Fernando gasped again, thinking this would be an opportune moment for thunder to clap. A more ominous sound interrupted: the stage door opening.
Fernando pranced into the hallway, playbill clutched behind his back. Christoph was framed in the entry, his silhouette nearly as thin as the shaft of his umbrella.
His eyes darkened. Lightning flashed behind him, and thunder roared.
For fuck’s sake,thought Fernando, wondering how he managed such perfect timing.
“Good to see you,” said Fernando, extending his free hand toshake. His left hand. Christoph grasped it hesitantly. His pesky eyebrow-of-judgment arched so high it gave Fernando a headache. He peered over Fernando’s shoulder, easy for him at his towering height. “What have you got there? Were you snooping about in my office?”
“Not snooping, investigating. Call it… method acting?” said Fernando.
Christoph chuckled, but with an unfamiliar steeliness. He pursed his lips. A bell rang in his office, preventing whatever quip he had been poised to throw. He sauntered in and clicked on a security feed, which buzzed to life on a staticky tube TV. Fernando coughed to cover the sound as he ripped a page from the playbill, then shoved it back onto the shelf, smiling nervously. As the image fizzled on, they both saw her. Standing outside the theater entrance, holding a massive bouquet and waving, was Sterling.
Christoph rolled his eyes affectionately. “Why’s she here?”
“No clue. But you know how she gets when she’s excited.”
“Indeed. I let my rascal of a niece get away with anything.”
“Don’t we all?”
Christoph took a deep breath. “Let’s get started before she burns the place down. Wait by the stage, I’ll change out of this coat, then go get her,” he said. He returned the playbill Fernando had mangled to its correct spot, scowling as he eyed the cover.
He ushered Fernando out and shut the door behind him. From the hall, Fernando heard the rusty desk drawer squeak open. There were two items in there. The whiskey and the revolver.
He clenched his eyes shut, praying Christoph was just an alcoholic.
— 54 —Vierundfünfzig
The awning under the Grand Theater’s gap-toothed marquee dipped, weary with disrepair. What the establishment lacked in beauty, it made up for in building-code violations. The grandeur had been crumbling for some time.
Sterling cradled a massive arrangement of purple flowers. Only the best for her sugarbutt’s stage debut. The air was muggy, the bouquet heavy. The door creaked open.
Christoph stared down his nose at her. “This is aclosedaudition.”
“Really? I heard today’s the opening ofFernando’s One-Man One-Monologue Stage Spectacular!”
She whistled. “You can come out now!”
A ready-made audience emerged from around the corner, shaking their umbrellas.
“This won’t sway my casting decision,” he said, massaging his temples.
First came Verena, escorted by her new beau, the distinguished Dr. Schlesser. Rita L’Amour swanned in, fuchsia sequins glimmering. Mr. K followed her, escorted by his two-day hangover.
A few new guests had joined the family. Mrs. Boring, who’d recently filed for divorce, was delighted to attend. Though, for some reason, she sneered at the sight of Verena and her new boyfriend. Sterling had delivered an invitation to Frau Thursday via Kleines Café and received a polite letter declining. It was delivered by Mr. Left and Mr. Right, who attended on her behalf. Alas, the message hadn’t self-destructed in sixty seconds. Rather disappointing. There was still hope for her birthday card.
The final guests arrived. Andreas climbed the stairs, grumbling and sopping wet. He looked cranky and, with his black curls dripping onto his shirt, made translucent from rain, irresistible.
Andreas eyed the flowers in her arms, and the crowd. He shook his head and sighed.
“Welcome toFernando’s One-Man, One-Monologue Stage Spectacular,” she said. He shook water from his curls, pretending to be coyly unaware of how sexy he looked.
“You told me this was an emergency,” he said.
“No, darling, I said it was a performance by anemergingartist. You misheard. You should get your ears checked.”
He smiled gently, avoiding eye contact. He’d relent eventually.
