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CHAPTER 57
The energy in Marlin’s Park was electric as people streamed through the gates on that crisp October evening. Natalia stood backstage, gazing out at the slowly filling arena.
The domed roof was closed to keep out the humidity, and the air conditioning hummed steadily, blasting away the sticky heat of the day. Row upon row of seats circled the extravagant stage that had been constructed on the baseball field below.
A buzz of excitement hung thick in the cool air as attendees found their places. The steady beat of music pumped through the speakers, ratcheting up the atmosphere. Voices echoed off the cavernous cement walls, merging into an expectant din.
Backstage, Natalia observed the controlled chaos preparing for showtime like she was a visitor in someone else’s body. Dancers stretched and ran through routines, while technicians bustled about twiddling knobs and adjusting spotlights. Makeup artists dabbed and powdered the lineup of singers and celebrities waiting in the wings.
She was entirely too calm in the chaos. Months of planning had led to this moment, and her lack of tense muscles probably meant she wasn’t prepared enough. But there was just too much pride in her chest to make room for fear.
“Natalia,” Carmen’s mother, a serious woman Natalia had liked the moment she’d donated her time and law firm to the cause pro bono, approached her with a troop of suits behind her. “They’re here.”
Attention darting to the Founders & Legends Suite skybox perched behind home plate. She couldn’t see from clear across the stadium, but knowing that Miami’s most famous daughter, her own actual queer daughter, had arrived was a thrill.
“You really got her,” Natalia said with open admiration.
Carmen’s mother grinned. “I told you I would.”
Looking back at the skybox, Natalia couldn’t help her smile. Just their high-profile presence alone was a huge boon, but if they contributed to the cause, it would be a big step toward their daunting goal.
“Ma’am, you can’t be back here!”
The sound of a screech forced Natalia’s attention toward a commotion. Ready for things to fall apart at any moment, Natalia charged toward the problem.
“Says who?” the familiar voice shot back.
When the crowd parted for Natalia, she confirmed her suspicion. Sky Bamford, the owner of the building that housed Dominion Talent Agency and now Dominion Films as well, was pushing past a volunteer usher with her little Fennec fox in the crook of her arm. Her creepy sidekick, Fortune, followed behind her.
“Natalie, darling, I can’t stay for your show, but White Fox Enterprises wanted to make a small contribution to your little endeavor.”
Blood rushed into her eardrums. Rage nearly severed the connection from her brain to her body. She was about to rip the entitled old kook into shreds for getting her name wrong when a check was suddenly in her hand.
“Oh, no dear, no photos,” Bamford said to the kid with the camera.
Natalia looked down at the paper, her eyes not believing the number of zeros. Suddenly the urge to tell off the entitled billionaire lost its urgency. If this was a paltry sum, she couldn’t imagine what a lot was.
“Send the paperwork to my accountant,” Bamford said before disappearing back into the crowd like Natalia had any idea who her accountant was or what paperwork she meant.
A flurry of noise and people surrounded her while Natalia checked and re-checked that they were ready to start. On time and without major hitches.
She was on her way to command central, where the production team was stationed, when a warm hand slipped into hers. Sam, platinum hair freshly bleached and undercut newly buzzed, was at her side.
“Hey, babe.” Sam kissed her cheek.
“You’re supposed to be in your seat.” Natalia pointed toward the small skybox she’d reserved for her by paying the hefty deposit like everyone else.
Sam smiled. “No problem. If you come with me.”
“I can’t?—”
“Before you give me your Type A excuses…” Sam held up a small, black walkie-talkie. “It will take less than thirty seconds to get from the suite to HQ, and everyone has sworn blood oaths to call if the slightest thing goes wrong.”
Natalia glared. “You think you’re so cute.”
Sam rocked on her heels. “And I’m so often right,” she replied before kissing her lips. “Let’s watch this incredible show you’ve put together, huh? Why else did all those experienced event professionals donate their time to this? Let them do what they do best.”
“Fine,” she relented, but only because the suite had a different vantage point than the production box. She’d be able to watch for fires they might miss.
