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Ariella looked down at the scribbled name on the paper. “What time is the meeting?”
“He will get word to me tomorrow morning, and I’ll pass the information along to you. Now. Why don’t you get packing while I make a few phone calls and reserve you a room at a hotel. You’ll need to find an apartment eventually, but I think a week’s accommodation is good for now.”
Ariella got up, folding the paper in half.
“Oh! I almost forgot! One second, dear.” Ursa glided into the bedroom. A few moments later came back out with a thick envelope in one hand and another piece of paper and pen in the other.
Ursa put the paper on the table between them and placed the pen on top. “My accountant is going to need a receipt. Just to keep the books all on the up and up.” Ursa pointed to the line at the bottom of what looked like an invoice. Twenty thousand dollars. Her aunt was handing her twenty thousand dollars.
“You need me to sign this?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind. I know it’s all very formal, but otherwise it will beg questions about where so much money went.” Ursa waved her hand through the air while rolling her eyes. “Just sign that you received it, and you’re ready to start your new adventure.”
Ariella picked up the pen, hovering the ballpoint over the line. What if everything fell apart? What if she completely failed and fell right on her face? Would her father forgive her? Would he kick her out and never see her again, or would he let her come back only to be bartered off to the highest bidder?
“What’s wrong, dear?” Ursa asked, her voice dipping slightly.
“Just nervous, I guess. I mean, I could fail completely.” Voicing her worry gave it strength, and the ball in the pit of her stomach grew.
“Fail? You won’t fail! Look at you! You’re so young. You have your beauty and your voice. A few bats of your eyelashes, and you’ll have the audience eating out of the palm of your hand!”
Ariella could use an ounce of the confidence Ursa seemed to have about the situation. But maybe it was time to take the leap. Staying here would only mean more of the same, and her father would shove her down the aisle willingly or not. With a deep breath, she pressed the pen to the paper and scribbled her name.
“There,” Ariella announced.
“Wonderful.” Ursa picked up the paper, glanced at the signature, then folded it in three and slid it into her pocket.
Ariella stood from the couch.
“Here’s the money. There’s a train leaving first thing in the morning. Probably best to be on it. Otherwise, one of your father’s men might notice you leaving.”
“Right.” Ariella nodded. Had she agreed to this? Was she really going to do this?
Ursa handed her the thick envelope.
“You’ll be fine,” Ursa assured her with a pat on the shoulder as she led Ariella to the door. Ursa opened the door and gestured toward the hallway. “I have every faith in you, Ariella. You’ll be singing on the best stages. I just know it.”
Arielle stared at her aunt, at the confidence in her smile, the firmness of her jaw. This woman believed in her. It had been forever since someone did. The feeling swelled her heart.
“Oh. And one more thing. It’s a silly thing, really, but Ares loves his privacy. So, don’t ask any questions when you meet with him.”
“Oh. Okay.” Ariella nodded; she wasn’t looking for any long conversations either. It was really a simple thing her aunt asked; getting too involved or starting to snoop around would just be rude.
“Good. Now, I’ll text you tomorrow afternoon about the time to meet him, and once you receive the package from him, just text me back so I know it’s all taken care of. Then if any of your father’s men start asking about you, I’ll keep your secret safely locked up.” Ursa said, gently pushing her hand on Ariella’s back to lead her out.
“Thank you so much, Aunt Ursa.” Once in the hallway, Ariella looked down at the paper in one hand and the envelope in the other. This was the beginning of an amazing adventure.
She’d bet her life on it.
CHAPTER5
Ariella
* * *
Ariella stoodin the entranceway of Notes, the club where she’d been told to meet Ares, in awe of the grandeur. It was almost like stepping into one of her grandmother’s photo albums. She’d expected to find a dance club like most others in this part of town. But this club had an actual stage, with a real microphone stand and a spotlight. A deep purple velvet curtain draped across the backdrop. The audience sat at small tables with little oil lamps, keeping the lighting a soft golden glow. It was exactly what she pictured when her mother had told her stories of her grandmother singing before her grandfather had married her.
“Would you like a table? There’s an opening near the stage.” The hostess, a pretty woman with thick curls framing her face, stepped up to Ariella.
