Unforgettable by Karin Kallmaker Read Free Book Online

hearing in her head.
    Within a few minutes she was glad she was on foot. Fabulous hibiscus the size of dinner plates hung over walls like springtime flags. Roses were blooming all along the boulevard, leaving the night drenched with their heady scent. The cool air was bringing out the heavy aroma of watered soil and greenery. Nights like these made her forget that most of Los Angeles was a concrete freeway. By the time she got to Monica’s she felt less like she had been put through an emotional meat grinder. Ob-la-di, ob-la-da.
    “Rett, you doll!” Monica Green hugged with her whole body. Given her size and tendency to wear flowing caftans, it was always an enveloping experience. Rett emerged from the fluttering fabric slightly mussed and smelling of rosewater. “How do you want things to go tonight? Like the last time?”
    “Well, I thought you could —”
    “About forty minutes for the amateurs, right?” Monica pushed her yellow-blond curls out of her eyes. The fix lasted no more than a second. “Then a set for you — thirty minutes. Is that too long? I think you went longer than that last time.”
    “No, I—”
    “Then amateurs for the rest of the night. Could you host the first part? You know, sing along when people chicken out, that sort of thing?”
    “I was planning to —”
    “Then we’re all set.” Monica was beaming. “I have room-temperature water set aside for you. I’d have never known how important it was if you hadn’t told me. I’d have thought iced water was better. Is it for your throat or your vocal cords?”
    “I’m not sure, it just works—”
    “This is Camille Masterson. She’s the D.J. and she’ll be more than happy to help jolly people up, won’t you?”
    Camille just nodded. Rett decided Camille knew that actually talking to Monica took more energy than any one person could maintain. Rett nodded back and added a belated smile. Camille was all in black with short-cropped white hair and a body that looked like she spent half of each day doing Tae-Bo workouts. Just looking at her made Rett feel slovenly and overdressed in her jeans, denim vest and what now seemed like an ultra-femme linen shirt with poetically full sleeves. If she was looking for a diversion, Rett was sure Camille could make her forget all about Trish.
    Yeah, that would be a good step, she thought. A little meaningless sex so you can feel guilty for weeks for not calling and then avoid all places where D.J.s might hang out. Better yet, move to another city just to avoid any chance encounter. That would put your life back on the right track.
    The seats were starting to fill and Rett felt the familiar rush of anxiety and adrenaline that always accompanied a performance. This space of time was when Trish would do something to distract her — chat about nothing in particular, or discuss some minor business matter. It took the edge off, but was a piss-poor reason to start missing Trish.
    “Your disc is in the machine.” Camille was lounging next to her control panel. “Do the numbers cue by themselves or should I do it?”
    “I prefer to have them cue automatically, but if you could stand by to pause if necessary, that would be great.” She had forgotten to give Camille the selection numbers. So much for her head being on what she was doing. “Thanks for reminding me, though. There’s a few tracks I don’t want to cue up.” Like “Lost Without Your Love.” She wasn’t going to sing any come-back-to-me, I-can’t-survive-without-you songs tonight.
    The cabaret area of the bar was standing-room-only and Monica flitted about scattering song lists to people. Camille cranked up “We Are Family” for background until Monica clambered onto the low stage and waved her arms for silence.
    “We are so lucky tonight to have Rett Jamison hosting our evening. She’s going to do her own set, too!” Monica paused and the crowd oohed on cue. “Thank you all for coming. Part of tonight’s cover charge is going to