“Quick. Sit in the chair and look like I’m about to do your hair.”
Mel practically shoved her into the seat.
The rhythm had now turned into thundering steps. They were close. Why had she agreed to this? Her heart pounded so hard she thought for sure it must be visible through her evening gown.
“Breathe, Chais.” Rick’s lips touched her cheek after his quiet words.
Taking his advice, she breathed deep. Then again. And again.
The marching stopped. “Heil Hitler!” The loud shouts were almost enough to bust down the door.
Why such a racket to simply speak to her? To show his power? To intimidate them?
The loud single knock was superfluous at this point.
“Here we go,” Melanie whispered. Three steps to the door. The turn of the knob. “Good evening. How may I help you?”
“Miss Frappier is expecting the Führer.” The voice was high-pitched for a man and sounded far too young to be serving as a soldier. “Heil Hitler!”
“We are short on time, Herr Hitler, so I must insist that you don’t take up all of Miss Frappier’s time.”
Where that bravado came from in Melanie, Chaisley wasn’t sure, but she wanted to cheer her friend on.
“Fräulein Frappier.” The voice of Hitler. A man she’d come to despise. Hate even. “It is wonderful to see you again.”
Every word grated on her skin. But she lifted a hand to him, knuckles up. “Good evening.” She couldn’t even bring herself to speak his name.
And then... he touched her. Took her hand in his and kissed the back of it.
At least the man could pretend he had the manners of good society. Old society. Before war had torn up the world. She pulled her hand back.
“Thank you for coming to perform for us tonight. This will be a gift to my men and most trusted supporters. There are intense days ahead, and I know this will be a boost to them.”
Intense days? She couldn’t thank him for inviting her. Couldn’t say she was excited to be here. Whatcouldshe say? “It will be a privilege to play the impeccable instrument I hear you have acquired.”
“The best of the best.” Pride oozed from his tone, and she imagined the tiny mustache above his lip doing a little dance as he congratulated himself for taking it.
“Fräulein.” He stepped closer, and she could once again smell his putrid breath. “In a few months, we will have much to celebrate. I wish you to return the middle of November for that.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a request. Hitler wished it and she was supposed to acquiesce.
She snapped her fingers and turned her head away from the man. “Melanie! Check my schedule, please.” Pretending she was a diva gave her a moment to stall.
Always quick on her feet, especially these last few weeks, Melanie sounded like she was digging in a bag and going over papers. “Miss Frappier will be in Amsterdam the middle of November.”
“Plans can be changed. She will play for me again on the fifteenth of November.” His voice turned away from Chaisley. Then steps. “Please play my favorites tonight, Fräulein.”
Shuffling, steps. Then the marching started down the hall again.
The door clicked shut. Then locked.
“I don’t like it.” Rick squeezed Chaisley’s shoulders. “I don’t like it at all. Celebration? What does he have planned?”
She didn’t like it either. “I guess that’s the reason he demanded to speak to me today? At this point, he won’t take no for an answer, so we will simply pretend to go along with it. Somehow.”
“Chais, I think it’s time we discuss ending the tour early. You can pretend all you want that you’ll return, but I don’t think we should come back.”
Melanie’s firm words resonated within her. She was right.
To come back here would be foolish.
