“It used to feel a lot bigger. A lot scarier.”
“Now?” I studied the seating and then the stage itself. With all the lights on it was easy to see the catwalks and battens where her silks would be suspended.
“Nowhere near as big or scary.” The brief moment of wonder in her voice pulled all my attention. Instead of staring at the theater, she looked off to the side where Bodhi and Freddie were speaking. “Lots of things that used to be scary just aren’t anymore. I used to think it was because I’d seen worse.”
“You survived worse,” I reminded her. “But you also have security now.” Something she’d never had in all the years I’d known her.
“I do,” Emersyn murmured, then refocused on me and her smile grew. “My life is almost perfect.”
Before I could respond though, the squeak of the doors on the far side opening echoed through the wide space. Two men strode inside, letting the doors bang closed behind them.
The man on the right was Valentin Zhukovsky. The owner of the theater, and a huge Em fan. He was a big man, a paunch in the front, but a cheerful smile on his ruddy face.
“Emersyn! Myšáček!” He spread his arms wide as he strode toward us on swift legs. His companion didn’t lag by much, but the tall man with the silver hair that brushed his shoulders and an expensively tailored suit that seemed out of place in the tired old theater.
Too much new money against the declining grace of the old world. Still, I tracked both men as Em crossed the stage to meet Zhukovsky. Bodhi and Freddie moved out onto the stage, staying close.
Zhukovsky was up the three steep steps to the stage and then his huge hands were engulfing Emersyn’s. “You look wonderful.”
He bussed the air next to each of her cheeks with kisses that never connected.
“It’s good to see you too, Valentin. Thank you so much for the invitation.”
“You have an open invitation. We sold out the day we announced you were coming. Then when you added two more nights, well…” He kissed his fingers as though he were a chef. “Perfection. I will be right up there in my box. I love to watch you.”
The choice of words was a bit unfortunate, even if the man seemed genuinely jovial. His companion hadn’t approached, instead he studied me.
Before I could comment, however, Em was turning to me. “Valentin, this is my chaperone, Elaine. She’s more company than anything else, but it’s her first time in Prague. I want to take her to see some sights and maybe catch them myself this time?”
Elaine. Ugh.
“You need a chaperone?” Zhukovsky frowned, then he shook it off. “We will make arrangements. I would love to show you my city. You were never here long enough before.”
“I know, an oversight, and one I’d like to correct while I’m here.”
“Done.” The man pivoted with more grace than I expected. “Valentin Zhukovsky,” he introduced himself and held out a hand to me.
“Elaine,” I said, hating my full name. “Hardigan.”
Em’s eyes widened. But I wasn’t taking any chances. The speculation in Zhukovsky’s eyes was enough to make me wary. The fact his friend hadn’t joined us and continued to stare added to my unease.
Maybe they would recognize me. Maybe not. I’d take my chances there. But avoiding Benedict was probably smarter.
“It is good to meet you, Miss Hardigan. Emersyn is one of my favorites. I want her stay and by extension yours to be as smooth as possible. If you have any questions or concerns, bring them straight to me. I will take care of everything.” The lightly accented English seemed to add to his emphasis.
“Thank you, Mr. Zhukovsky, I shall endeavor to do my best.” Then I glanced back to his friend. “Is he with you or just…”
“Oh,” Zhukovsky said as he released me. “Juraj, stop lurking like some street thug. You’re making the ladies uncomfortable.”
The man shot Zhukovsky a thin smile that never reached his eyes. As he climbed the steps, he was as reserved as Zhukovsky was boisterous. Frankly, the men seemed polar opposites.
“Juraj Vedriš,” Zhukovsky introduced him. “This is Miss Emersyn Sharpe, an exquisitely talented dancer. You will swallow your tongue when you see her perform.”
“I look forward to it,” the man said easily, though he didn’t offer a hand or make any move to get closer. He was holding himself apart. He glanced past me, but whatever he saw there had him jerking his gaze back to us.
Interesting…
Were we making him nervous?
More importantly, why were we making him nervous?
“We will make time for tour,” Zhukovsky said. “Don’t worry, I won’t bring Juraj. We will have fun.”
Then they were excusing themselves, well Zhukovsky did. His less than chatty friend said nothing as he strode away up the aisle with Zhukovsky following him.
“That was weird,” Emersyn murmured.
“Hmm-hmm.”
Time to do some research into Juraj Vedriš.
I glanced over to Bodhi who already had his phone out. Good. It could be absolutely nothing. He might just be some street level criminal, but that didn’t fit him.
Not at all.
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath and shaking off that bit of unease. All we could do was remain watchful. “What do you need to do next?”
Chapter
