Unforgettable by Karin Kallmaker Read Free Book Online Page A

the Santa Monica women’s shelter program.” Monica fluttered into the audience so Rett took that for her cue.
    There was appreciative applause, which Rett let subside before she breathed into the mike in her sultriest voice. “Ladies … someone has to go first. Tonight you can be a … virgin. So come out, come out, wherever you are.”
    Thankfully, a quartet of tipsy friends was willing to start. They gave a rendition of “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” that made up in enthusiasm what it lacked in pitch. The next forty minutes was a blur of pop hits and laughter. The crowd was in good spirits — whenever someone faltered everyone would join in to finish the piece. Rett didn’t have much to do except chatter while Camille cued up the next song. She kept to easy topics: Xena, Ellen and Anne, and women’s sports.
    “Okay, ladies. We’ve reached that point in the evening where you should refill your beverage of choice and set for a spell.” Rett adjusted the standing mike to her height and nodded to Camille. The gentle opening piano work of “Color My World” flowed out of the speakers. Rett nodded appreciatively when someone turned down the lights.
    The energy was good and the clatter from the bar didn’t overly intrude as she worked from a low, dreamy beginning to “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face,” then picked up a little with “Superstar” and another Carpenters hit, “Top of the World.” She stayed in a light country mood for “Back to Georgia,” then segued to a husky version of “So in Love,” a favorite Cole Porter number. She kept up the trick of making eye contact with two or three women, which made the rest of the audience feel as if they were making eye contact as well.
    She was sinking into the deep, final “my love, am I” when she realized that the tiny dark-haired woman she was singing to looked familiar. Just a little. Like someone she’d maybe sat next to on an airplane — but not recently. Her hair might have been longer. The momentary distraction was annoying, so she redoubled her concentration for the opening of “Are You Lonesome Tonight?”
    Her concentration was broken again when she heard Trish’s voice just to the left of the stage. As the song reached for its climax she could just make out phrases like “not as sharp as it used to be” and “possessive is an understatement” and “willing to work hard or you’ll end up singing in places like this.”
    The crowd was friendly enough to whistle and cheer as she ended the song, though Rett could not remember the last time she’d sung in such a distracted state.
    She tried to empty her mind of the refrain “bitch, bitch, you bitch,” but it wasn’t working. The intro to the next song was already starting. Fine, she thought. If I can’t get you out of my head, then I’ll sing this one for you.
    The song was “Unchained Melody,” and Rett felt the tickle of a smile as she sang about hunger and need and the power of a touch. As she sang she thought about all the love and devotion she had to give. Trish had wanted the sex and the life, but never all of her. All this passion and desire could have been hers, but now Rett would have to save it for someone else.
    Her voice was resonating in her chest and sending prickles all along her arms and back. Suddenly it was easy to forget about Trish. She sang for the someone she hadn’t yet met, the someone who would treasure what Rett had to give. In the throes of the closing verse, she sang for the audience. She gave it her all. You didn’t know I’d been holding back, did you? Here it is, everything I have to give. She infused all the emotional power she could command into the final lines, then let her moaning voice fall to a whisper as the orchestration faded away.
    She was aware that the noise from the bar had stopped and the silence, even as brief as it was, rewarded her for what she’d given into the song. The room erupted into hoots and hollers as Rett