Chapter Six
There was something incredibly lush about the entire surroundings as they descended from the main auditorium into the belly of the building that held the backstage meet and greet. The entire walk felt like being in the long tracking shot in Martin Scorcese's "Goodfellas," with such a wild mixture of people all around them. They were by far the only people being brought back for the meet and greet, and Tabby was certain she could see politicians, movie stars and athletes in the minor crowd around them. A few people had taken note of Kelly, although she'd done her best to be polite but also dismissive, as if she just wanted to enjoy her evening like anyone else, and while one fan had taken a bit more discouragement than the rest, eventually everyone had gotten the hint and let them be.
No matter how lush and decadent a performance may seem, the very best backstage areas just about anywhere were rarely more than a step above a fifth grade cafeteria, with tables and chairs sort of scattered haphazardly around the space, many of them simple wire bends with only the barest of cushions on top of them. There were a few long flimsy tables with thin tablecloths thrown over them, stapled to the tops, and a meager selection of crackers, cheeses and meats, but it was clear the food was not meant to be the draw. It never was for events like this. No, the draw was in the people getting a chance to hobnob with performers whose work they'd greatly enjoyed.
It would have been easy for Tabby, Roni and Kelly to go up to Charlie Carmichael early on in the meet and greet, but that would've just painted them as overly eager, something Tabby was determined not to let herself be categorized as. Besides, not rushing meant Tabby could have a chance to observe Charlie in a social setting before deciding to make her move, and within just a few minutes, she was very glad she'd chosen the wait and see approach.
Unlike many of the other performers, Charlie had an immediate sense of joy to her. Many of the performers would immediately launch into a diatribe about how woefully misunderstood they were as an artist, or how confining it was to be performing a piece with no room for individualism or personal expression, wanting to focus on how, given the chance, they could do so much more than the options they were being afforded.
Charlie was as far on the other side of the spectrum from those grumps as she could get. She was humble, far more humble than any performer Tabby had ever met before. She constantly espoused how thankful she was just for the opportunity to perform with such talented musicians. She spoke highly about how much she enjoyed performing, and how this show in particular introduced her to a composer she wasn't familiar with before they had started rehearsals, but that she had come to pick up his entire catalog, and how it had set her down a path she'd never even imagined getting into, with soul-funk-jazz being her new favorite thing.
There were no hints of reservation, no whiffs of critique for her fellow performers or the conductor himself. In fact, the smile on Charlie's face didn't fade at all over the course of the evening, even in the face of some people trying to get her to complain about something. She focused on the happier aspects of conversation.
Her improved senses let Tabitha listen in on a number of the other conversations around the room, and it seemed like shit talking was the top priority for most of the musicians, with relentless self-promotion coming in a close second. Many of the musicians were happy enough to dunk on other members of the orchestra, the composer, the host of the party or even the city itself. They were all happy to be complaining about something, as if it was the only sort of conversation that came to them naturally, and if they weren't complaining, they didn't really have much else in the way to talk about.
But not in the entire time while they were slowly circling in on Charlie did Tabby once overhear her talking poorly of anyone. She was posh and erudite, well-spoken and generally happy to talk about whatever the people who'd just approached her were interested in, whether it be discussing her background or how it felt to be breaking so many glass ceilings all at once. And despite all the praise being thrust upon her, she did her best to redistribute that praise to those around her, to make sure that people knew she was simply one person in a massive team effort.
This wasn't a one-off for Charlie either, Tabitha could overhear. She'd been a regular for many of the charities around the NYC circuit, spending time feeding the homeless at soup kitchens, delivering toys to orphaned children and even putting in manual labor hours building homes with Habitat For Humanity.
"We're
certain
this woman's a nephilim, Roni?" Tabitha asked her assistant, scowling over a delicious scampi appetizer that she'd plucked off a shelf. "And you're
sure
that bit of information about her predilections is correct?"
If looks could kill, Veronica's glare back would've slain hundreds. "You may question my tastes, ma'am, or my preferences or even my sense of style, but never,
ever
question the accuracy of my research. If I learned one lesson true and clear from your mother, if you intend to aim at the top, you had better not miss, because you only get one shot, and nobody's ever going to give you time to reload. Yes, my information is accurate."
"And she's
never
been with a woman before?"
"She had a threeway once with one of her college roommates and her roommate's boyfriend when they were both pretty drunk, just so she could say she'd had some wild college times, but no, she's too focused on the other thing," Veronica replied.
"Women can handle that also," Tabitha said with a mischievous grin. "In fact, I'm looking forward to hearing from her mouth why she's so particularly in to that one aspect."
"Well, the party is starting to wind down a little, Mistress, so if we don't make our approach soon, we may just miss her. It sounds like she's starting to consider making her exit for the night."
"Then let's not allow her to pass without making time for us, Roni," Tabitha said, as the three women began moving in for the kill on their prey.
Charlie's flush bust was even more impressive up close, and it was clear the top portion of the dress was straining a bit against those lush curves, and the fabric was doing its best to try and hold it all together. Tabitha could even see the hint of Charlie's nipples straining against the dress.
"Your performance was masterful, Miss Carmichael," Tabby said to her as the three of them moved to cut off a number of the other people from the conversation, the advantage of having two women operating as bouncers, pushing the other people away from them. It didn't take too much effort, as it seemed like the remaining people were gravitating towards conductor, who had a long lineage. It was the perfect time, as the party was dwindling quickly, and the number of people in the area was getting sparse. "I'm not all that familiar with the composer, but I have to admit, it did have a certain sort of panache to it. He was something of a big deal in the 70s, but his star dwindled a bit over the years. I understand he had something of resurgence late in his life after some of his works were sampled by hip hop artists."
"Absolutely," Charlie responded with a genuine smile. "I didn't realize until after I'd started digging into his portfolio that I'd grown up hearing some of his music sampled by Dr. Dre, among other people. It was a delight mixing the new school with the old school. You are...?"
"Tabitha St. Cloud. I'm an attorney with Ariton, Oriens & Associates. We're a private services firm that handles anything our clients need."
Charlie's smile widened a little bit. "That doesn't sound at
all
ominous, does it, love? Dare I even ask you to delve further into what sort of services those are?"
