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“Of course.” She headed to the locker room. Was Abby’s animosity because she couldn’t say anything kind? No. She’d never seen the kitchen so chaotic. That was a good thing, right?
She stowed her bag, slipped on her heels and headed to the bar. Customers were four deep.
Naomi looked up. “Thank goodness. Any chance you can fill orders until you sing?”
“Sure.” She thought about going back and grabbing her flats, but Naomi and the new bartender looked crazed.
Carolina filled the servers’ drink orders. She couldn’t even hear Ella playing in the background. Would the crowd quiet when she sang?
After filling orders for fifteen minutes, the time she’d allowed for talking to Abby, she headed to the stage.
“Thanks!” Naomi called. “Good luck.”
At least Naomi hadn’t turned against her.
Ella grinned as she walked up and leaned over. “Are you sure you want to change so many songs?”
“Absolutely.” If she sang sappy love songs, she’d cry. That wouldn’t help with tips and she needed money even more now that Mamá needed to be watched 24/7.
She stepped onto the stage. Ella hit the lights and pounded a few chords to quiet the crowd. No success.
“Hello, I’m Carolina Castillo. I’m your entertainment for this evening.”
There was a smattering of applause but most people kept talking or eating.
“I hope you’ve been enjoying the fabulous Ella Blade.”
A few more people clapped. Not a problem. She nodded at Ella. The intro to “What Doesn’t Kill You” broke out. By the time she hit the chorus heads were nodding.
People turned. Diners in the balcony leaned over. And the crowd clapped.
With each song, they were quieter. There was more applause. And more smiles. She stopped for a drink near the end of the set.
Ella waved her over. “This gentleman is celebrating his anniversary with his bride of forty-seven years. He’s wondering if you could sing ‘Blue Moon.’ It was the song playing when he proposed.”
“Absolutely.” She got their names and headed back to her stool. “This song is going out to Teri Sue with thanks for a wonderful forty-seven years from Pete. Happy anniversary.”
She waited for the intro. Would she ever have someone love her so much that they had their own song?
It hadn’t been in the cards for her mother. Why would it happen for her?
Her voice cracked as she sang. Straightening her shoulders, she focused on getting through this song, then she could take a break.
Pete pulled Teri Sue out of her chair and into his arms, dancing in the tight aisle.
The crowd sighed and Carolina barely kept it together. She wanted what they had. Thought she’d had it with Sage.
When the song ended, the crowd clapped. “Let’s hear it for Teri Sue and Pete.”
She stumbled off the stage.
“He gave us a hundred-dollar tip,” Ella whispered.
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
They headed into the locker room.
“They were sweet, weren’t they?” Ella asked.
Carolina nodded. She should get out there and work the crowd, but she needed just a few minutes to herself. She sank onto the bench.
“How’s your mother doing?” Ella asked, sitting next to her.
“Not well.”
Ella wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Let me know if I can watch her for you.”
“Thanks. I will.” But Ella was working more hours at Southern Comforts than she was. “Maybe when you’re back from Hilton Head.”
“I’m there for you.”
She tipped her head on Ella’s shoulder. “Thanks.”
She headed to the bar and topped off her water. A server stopped her. “The group upstairs is hoping you’ll come up.”
“Sure.” Her heels clicked on the wooden staircase.
It had better not be the Fitzgeralds wanting to skewer her for having the audacity to try to earn a living. Luckily, she didn’t recognize anyone.
“Fantastic!” someone called out.
“Thank you.” She aimed her gratitude in the general direction the voice had come from.
“Do you take requests?” a young woman asked.
“I do.” She smiled. “Assuming we know the song.”
“Great.” A different woman handed her a handwritten list.
“Wow.” There must be ten songs on the list. All dedicated to a man or a woman. “I’ll see what I can do.”
She talked, glancing at the titles. Every single request was a love song. Half of them were songs she’d cut earlier. Wasn’t that the story of her life?
At the end of the evening, Ella handed her a wad of cash. “We banked tonight. Those requests are making us money.”
