Rewriting Rita by Kristy Tate

Author:Kristy Tate [Tate, Kristy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-16T00:00:00+00:00

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Typically when Miss Ryan was on the stage, Christian could focus on nothing else. He played the music with his fingers, but her every movement captivated his mind and soul. He thought her charming when she was dressed as the dying grandmother in Cordelia’s Chronicles, but he found her completely irresistible during the Vaudeville acts.

Keeping his fingers on the keyboard and his rump parked on the bench took incredible self-control because he desperately wanted to carry her off the stage, away from the eyes of the hundreds of men filling the hall.

He smiled when he hit a C instead of a D flat. Everyone occasionally takes a misstep, he thought, but his smile faded when he thought he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in the crowd. Kidrick? Could be, as the man was lurking behind the back row, too cheap to even purchase a seat.

Christian’s fingering faltered, and Ivan shot him a dark look. As much as Christian wanted to vault off his bench and follow the shadow out the back door, he forced himself to play. Four four time, key of C, an easy bit, if one’s mind wasn’t following a short Russian out onto Salt Lake City’s dark streets.

Miss Ryan smiled at him as she finished her song, and he read the question in her eyes. Putting on his poker face, he returned her smile. She visibly relaxed—the tension in her shoulders eased, and her steps quickened.

Would he tell her? No, not until he knew for sure. Was Kidrick following him? Following Miss Ryan? Christian had expected him, but with no idea where Kidrick might turn up. Christian knew that he and Miss Ryan couldn’t share a city with Kidrick. Maybe not even a continent. But how could he separate Miss Ryan from the theater troupe?

Clarisse scowled at him and he realized that he had continued playing even though her song had ended. He added a flourish to make it look intentional. He knew it a nasty thing to do—to leave her standing, mouth open and eyes blank—but she brightened as the air swelled with applause, and she took her bow.

Christian bolted as soon as the curtain fell. He pushed open the stage door, and the night air hit him about the same time as the realization that he would never find Kidrick now.

The next day was Sunday—no performances. Perhaps he could persuade Miss Ryan to accompany him on a picnic in the canyons. Where they would be lost. They would be forced to spend the rest of their lives eking out a modest existence in a small wooden cabin. She would grow vegetables, and he would catch fish in the nearby stream. He would play, and she would sing, he imagined, mentally waving away a question about where the piano would come from.

He stopped beneath a streetlight, watching the evening’s crowd exit the theater through the wide lobby doors. He was tall, but Kidrick was short. Christian couldn’t see Kidrick, but he thought he caught the odor of tobacco and licorice.

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