‘To a successful opening night?’ Gina suggested.
‘Yes … And to love.’
‘Love?’ Gina felt a blush spring to her cheeks.
‘We don’t want a toast to tragedy,’ Marco teased.
‘No, of course not,’ Gina agreed, feeling wrong-footed. ‘Let’s toast those invisible people backstage; the ones who create the magic.’
‘Yes, people like you and me,’ Marco grinned at Gina. ‘So, a toast to us then.’ Marco held her gaze as they clinked glasses, but Gina looked away. She was beginning to feel light-headed, even though she’d only drunk a sip of alcohol. She noted that Marco was familiar with the tragic tale of La Traviata. He was attractive, intelligent and cultured, she realized.
The gong rang out, providing a welcome distraction, signalling that the performance was about to start and patrons should take their seats.
‘Let’s go and find our box,’ Marco said, taking her arm, as Gina followed him out of the lobby and up the sweeping staircase, feeling a sense of déjà vu. Where had she felt like this before? Before she could ponder further, Gina found herself amidst a sea of couture gowns, noting Rolexes on wrists and jewels the size of quails’ eggs hanging from slender necks. There was a light hubbub of chatter amongst the crowd, a whiff of expensive perfume and expectation in the air.
It was almost a relief to get to their box, away from the crush of the other patrons, but as Marco guided her to her seat, Gina realized that Brad hadn’t arrived yet and she was now trapped in a confined space with Marco, the door closed shut behind them. The air seemed to fizz with electricity, and Gina wondered whether Marco felt it too, or if it was all a figment of her imagination. She wondered what was happening to her; she’d never felt such a strong attraction to a man before, and she forced herself to focus on his wedding ring to suppress the feelings coursing through her body.
The box itself was beautifully ornate, a profusion of gilt and velvet and historic detailing. The theatre itself was a lavish horseshoe of gold boxes facing towards the red-curtained stage, in front of which the orchestra were playing a sweeping overture. The ceiling was painted with mythical figures on a background of blue sky, and hanging from the centre of it was the largest chandelier Gina had ever seen.
‘Daniela had a wonderful time with you yesterday.’
‘Did she?’ Gina felt unexpectedly pleased to hear it. ‘She’s great company. You and your wife must be so proud of her.’
Confusion flickered across Marco’s face, and he opened his mouth to speak, but then the door burst open and Brad Redford strolled in, beaming from ear to ear.
‘I can’t believe this place. It’s incredible!’ Brad exclaimed, as he clapped Marco on the back and kissed Gina on both cheeks. ‘And don’t you two make a beautiful couple,’ he grinned.
Gina glanced up and locked eyes with Marco, a sudden jolt of electricity shooting between them. She looked away quickly, but the after-effects still lingered, her skin tingling, sparks fizzing through her bloodstream.
‘Shall we take our seats?’ Brad suggested, oblivious to the chemistry simmering in the air. ‘It’s showtime!’
‘Sure,’ Marco agreed, gesturing for Gina to go ahead.
She slipped into the middle seat, her heels sinking into the plush carpet, her dress trailing over the red velvet chairs. Marco came to sit on her left, while Brad took the right.
‘A rose between two thorns,’ he chuckled.
Then the lights went down, and Gina was grateful that no one could see her expression. With the almost-empty glass of champagne, movie star Brad Redford on one side of her and the charismatic Marco DiMaggio on the other, Gina was feeling decidedly giddy.
Lucia’s performance was faultless. Gina found herself on the edge of her seat, utterly spellbound and completely wrapped up in the music, though she felt sure that Lucia was directing her performance towards their box. It didn’t matter, La Leonessa’s joyful aria – ‘Sempre libera’ – was masterful, and her final scenes moved Gina to tears.
She wiped a finger under her eyes in case her mascara had run, and the gesture caused Marco to look across. Their gazes locked.
‘I’ve never experienced anything like that; how something so tragic can be so uplifting at the same time,’ she said, her voice filled with amazement.
Marco smiled, his eyes soft like melting chocolate. ‘Puccini knew the human soul.’
Gina thought Marco looked so sincere when he said this that she almost wanted to touch his cheek in response.
Snap out of it, he’s married!
Brad leapt to his feet in a standing ovation as Lucia moved to the centre of the stage and took her bows, revelling in the cheers and the spotlight. She was right where she belonged: an undeniable star, a true diva, in the traditional sense of the word. Gina couldn’t help but admire her – her pure, natural talent, and her evident ambition, which had propelled her to the top of her art. Gina felt safe up here, in the shadows of the box, out of reach of Lucia’s searching gaze.
‘She’s spectacular,’ Brad said, sounding awestruck, as red roses were thrown onto the stage. Lucia picked one up and posed with it, the beautiful flower nestling at her overflowing cleavage. Then she glanced around, as though she were looking for someone, and her feline eyes alighted on their box. Gina instinctively pulled back into the shadows, as Lucia blew kisses in their direction – whether aimed at Brad or Marco, Gina wasn’t sure. The heads of the audience began to swivel in their direction, following La Leonessa’s eyeline.
‘Time for me to go,’ Brad apologized, as the murmurs and pointing began, a ripple of excited chatter running through the theatre. He turned to leave the box, and Gina and Brad followed him.
‘Where are we going?’ Gina asked, as he turned away from the exit and towards an unobtrusive corridor that looked as though it was a dead end.
‘Backstage, of course,’ Brad grinned.
Gina’s stomach lurched. Backstage was the last place she wanted to go, but it was too late to make her excuses now. They walked briskly along the tight corridors; the portieres who looked after the security arrangements simply melted away when they saw Brad Redford.
‘Lucia! Brava! Stupenda! You were truly exquisite,’ Brad gushed, as he spotted La Leonessa amongst a crowd of admirers. She was on the way back to her dressing room, energy and genuine happiness radiating from her.
‘Well, Signor Redford,’ she breathed, batting her long eyelashes. ‘Did I impress you?’
‘You were … indescribable. There are no words to express how exquisite your performance was. Simply sublime.’
Lucia bowed her head, graciously accepting his compliments.
‘And you know what?’ Brad went on, smiling. ‘I think you’re right. No movie set in Venice is complete without La Leonessa.’
Lucia inhaled sharply, sheer excitement breaking through her haughty exterior. Gina understood that opera fame was a very different beast to Hollywood blockbuster fame and, for Lucia, the prospect of her face being seen on movie screens around the world was thrilling.
‘You mean …’ Lucia gasped.
‘Let’s talk tomorrow. I’ll have my people call your people,’ Brad winked, echoing Lucia’s phrase. ‘Guys, it’s been a blast, but I have a five a.m. call tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep. Catch you later, OK?’
