The Phantom Diaries Read online

  By intermission, I was riding on a cloud of glory. The show was going off with the perfection few opening nights of any show could boast of. When I sang the last note, I knew I had the hard to impress crowd impressed. I could see the emotion I was displaying reflect in the faces of the men and women in the first few rows.

  The spontaneity with which everyone jumped to their feet was astonishing and I felt a sense of pride as I’d rarely felt before. My only regret was my mother who’d not be able to make it for the opening. I remained hopeful that she’d free herself some time soon.

  Chace smiled at me, his happiness for me radiating throughout his beaming face. He stood, his eyes still on me as he began to applaud, but the crowd turned their attention to him and offered an ovation that soon had him blushing.

  I bowed one last time, the curtain closed and I headed off towards my dressing room.

  “Annette,” Chace called.

  Though happy to see him, I longed to retreat to my private room in order to drink it all in. “Chace, what a night.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

  “My parents made it after all and I wanted them to meet you.”

  “Sure.” I glanced at the lovely woman and formally dressed man and smiled as Chace made the introductions.

  After warm handshakes and a quick hug from his mother, Chace leaned in close to kiss my cheek and say, “I’ll go out and make sure they’re able to get a cab back to their hotel then I’ll come back in a bit to see you in your dressing room. I’ve missed you. These past weeks have been so hectic, I’ve only seen you when I peer at you from the depths of my pit and I look forward to spending some real time with you.”

  “I know. It’s been crazy. I’m surprised I made it through it all.”

  “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  ***

  From the top balcony, Eric stood watching the opera house slowly empty of its satisfied spectators. Annette had been even more splendid than he’d hoped for and he’d not been able to tear his eyes off her the entire show.

  The époque costumes suited her, flattered her and gave her the aristocratic air she deserved. Her expansive wardrobe also reminded Eric of the similarity between Kristine and Annette. He tried to deny it; tried to look past it. But it was there; in the shimmering locks of hair that dangled from her up do, the gentle blush on her high cheekbones and the daring gleam in her eye.

  Every note that had rang out had been a painful reminder of the love he’d had for Kristine and a surprising degree of longing returned to bring back his heartache. But the longing he held was strongly aimed at Annette. The sudden need to be at her side, to share in her joy was undeniable. He needed to find himself in her midst.

  With the crowd adequately dispersed, he headed down to the casts’ dressing rooms. The halls were clogged with fans and people eager to tell Annette of their appreciation of her performance. She was flushed by all the compliments and attention, but she carried herself well.

  Polite and welcoming, she greeted everyone and even signed several autographs as dozen upon dozen of blood red roses were collected from her arms and set inside her dressing room.

  A man stayed close to her side. It took a few moments for Eric to realize that this elegantly dressed man had his arm draped over Annette’s shoulder in a rather possessive manner. His smile was calculated and his handshakes to the many fans was practiced and read false.

  But beyond all this, it was the man’s face that so disturbed Eric. Though he was dressed in modern clothes and his hair had a fashionable cut, his resemblance to Eric’s nemesis was difficult to overlook. The eyes, the lips; and when the man finally spoke, Eric knew he was not mistaken.

  The tone, rich and self assured, was exactly the same as Rupert Aragon. There was no mistaken it. The impossibility was outrageous and he had to listen a few moments more to assure he was hearing right.

  Here he was – New York City, 2009, the Metropolitan Opera House, yet he was facing Kristine and Rupert, just as surely as if it was 1881. The intensity of the jealousy he’d felt back then came back to fill him with rage. His fingers struggled to remain lax, despite the desperate desire to clench.

  Annette glanced up and caught sight of him through the throngs. Her smile was reluctant, unsure and slow to come. But when it spread across her face, her eyes gleamed with pride and an eagerness to see him. She wiggled out of Aaron’s hold and pressed through the people to where he stood.

  ***

  When I finally reached the spot where I’d seen Eric, he’d disappeared. I continued through the corridor a little further and could see no sign of him. He’d vanished as he seemed so apt to do. My success and victory was partially his and I wanted him to know it and to revel in all the accolades. Why would he run away during this moment of triumph?

  “Annette,” Aaron called from behind me. I erased any concern I might have had about Eric’s disappearance from my face and turned to Aaron.

  His eyes were veiled and perplexed, but he didn’t question my sudden departure from the crowd. “I have a few people here who would like to meet you.”

  The crowd moved in unison as Aaron guided them all to the vast lobby. A large number of photos were taken; many of me alone, several with the cast and a few with Aaron.

  When the rounds had been made and people started to sift away, I leaned into Aaron. “I’m going to head back to my dressing room to get out of this thing. I’ll meet you back here in a few minutes.”

  “Wonderful,” he said with a sure smile. “I’ll be here.”

  I found my dressing room overflowing with red roses. Taking a few moments to read the cards, I was pleased by the kind words of all who’d appreciated my performance. But the large majority of the flowers were from Aaron and I couldn’t help but smile at his romantic consideration. He always made the effort to show me just how much he thought of me and I couldn’t help but think that he was the sweetest man I’d ever met.

  Just as that thought came to me, I thought of Chace. He’d mentioned coming back to my dressing room to see me and I wondered if he’d changed his mind. Perhaps sending his parents on their way had proved more complicated than he’d hoped.

  A note was clipped to the corner of my mirror and I knew it had to be Chace. Maybe he’d come while I was out in the lobby and we’d simply missed each other. Smiling, I reached for the note, eager to see what he had planned.

  On seeing the penmanship, I immediately knew it wasn’t Chace. The writing was a crude attempt at elegance.

  My Dearest Annette,

  You’ve surpassed my highest expectations and I can barely put into words the great pride I feel. I apologize for my sudden disappearance, but the circumstances were unbearable.

  Your resemblance to Kristine is overwhelming and at times painful to deal with. Seeing you tonight with a man I’m certain is the direct descendent of a troublesome man, I cannot even begin to express the anger and rage that coursed through me.

  I must not ignore the rage this man conjures up in me and must, therefore, find a way to keep far from you.

  Please understand my desire to keep the peace in what is indeed a victorious moment for you.

  Eric

  I re-read the letter three times, still unable to believe what he was saying. A quick knock on the door had me shoving the note under a vase of flowers.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late getting back,” Chace said. He closed the door behind him and rushed to sweep me into his arms. His kisses were friendly at first, but took on an urgency within a matter of seconds. His arms wrapped around me and held me so tight, I had to gasp for breath. “I’ve missed you so much, Annette. I can’t even remember the last time we were alone together. I miss talking to you and just sitting down quietly with you.”

  “I’m sorry, Chace. You’ve been so patient and I appreciate it.” I pulled away enough to look into his eyes. My hands pressed flat against his chest and I could feel his heart pound. “Things should settle down now and…”

  A lo
ud knock sounded at the door and I barely had time to pull away from Chace before the door flew open.

  Aaron glanced at me, increasing the flushed sensation I had on my face. Narrowed and dark, his gaze went to Chace and quickly returned to me. The animosity was thick, but confusing. Why should he be so angry that Chace was here with me? But it was clear that he was.

  Aaron cleared his throat, took on a professional air and addressed Chace. “Forgive my intrusion. I won’t be long.” He turned to me, his gaze solemn. “Mr. and Mrs. Bird are waiting, Annette. I don’t want to rush you, but they are incredibly important in the art world and I would hate to keep them waiting much longer.”

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” I said, somehow managing to keep the shakiness I felt out of my voice.

  With a curt nod at Chace, Aaron backed out of the room. No doubt he would be waiting to see Chace exit the room.

  “He’s still taking you out to dinner?”

  “He knows important people, Chace. I don’t understand all of the implications of meeting these various people, but I have to trust that Aaron knows what he’s doing.”

  Chace said nothing, but his clenched jaw spoke volumes. He was angry, irritated and growing impatient, and I couldn’t blame him.

  “This was the opening night, Chace. I’m sure that after a week’s run things will quiet down. I should then have all the free time I want. We’ll see each other then, okay? I promise.”

  “You don’t have to apologize. You’re the star of the show; everyone wants a piece of you. And you certainly don’t have to make me any promises.”

  Aaron gave us a warning knock at the door, urging us to get a move on.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Chace.”

  His shoulders were visibly low and slumped, though he tried to hide the extent to which I was hurting him with a feeble smile. “See ya,” he muttered on his way out.

  Once alone I hurried into my street clothes and rushed out to face Aaron. He was all smiles, as though the incident with Chace had never happened.

  Far from reassuring me, his sudden calm left me wondering when the storm would hit.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Bird will meet us at the restaurant. They were no longer willing to wait.”

  “I’m sorry, Aaron. I didn’t mean to take so long.”

  “Don’t worry about it. The star of a successful show is allowed to take all the time in the world. Although, I must admit that seeing my dear Annette flushed in the company of a violinist, even though he is first chair, is a bit disconcerting.”

  My dear Annette, I repeated in my head. Was he as possessive as that sounded or was it just a manner of speech?

  “And here is your chariot, my dear.” He gestured toward a white, long stretch limousine that seemed to go on and on.

  “Aaron! Really?” I knew it sounded silly, but I couldn’t resist gushing. “I’ve never been in a limousine before.”

  “Well, it’s about time you were.”

  The chauffeur, complete with spiffy suit and white gloves, opened the door and I got in. I’d never seen anything like it. Mirrors, glass, soft leather and thick carpeting. Everything reeked of wealth and luxury.

  When Aaron shuffled in behind her and settled in, he immediately popped open a bottle of champagne and served her a glass.

  “First class all the way from now on,” he toasted.

  We chatted softly about the success of the show and soon we were pulling up to one of the most posh and exclusive restaurants in town.

  However, as we entered, the maitre d’ informed us that Mr. and Mrs. Bird had not arrived.

  “Perhaps they’ve caught a snag,” Aaron brushed off. Unperturbed, he pulled a chair back for me and, like a true gentleman, pushed it in behind me as I was seated. The table was elegantly set with fine crystal, silver and china.

  Dinner was a sumptuous affair that left me gagging at the mere thought of how much all this was going to cost. Aaron ordered fine wine and the delectable meal was topped off with a tempting dessert.

  “A true feast for a true star,” he said.

  “Well, just make sure your star doesn’t end up unable to fit into her suffocating wardrobe.”

  Having signed the meal off to a credit card, he rose and stepped behind me to pull my chair back. “Then I’ll have to take you on a stroll that will lead us to the pier where we can catch a harbor cruise.”

  Our quiet stroll soon had us walking hand in hand. It was a platonic enough gesture as we navigated our way through the crowds. Once on board, Aaron opened up and let me know how he’d come to be in New York.

  “When Rupert, my great-grandfather came here, he brought along his love of the opera and left behind a scandal that had almost ruined him. France was a veritable hellhole after the scandal hit. Kristine, his lover, made it impossible for him to just overlook everything that was happening. But out here, he put that all behind him and started everything anew. He met a beautiful socialite whose family owned many theatres in New York and he soon came to be in charge of a number of them; not only in the city but across a great portion of the east coast.”

  “I see where you get your business sense.”

  “It certainly runs deep. No doubt there was an aria filling the birthing room when I was born. Unfortunately, as an only child, I had no one to share the great responsibilities with. I have to admit that I’ve grown a bit weary. The need to broaden my horizons and to work on my personal life has become more important these past years.”

  “You certainly do appear to keep yourself very busy. So many people seem to want to be around you.”

  “Well, those people all want something from me. It’s exhausting really. Sure I try to play the public figure the job requires of me, but sometimes I wish I could just go home to someone special. Someone I could just spend some quality time with, alone and away from all the lights.” He leaned in close to me and held an intimate gaze to my startled eyes.

  Our relationship had always had a reassuring platonic tone to it and I was unsure whether I wanted that to change or not. He was my boss, my employer and any kind of romantic liaisons would surely be frowned upon.

  He seemed unconcerned with that as he leaned closer and brushed his lips across mine. His kiss was gentle and unrushed. Unlike the urgency of Chace’s kiss, or the all-consuming passion of Eric’s. Aaron’s lips touched mine with confidence and self-assuredness. His hand pressed lightly to the small of my back, bringing me closer to him, but the touch was light and I was surprised by the scant amount of pressure that was needed to bring me pressing against his chest.

  A cool breeze blew through my hair and rustled my coat, but the heat of his lips filled my mind. I felt I was finally home; safe, warm and secure. The strength of his arms enveloped me and I never wanted to leave.

  But then his mention of Kristine came to my mind with a clarity that was jarring. Eric had mentioned his love for a woman named Kristine, the woman he’d nearly gone mad for. The coincidence of it all seemed so unlikely. But Aaron was talking about something that had happened in the 19th century. It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with Eric today.

  Chapter 15

  December 17th, 2009

  Dear Diary,

  The night ended late and getting up this morning was difficult. I enjoyed the harbor cruise immensely and Aaron then walked me home. It was an enchanted evening that ended with an unexpected proposition. As we arrived at my building, I was sure Aaron would ask to come up. Like the true gentleman that he is, he didn’t.

  However, just as he was turning away to leave me he whispered something into my ear. I’m reluctant to even write it, it is so incredible, if not ridiculous. To escape from all the chaos of the last days, he’d like to take me to Paris.

  Leaning against the wall of my building, I’d looked at Aaron in disbelief. Paris; the thought was at once romantic, fantastical, frightening and intimidating.

  “We can just forget this whole opera business and have a good time. Paris is exquisite this time of y
ear.”

  I had to smile at the notion. Winter in Paris. It must be delightful. But leaving the opera. It was ludicrous.

  “My family is still in or around Paris and they would be enchanted to meet you.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed Mr. Aragon, my show is a hit and it is sold out for weeks to come. There will be no free time for this songstress.”

  He leaned in close, his eyes naughty, his lips proud. “Haven’t you heard? Aaron is crazy about Annette.”

  “I think Aaron is just plain crazy.” I called over my shoulder after I wiggled away from him and headed to the door.

  It had been pleasant and fun. Thoughts of Paris had stayed with me through the night and I had to admit a part of me was very tempted by the idea.

  But as nice as the whole evening had been, thoughts of Eric also continually returned to haunt me. I felt an incredible need to find him and talk everything out. His note had disturbed me and left me wanting to know more; more about my resemblance to Kristine and more about Aaron’s resemblance to a long ago nemesis of Eric’s.

  Aaron’s great-grandfather was Rupert Aragon, I mused. He’d started the Paris Opera House in 1875. Kristine was to sing at that very opera house a few years later. She then broke Eric’s heart. My God. It didn’t make any sense.

  ***

  With no rehearsals set for the day, I had plenty of time to go in search of Eric before I was needed for hair and make up for the night’s performance. I got into my jeans, pulled on an old, but warm sweater and squeezed my feet into my black boots. Once I managed to find a trusty flashlight, I headed across the street to the Met, and down to the tunnels Eric had so often guided me through.

  I thought I’d become more familiar with these darkened tunnels, but apparently hadn’t been paying much attention. I’d simply followed Eric without taking proper note of this turn and that one. After two hours of flashing my light onto the wall of countless dead ends, I gave up and headed up to the Met.