Read Online Stage Fright (Bit Parts) by Michelle Scott - Free Book Online

could never match anything created by the Stuyvesants.”
    Victor’s hard stare could have cut glass.  “The Stuyvesants are too busy running their businesses to waste time doodling with crayons.”  He glanced at Hedda.  “We leave that to the lower castes.”
    “What’s a financial empire without soul?” Hedda asked lightly.
    “Business is what matters,” Victor said.  “Because business creates money, and money is what sustains life.  With enough money, you can buy anything.  Even souls.”
    My sister busied herself with lighting the Sterno cans under the chafing dishes, but I could tell that she was listening intently.  She had graduated from college determined to be an artist, but after a while, the lack of good-paying jobs and my parents’ pressuring had convinced her to go into catering.
    Luquin blinked his empty eyes.  “Money can’t buy happiness.”
    “And art can’t put a roof over your head.” Victor fired back.  “Artists don’t generate enough capital to support themselves, so they crawl to the rich looking for handouts.”
    I couldn’t keep my peace any longer.  “Art is important,” I argued.  “It gives as much to its audience as it does to the person who created it.”  I pointed at Victor with a salad tongs.  “Besides, aren’t you a playwright?”
    Victor’s glare was so sharp I felt as though a freshly honed razorblade had been sliced across my eyeballs.  But amusement danced in Hedda’s violet eyes.
     
    Contrary to what Geoffrey originally said, Hedda informed us that dinner should not be served until after the unveiling of the new exhibit.  The guests who arrived early milled around, drinking glasses of chardonnay and admiring Luquin’s other work.
    Elena stared moodily over the crowd with her arms folded over her chest.  “I can’t keep this food hot forever,” she muttered.  The chicken was drying out, and the rolls were growing soggy.
    Another ten minutes ticked by.  As we continued to wait, I noticed two types of people in the crowd.  Most were fidgety and kept looking at their watches or wistfully eyeing the covered trays on the buffet table.  The others maintained perfectly deadpan expressions and stood so still they might have been modeling for the artist.  This group also dressed with more flair.  One woman wore a blue dress of such boxy proportions that she seemed to have dressed in Lego blocks.  Another couple – a man and a woman – wore identical tuxedos complete with top hats, tails, and enormous, pink bowties.  Others wore fanciful half-masks of animals or jesters.
    “Do you notice that some of these people are a little odd?” I whispered to Elena.
    “Not really.”  She’d gone back to checking on the food.  When one of the Sterno cans sputtered and went out, she swore under her breath.  “I already used up the extras I brought.  Did you take any along?”
    “No, but I can get one from the van if you want.”  Elena nodded and handed me the keys.
    I went to the lobby and hit the call button for the elevator.  When it arrived, the doors parted like stage curtains to reveal a giant of a man with dark skin and dreadlocks.
    I froze.  My midnight rescuer!  In the well-lit elevator, he looked twice as handsome as he had at the Lamplighter.  The proud forehead, the sensuous lips, his perfect jaw, all of it came together in a single, flawless form.  Tonight, his look was business casual with a touch of boho: jeans, an un-tucked white shirt, and a blazer.  Once again, the silver ring winked from high up in his ear.
    When he exited the elevator, I realized I’d overlooked his most amazing feature the night before: his eyes.  They were amber flecked with gold.  When those eyes met mine, pleasant shivers ran down my spine.
    If he recognized me, he didn’t show it.  “Did I miss the unveiling?” he asked.  The timbre of his voice was so deep I swore it made the floorboards tremble.
    “No.  Not yet.”
    He thanked me and