Love in a Nutshell - Janet Evanovich [32]
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DEENA BOWEN was truly psycho.
“You cheated,” Deena said.
“How could I cheat? Marcie drew the numbers,” Kate replied.
“You came in here earlier and rigged it.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because everybody’s out to beat me. But just because you get to sing first doesn’t mean you’re going to win. It doesn’t give you any advantage,” Deena said.
“Another good reason I wouldn’t come in and play with a bunch of bingo balls, don’t you think?”
Deena’s hostility aside, Kate was looking forward to getting this first number done. She hadn’t sung in front of strangers since she was sixteen, and the idea of doing it now had her a little rattled. And the idea of having Matt judge her was even more uncomfortable.
“Ready?” Marcie asked.
Kate nodded. Because her mouth was as dry as the dunes overlooking Lake Michigan, she poked her head out from the far side of the jungle screen and signaled Ella for the punch. Kate chugged half and winced. The concoction was so sweet that she swore her blood had just turned to syrup.
Ella gave her a weird look as she took back the cup.
“What?” Kate asked.
“You feel okay?”
“Nervous, and now probably borderline diabetic.”
Ella waggled the cup. “That’s okay. You won’t be feeling anything very soon.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is trash-can punch. Beneath all that sugar is enough overproof rum to pickle a sailor. All I can say is good thing I drove.”
“Thanks for sharing. If I’d known about the punch, I’d have started drinking earlier.”
“Kate,” Marcie said. “Curtain time.”
Except for the crucial lack of a curtain.
Palms clammy and heart slamming, Kate stepped out from behind the latticework jungle and walked tentatively to the microphone. She allowed herself a glance toward Matt, then wished she hadn’t. As surprise and then pleasure paraded across his face, Kate had to quell a truly chicken-feathered urge to jump from the stage and chug the rest of that overproof courage. But if this was what it took to be initiated into Keene’s Harbor, no way was she going to back down.
“I’m going to give you a little ‘Crimson and Clover’ … Joan Jett style,” she said into the microphone.
Kate didn’t care that half of the hall still talked and laughed as the music started. All that mattered was reaching the end of the song. She hadn’t lied when she’d told Ella she hadn’t been singing, but more than the chilly shower had been stopping her. In the space of one year, she’d lost her marriage, her home, her dog, and her job. She wasn’t exactly depressed, but she was just flat-out busy trying to rebuild her life and her identity. Most of the time, she just felt too tired to sing.
But as she eased into the song, Kate recalled one cool thing about singing. When singing, she didn’t have to be Kate of the somewhat screwed-up life. She became whatever character she chose to take on. And tonight, she chose to be a rocker seductress.
Kate let herself go with the song’s sensual sway and began to kick out the lyrics with conviction. This wasn’t about winning Bambi meat or even town approval. It was about living in this moment. It was about feeling the slow, sexual surge that made her grip the microphone stand with both hands and make love to the crowd.
When the song finished, Kate dropped her gaze to the plywood stage and blew out a sigh of relief. She was fairly certain she hadn’t sucked. Except the hall remained weirdly silent. Okay, maybe she was delusional. Maybe she really had sucked. Just when she was sure that was true, applause and a couple of whistles and howls kicked in.
Kate smiled at the crowd and said her thanks. Then she caught Matt looking