Page 138 of It Happened on a Sunday
As the crowd laughs and cheers, the band plays the intro to “Come and Flow,” one of my favorite songs by Pauline.
“He’s totally showing up backstage,” Sly whispers in my ear.
“Like you wouldn’t.” I laugh as he gives me atouchésort of look.
My mentor’s in incredible form tonight, her rich, dark voice filling up every nook and cranny of the room. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on this side of a performance, and the energy is dizzying. I lean into Sly, who moves so his chest is to my back and wraps his arms around me.
I float through the next couple of songs, dizziness turning into a sweet stupor that makes everything around me feel like it’s moving in thick, syrupy motion.
Pauline finishes two more songs, then turns her attention back to the crowd. “Hold on to those bubbles a little longer for me, will you?” she says to Marquis. “Because I might have asurprise of my own for you lovely people here tonight. As most of you know, my very beloved Sloane Walker is here tonight, on the arm of your very charming, very talented Mateo Sylvester. Where are you, Sloane, baby?”
I’m feeling too relaxed to give her a shout, so Sly does it for me.
“She’s the reason I accepted your owner’s generous invitation to this party, and I’m so glad I did. But as I stand here, I realize it’s been nearly two years since the two of us have shared a stage, and I would very much like to remedy that tonight.”
She bats her long red lashes at the audience. “What do you think? You want Sloane to come up on here and sing a couple of songs with me?”
I only thought the crowd was excited before. The cheers and stomps this time around have the walls shaking and the chandeliers over our heads rattling precariously.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Pauline tells them as she holds out a hand to me. “Come on up here, baby, and let’s give the people what they want.”
“Hell yes!” Sly says as he looks down at me with a huge grin. “You up for it?”
“Of course!” I never turn Pauline down—I love performing with her too much. And she knows it.
Sly comes with me, his hand against my lower back as he guides me through the enthusiastic crowd. I stumble a little on the first step up to the stage, but he’s right there to keep me steady.
“You okay?” He looks a little concerned.
“I’m good,” I tell him, even though the room is spinning just a little. I definitely should have slowed down on that second margarita. “I’m just excited.”
“Come on, Sloane! Hurry those six-inch heels of yours up here, will you!” Pauline calls down to me.
“On my way!” I yell. The words feel fuzzy in my mouth, butbefore I can figure out why, I’m onstage and Pauline is shoving a microphone in my hand.
“What do you say we sing ‘Shame’?” she asks, naming the song we recorded together two years ago.
“Yeah, of course,” I tell her as I take hold of the microphone.
She shoots me a puzzled look as the crowd cheers around us, but then the music is starting and we both lock in.
The lights are really bright, and I have a hard time focusing on anything—Pauline’s voice as she leads off; Sly, who is still standing next to the stairs; the people crowding around the front of the stage. It all feels strange to me, like everything is out of focus. Or maybe I am?
Pauline sings the last line of her verse, and I know I have to join her in the chorus. But the room is spinning faster now and I’m struggling to catch my breath. Still, the show must go on, even when my legs are shaking and my web feels like it’s coming undone. So I take a deep breath and dive into the first line of the chorus.
“Shame is all arou—”
Chapter 60
Sly
I watch in horror as Sloane collapses onstage.
Pauline shouts in alarm and dives to catch her, but Sloane goes down too fast and slams into the stage face-first.
My whole body is numb as I rocket up the stairs, my mind screamingno, no, noas I race to get to her.
“Somebody call an ambulance!” Pauline screams into the mic as she drops to her knees beside Sloane.
