Method Acting: An opposites attract, found family romance (Center Stage Book 2) by Adele Buck (web based ebook reader txt) 📕

“Yeah. No. That’s stalker territory.” Russell frowned, staring at nothing.

“But…” Almost against his will, Colin felt his lips curling up in a smile.

“Yes?”

“She told me she sings every Sunday night at Club Zanzibar.”

Russell’s face split in a wide grin. “Need a wingman?”

Chapter 3

Alicia bowed as applause rang out through the club. Standing and tossing her hair out of her eyes, she said, “Thank you. Pat and I really appreciate you being here on a school night.” She tilted her head as a low chuckle ran through the room and continued. “This is going to be our last song for this evening. We’re here every Sunday, though, so if you like what you hear, please come back and bring your friends.”

Looking at her tuxedoed accompanist, Alicia nodded. Pat’s fingers ran briskly over the keyboard with the first few chords of The Girl from Ipanema. It was a bit of a trick, using this as her closer. This song got people jazzed, making them want more. Well, she was ready for that too.

Alicia’s eyes scanned the crowd as she sang. The lights illuminating the tiny stage had finally dimmed a bit, so she could see past the first few tables into the club. A waitress stopping at one table caught her eye as Alicia deepened her breath, getting ready for the run at the end of the chorus.

Her voice almost broke on the next part about giving her heart gladly. That guy. The lobbyist from last weekend’s donor party. He was sitting at a table toward the back of the club, his large, dark eyes fixed on her, a handsome Black man next to him.

Fuck. She strove for the sorrow she usually invested in the next lyrics about looking straight ahead and walking to the sea, but they came out almost defiantly instead.

Alicia finished out the song with its repetitions of, “And she doesn’t see…” determinedly looking at anyone but That Guy. The applause that met the end of this song was the loudest of the night, and Alicia bowed deeply, standing with a flourish and throwing out her hand to include Pat in the accolades. The applause only intensified, whistles and some stomping punctuating the pounding of hands. Half the room was standing.

Bringing the microphone back to her mouth, Alicia waved a hand. “Okay. Just one more,” she said, as if making a concession. She glanced at Pat, who nodded at her and started playing, one corner of her mouth quirking up. Pat hadn’t been convinced that this was the right end to the set, unconvinced that it would trigger an encore, but she had lost the ten dollars she bet Alicia that it wouldn’t work.

Pat hit the opening chords to The Party’s Over. This song was perfectly suited to the comfortable part of Alicia’s dark, alto voice. She snuck another look at the table with That Guy.

“Okay.” Russell’s breath tickled Colin’s ear, and he reared his head away from his friend. “I thought you said this woman was ‘attractive.’”

“What, you don’t think so?” Colin said, surprised, his eyes darting back to the stage. Alicia’s clinging black top glittered in the stage lights and her face was alight as she sang. The sight made Colin’s breath snag in his throat.

“Col, she’s a fucking knockout. You have a talent for understatement.”

“It’s a British thing,” Colin said. “Perhaps I should have said that she’s rather beautiful.”

“Hush, let the rather beautiful lady sing.” Russell admonished him with a wink.

Colin let his eyes settle on Alicia’s slim form again. She had spent much of the set making eye contact with various members of the audience, mostly up front. He assumed that was as far as she could see with the stage lights in her eyes. When the lights had dimmed for the last number, he thought she might have seen him, but he couldn’t be sure. Her voice was surprisingly deep and smoky as it wended its way through the last of the melancholy lyrics, rising to an unexpected high note at the conclusion of the song.

A hushed pause hung in the air as the last notes from the piano faded away and Alicia stood with the microphone still poised at her lips, eyes fixed over the heads of the audience as if she could see something far in the distance. Then the room erupted and she bowed again, settling the microphone with finality into its stand with a wave and walking over to say something to the accompanist, silky black trousers swirling around her legs as she moved.

The crowd milled, some moving toward the exits, others settling back into their seats for one more drink. “So, you brave enough to try again with this woman?” Russell said, leaning back in his chair.

“What do you mean, ‘brave’?” Colin asked, annoyed.

Russell waved a hand at the stage where Alicia was laughing at something. Her accompanist was grinning wryly and gathering sheet music together. “She’s beautiful, she’s talented…”

“What’s your point?”

Russell continued as if he hadn’t heard Colin speak. “…She’s poised, she’s funny. I’m just saying she’s clearly out of your league. Maybe you should be my wingman.”

“Says the man who can only do eight reps at my top weight on the bench press.” Colin’s teeth gritted together as he glared at his friend.

“Bench press isn’t everything, my friend. There’s also charm. Real charm. Not just leaning on an accent. Something you could stand to learn a thing or two about.” Russell picked up his glass and swirled the remaining bourbon in it, ice clinking.

The sultry voice that had fixed his attention all evening was suddenly in his ear. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. ‘Are Actresses Ever Honest?’”

That Guy’s head whipped around, and his lips tightened in annoyance. “Usually I prefer ‘Colin,’ but I will defer to the lady’s choice.”

Alicia’s heart beat a rapid tattoo as she watched him rise from his seat. She affected a casual attitude, wondering why she had