hunter was asking heatedly. “Are you trying to destroy everything?”
“You can’t be serious.” Giving them an incredulous look, Cara stepped toward them. “I’m trying to destroy everything? You’re out of your mind. There’s nothing left to destroy. It’s already gone.” She rounded on Allegra. “And you. How dare you sing his song? How dare you even touch his words? You disgust me.”
Whip-fast, Allegra slapped Cara’s face. The crack of the blow was so loud and violent, Harper gasped. The sound echoed in the sudden silence. Allegra and Hunter spun around to look at her. Cara didn’t move. She stood stock-still, one hand raised to her cheek, which bore the red imprint of Allegra’s hand.
“Harper.” Allegra cocked her head, dark eyes suddenly alert. “What are you doing here?” She seemed curiously unashamed, given what Harper had just witnessed.
Hunter, on the other hand, looked anxious. “It’s just an argument,” he explained. “Allegra didn’t mean…”
With a muffled sob, Cara turned on her heel and ran for the door. Harper stepped aside to let her pass, holding the door wide. When she was gone, she hesitated long enough to see Hunter and Allegra exchange a weighted look before heading off in search of Cara.
She wasn’t sure what she was witnessing here: whether this was three guilty people who’d done something awful bowing to the pressure, or a group of friends crumbling beneath the unbearable weight of grief and public attention. Or something else entirely. Something involving Xavier Rayne and Allegra.