Page 7 of Unraveling Fate

Ugly.

But in between the two towns the hills rolled and rippled. Mossy green in the winter, amber gold in the summer, and always empty, except for the occasional ranch house with a cluster of horses or cattle. Young boulders grew out of the earth, and low cliffs erupted from the hills like castle ruins.

In the winter, mist ghosted between the oak trees, obscuring anything twenty feet past the edge of the two-lane highway. As a child, driving with her father between jobs, those unseen places had itched at her. Restlessness had made her lean against the window, the seat belt cutting across her neck, aching with theimpossible longing to stretch far enough to touch those places. To reach out and find Somewhere Else.

But then she’d catch her Babbo watching her in the rearview mirror, and guilt would pull her back to the middle of her seat. He didn’t need to worry about being left again.

Now, no mist swirled between the boulders. The hills undulated, golden and dusty in the end of summer, and the only thing she’d be reaching was her father’s favorite import parts supplier in Modesto.

The hills flattened, and the Central Valley’s concrete world spread in place of the fields. To her left sprouted a bright green golf course surrounded by an iron fence. A sign arched over the driveway,Learmonth Country Clubspelled out in cream-and-gold letters. Another sign was propped against the entrance gate, and Cadenza slowed as she read it.

Help Wanted: Weekend Singer, Inquire at Front Desk

Her mother’s email burned in her mind. The job at Norroway’s was a godsend, but she needed three hundred more dollars. She had to fill her schedule.

Ilaria hated lounge singers. But she hated failures more. Cadenza jerked a hard left into the country club’s driveway and parked near some potted topiaries.

She slipped a resume—Cadenza Cavalieri, Soprano—from a folder she kept in the car, raked her fingers through her hair, and marched towards the club’s front doors. Her mother didn’t need to knowhowshe paid for her airfare. If becoming a lounge singer was what it took to get to Italy and show her mother she had what it took, then so be it.

That afternoon,the last note of the Star-Spangled Banner threaded through exhaust fumes and heat mirages to hover over the Norroway Automotive racetrack. The crowd’s appreciation of the patriotic display mixed with the growing roar of revving engines. Cadenza took a step back from the edge of the performance platform, nodded her acknowledgement of the applause, and climbed down the few stairs to the grassy middle field. Drostan’s facility was on the small, informal side. A half mile paperclip track with minimal banking and spectator seating on only the north side straightaway and first turn. The two entrance gates at either end were used by crowds and cars alike.

Cadenza jogged towards the east gate. In years past, she would have stayed to see the race, but the parts she’d picked up yesterday in Modesto were waiting in the garage, and her fingers itched to get dirty. She was planning on listing an offering for voice lessons in the local online classifieds as well. It might bring in a little extra cash. A hand brushed her elbow at the exit, and she looked up to find Canon, flashing his brilliant smile.

“Cadenza,” he said. “I came by the apartment yesterday looking for you.”

“Oh, I had an errand to run.” She smiled but kept moving towards the exit.

“You sounded great, by the way.” He hooked a thumb back towards the track but kept pace with her.

“Thanks. Are you not staying for the race?”

“No, I’m manning the front today. Can I walk you back up?” He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

His perfect smile faltered, and his sales floor veneer slipped a notch closer to honesty. Cadenza paused. “Sure, are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” The smile brightened. He swept a hand forward to encourage her to keep walking, the race noise fading as they passed through the gate. “It’s just, I have a function that I’m putting on in Sacramento. Sort of last minute. Some influential people are helping to finance a campaign for me to run for State Senate.”

“Wow,” Cadenza said. “You were serious.”

“Most serious.”

“Shouldn’t you start with something smaller first?” she asked. Heat bounced off the asphalt, throwing bass notes in her face. The garage came into view, and she walked faster. It’d be cooler in the garage. And quieter. “Get practice in local politics or something?”

Canon shrugged. “Go big, right? And these backers are confident they can get me in position.”

“Ok, well, good luck with that.” Cadenza keyed in the garage code. “Did you need me to take your sales floor shift or something? Because I don’t have any sales experience.”

“No.” He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest. “I’d like you to be my date for the evening. It’s tomorrow, and it’s black tie. So, like I said, late notice, but I’d really like for you to come.”

“Oh. Thanks. But I don’t think that’d be a good idea, since we’re basically co-workers.”And I’m leaving in a month.

Canon held up a hand to stall her argument. “I know, I know. But since it’s my function, I have final say on the guest list. And I happen to know that the artistic director of the Sacramento Philharmonic and Opera will be there, along with a few of the board members, and I told them I knew a brilliant, young vocalist who they have to meet.”

Cadenza’s mouth dropped. “You did?”

He nodded. “I did. I know it’s not the Met or anything, but it’s not a racetrack either. They have a spot in the company soon. Could be something useful for you.”

A new plan formed in her mind. If she got this spot in Sac Phil she could go to Italy, add an amazing festival to her resume, make connections, and then come home to a real position. A position that could lead to bigger things.