The Phantom Diaries Read online

  “That’s absolutely fascinating.”

  “Yeah, apparently Roberta tended to get into a bit of trouble and was often sent to her room without supper. And by getting into trouble, I don’t mean anything serious. Just your regular, run of the mill trouble little kids are apt to get into. Only at the orphanage they didn’t really take it too well and they’d lock you up in your room for the slightest transgression.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “As they got older, they both took to stitching and mending the other kids’ clothes and soon the orphanage hired them to do the work on a regular basis. Of course they weren’t paid. All they got in return for the hours they spent hunched over old socks and torn dresses was a piece of fresh fruit every once in a while.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “When they were old enough, they came to America. Over time they went their own ways, but they’ve always kept in touch.”

  “Fascinating.”

  Hmmm, I thought. He certainly wasn’t bringing much to the conversation, or was I rambling too much? I looked at him and his eyes were glued to my lips. Was the story of my mom and Roberta really that fascinating? I hardly thought so.

  “Since they had invented this machine that could transport them from New York to New Orleans in a matter of seconds, they could just bat an eye and be at the other’s side.”

  “Fascinating.”

  Insulted beyond words, I straightened my shoulders and un-kinked my neck with a tense glance to the tables around us. I took one final sip of my café and stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said. Fascinating. Fascinating. Fascinating,” I said, in an ugly mimic of his side of the conversation. “Is that all you can say?”

  He glanced around at the other patrons and I realized I was making a scene. “Please sit down,” he gently requested. While his voice was soft and inviting, the determination in his eyes belied how important it was that I sit again.

  Too angry to be soothed by his calm words, I refused to be intimidated. Owner of the opera house or not, I would not allow him to be so outrageously rude. “I apologize,” I said in a tone that was just as determined as his gaze, “but I have a dinner date and I’ve already allowed myself to run late in order to accommodate you.”

  “Accommodate me?”

  “I won the role of Adelle through hard work and dedication and am presently giving everything I have to the rehearsals. I don’t believe I owe you the story of my life nor my company as you sit there sipping of that tiny thing you call a coffee.”

  “Annette, please calm down.”

  I pulled my jacket off the back of the chair and quickly pulled it on. As I flipped my hair out from under my coat, I saw his eyes dance with amusement. It left me seething all the more. How dare he?

  “The next time you stop to ask a lady to have a cup of coffee with you, learn some manners. Or perhaps expand your vocabulary to include other adjectives. It would make your attempt to feign interest more convincing.”

  “You’re misunderstanding me terribly and I would love nothing more than another opportunity to show you just how sorry I am. You’re right, I’ve acted dreadfully.”

  “You sure have.”

  With a jerking motion that I knew was far from ladylike, I pulled my purse off the chair and swung it onto my shoulder. “And while you’re at it, why don’t you order a real coffee?”

  I stormed out knowing that my last comment was gratuitous and mean. But I was so angry, so outraged, so… argh. Men.

  Chapter 11

  Having wasted precious minutes with Mr. Arrogant, I hurried home to change before rushing out to meet Chace in front of the Met.

  “Wow, don’t you look all fired up,” he said in greeting.

  He seemed happy with my choice of snug jeans and form fitting button down shirt. Of course with the weather getting mighty chilly in the evenings, I’d traded in my leather coat for a warmer woolen one.

  “I’m sorry if I’m a bit late,” I said. I pecked him on the cheek and hooked my arm in his.

  “How was the day for ya?” He hailed a cab and opened the door for me like a true gentleman.

  “Great. Tiring, but great,” I said as I snuggled into the back seat with him.

  “You sure looked great, and sounded great, too. I knew you’d be great for the role.”

  Sensing his discomfort, I looked at him and smile. “It was great.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “I can be so lame sometimes. I just look at you and all vocabulary goes out the window.”

  “That’s not so great,” I teased.

  “Cut it out,” he said with a boyish grin. “Now you’re just mocking me.”

  “Yeah, ‘cause you’re so fun to mock.” I reached for his face and pinched his cheeks together with my index and thumb, squishing his lips into a pout. “I could just imagine what you must have been like when you were five; pouting and sulking in the corner when your mom didn’t let you play with your favorite toy.”

  He reached for my hand and pressed my palm to his lips. “Yeah, but I’ve grown up.” His smile was suddenly wicked and filled with implications.

  Electricity road on a quick path from my palm to my thighs. His lips were soft and his hand over mine warm and gently reassuring.

  “Here you go, love birds,” the cabby called out. “Empire State Building. That’ll be $9.80.”

  After paying the fare, Chace helped me out and guided me through the main doors and to the elevators.

  “Quiet night,” Chace whispered as he glanced around at the lack of the usual tourist crowd. He pulled out the tickets he’d purchased earlier. “We might have the whole place to ourselves.”

  He popped his eyebrows a few times and gave me a crooked grin.

  “We came here to take in the view, Chace,” I said in the most prudish voice I could fake. “Don’t get any funny ideas.”

  “Believe me, right now, my ideas are far from funny.”

  I giggled then hushed up as we got on the elevator.

  We were silent as we rode up with one other couple, but I could tell he was having just as hard a time keeping a giggle in as I was. When the elevator doors opened we scrambled out to the observation deck and rushed to get a view.

  “Look at us,” I said. “We’re acting like two kids who’ve been set to visit the city on their own.”

  He looked at me, his face determined to look serious and in deep thought. “Isn’t that what we are?”

  My laughter filled the night air and I wanted to hold onto this moment forever. I wanted to sing as I looked out over the George Washington Bridge and marveled at the millions of twinkling lights the reflected off its shimmering dark waters below it.

  “Do you think we can see the opera house from here?” I asked.

  “We can see New Jersey, Pennsylvania and more. I think if we walk around we’ll find a glimpse of the opera house.

  After a stunning aerial tour of the city, we headed to a restaurant for a late night dinner.

  The restaurant Chace took me to was surprisingly elegant, even extravagant. “Isn’t this a bit too much?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He seemed intent on making the night a special one. “Once the show opens I’ll probably have little chance to see you. I want to take it while I can.”

  “It?” I cocked the naughtiest brow that I could and showed him a teasing smile.

  He blushed and I once again marveled at the boy inside this man.

  “I mean time with you.”

  “You’re sweet, Chace. How come no one’s swept you up yet?”

  “I guess I’m kinda like a dust bunny. I don’t get swept up easily, I just roll away.”

  My eyes filled with tears of laughter as I brought my hand to my mouth. I gazed at the surrounding patrons who were so quietly conversing over their expensive meals and tried to control myself. “Dust bunny?” I whispered.

  “Well?”

  I smiled, a
nd realized how fun it was to laugh. Despite his intermitting bouts of discomfort when it came to conversations, I enjoyed being with him more than I cared to admit. His gaze held mine and for a moment our smiles lost their childlike amusement. I suddenly wondered if he was being deliberately vague with his answer. Was there something he didn’t want to tell me?

  Breaking the sudden spell of uncomfortable silence, Chace pulled out a small blue box and set it on the table. “I got you a little something.”

  “Chace, that’s silly. I don’t want you to get me anything.”

  “I’m really happy for the great life that’s opening up for you and I wanted to give you a reminder of how special I think you are.”

  “You’re too sweet, Chace.” Excited, I reached for the box and pulled the white ribbon off. I glanced at him before he pulled the top off and noticed the agitated bite of his bottom lip. Did he really think that I wouldn’t love anything he got me?

  I opened the box, lifted the thin veil of cotton and found a darling little silver charm bracelet. “Chace,” I muttered in disbelief. “This is beautiful.”

  “There’s only one charm,” he explained.

  Wrapping my fingers around the bracelet, I pulled it out to let a solitary, silver musical note dangle in the candlelight. “The middle C,” I teased.

  “You like it?”

  “I love it. It’s perfect.” I handed it to him. “Will you put it on for me?”

  His fingers struggled with the small clasp then shook nervously as he wrapped it around my wrist. I waited patiently as he dropped the clasp and began again. His fingertips tickled my skin as he worked on getting the bracelet secure.

  “There,” he finally said.

  “It’s gorgeous.”

  “It sure looks great on you.”

  Reaching for his hand, I gazed at him and smiled teasingly. “It is great.”

  He walked me home, and while a few blocks were in silence, it was a soothing and comfortable silence. I could feel the musical note tickle my palm with every step and it filled me with a reassuring sense of security. Without thinking, I reached for the ruby cross at my neck.

  Trickling through the sense of security these items brought me was an underlying sense of foreboding. I smiled as Chace took my hand and I tried to push the uneasy sensations away to concentrate on the sensation of his hand over mine.

  He was strong and I sensed he’d give the world to protect me.

  My apartment building came all too soon and I was reluctant to let him go. “I really had a great time tonight, Chace.”

  “Great?” he said, mocking our continuous use of the word. He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around my waist. “There’s no fighting it. I guess we’re just great together.”

  My laughter was tinged with too many emotions. I didn’t want him to leave, but I wasn’t sure I wanted him to come up either. “Do you want to come in and warm up before heading home?”

  That naughty smile returned and my legs felt suddenly useless. “I think we both know where that’ll lead and I think we both know we’re not ready to go there, so no. I’ll warm up walking home.”

  He made no move to walk away and I felt a slight tug at the small of my back. Pressed up closed to him, I leaned up to kiss him. He held back and I could feel the longing he kept in check. His breathing was suddenly strained and his hands tightened and released me repetitively.

  I raked my fingers though his hair and pulled his lips more tightly to mine. He surrendered and gave his mouth entirely to me. Warm, moist and flavored with just enough urgency, his kisses made the world around us disappear.

  When he pulled away, I stumbled forward, wanting more. My eyes tried to focus on him as my mind was still caught up in the sensations that had filled my mouth.

  “I better go before we get arrested for public indecency.”

  “Chace…” I wasn’t ready to see him go.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Annette.” He turned and walked away, leaving me cold and hungry.

  Only when I could no longer see him did I turn to go in. On the ride up to the sixth floor I examined my reflection in the tinted mirrors of the elevator. My lips were red, raw and full from the heavy kisses. I could still taste him. I looked into my eyes trying to figure out who this new woman was.

  The doors opened and I was startled when Mrs. Weinstein from down the hall got in. She eyed me strangely, said a forced but friendly good evening, and I got out and headed to my door.

  Before I’d even swung the door open, I knew he was there. I flicked on the light switch and saw him standing by the window; the window that gave a perfect view of the front entrance to the building.

  “How do you get in here?” I asked, trying to sound annoyed.

  Remaining silent, he brought his fingertips to the pane of glass as though seeking to grasp something. They remained there a long moment before trailing slowly down the glass.

  “Do you have a key?”

  Still ignoring my questions, he turned to face me. His gaze was hard and betrayed what he’d seen down on the sidewalk. “I believe they’re working you too hard during rehearsals.”

  Struck dumb, I stared at him and tried to catch up with his line of thought.

  “You’re going to overwork your voice before the show even begins.”

  “It was the first day. I guess they wanted to get as much in as possible.”

  “Tomorrow, you’ll tell them to tone back the number of hours you’re to sing.”

  “Eric, I can’t tell the director how to run his rehearsals. We’re already behind and everyone is anxious to get started.”

  Anger creased his brow and fisted his hands. “There will be no show if you wear your voice out,” he shouted.

  Though he made no move to approach me, I felt the urge to back away. “I’ll… I’ll talk to him before starting tomorrow. I just don’t know what he’ll say.”

  His gaze softened and his features relaxed.

  Features… all his features.

  So shocked by his presence in my apartment, I’d not even realized he no longer had his mask. My dream. The dream of my night… with him… taking off his mask.

  “I’m sure you’ll find a way to convince him.” he said.

  The story he told me about his childhood… the night in his arms… the… oh, my God.

  “Fear of losing the show should be enough to make him see the sense in giving you some slack.”

  He’d held me… all night. I’d touched him… his face… so soft… so beautiful.

  “It wasn’t a dream,” I said as I took a few steps to stand before him. Mesmerized by the face that harbored so much pain, I reached out to touch his cheek.

  In an instant, his eyes glared with hatred at the charm on my wrist. With force akin to savage, he grabbed my wrist before my fingers could touch him. He glanced at me, barely disguising the question in his eyes. But with the quick switch of emotions he seemed so talented at, he smiled, and fingered the musical note.

  “A gift from your violinist friend, I take it?” His tone was frighteningly sweet.

  “Yes.” The word almost choked me.

  “The same violinist who was ramming his tongue down your throat just moments ago?” His eyes veiled with disdain.

  Not trusting my voice, I nodded.

  He chuckled; an unpleasant sound. “The same violinist who kept you out late last night?”

  He knew the answer. There was no point in answering.

  “What an adorable pair you two make; the leading lady and her first chair.” A sardonic snicker echoed in my small apartment. “How convenient to be paired with someone you work with.”

  “Eric… I…”

  “Do you love him?” For a brief moment, his gaze dipped down to the floor and I knew how difficult the question was for him.

  I shook my head. “I only met him a few weeks ago… at the same time that I met…”

  “And what passions does he evoke in you. How deep does your passion for him run?”


  “You’re the one who awoke my passion, Eric. You’re the one who pulled me in and warmed me up only to push me away.”

  He pushed angry fingers through his hair and turned away only to return his gaze to me with a fresh wave of pained emotions. In two long strides he was standing before me, pulling me into his arms and placing my hand to his heart.

  “Do you know what you do to me?”

  Through the thin fabric of his shirt, I could feel the strength hidden there. And beneath all the power he had, his heart. It thundered violently.

  His eyes skimmed over my lips, my cheeks and he held my gaze for a second before returning to my lips. “The passion I feel for you is more than you’re prepared for.”

  “How would you know?” I challenged.

  He inhaled deeply and his eyes showed his restraint.

  “How would you know,” I repeated. With my fingers clamped to the nape of his neck, I pulled him to me and kissed him with all the passion I’d previously held back. His lips parted, hesitantly at first, then with increased desire. Our tongues tasted each other’s breath and wanted more. I clung to him, pressed my breasts to his chest and groaned with the anticipation of getting closer yet.

  When he swept me into his arms, I released his mouth and worked my lips across his jaw to his ear and down to the tender skin of his neck. He settled me onto the bed and laid the length of his body over mine. My mind went numb as only the sensations of the moment took hold.

  I knew. Now I knew. No doubts, no questions, no hesitation. I wanted him. I longed to feel every inch of his skin. Blinded by the desire to get closer, I tugged and tore at his shirt until his chest was bare.

  Perfect in every way, I traced a line over the muscles that flexed to keep his weight from smothering me. My hands worked over his shoulders and down his arms, reveling in every ounce of power, every inch of softness.

  “Make love to me, Eric.”

  I leaned up to kiss him, but he pulled back. With a clumsy shuffle, he got off the bed and collected his discarded shirt.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “You’ve got an early rehearsal tomorrow.” With strides that were too strong and forceful for a man who’d been in the throws of passion only seconds earlier, he headed for the door.