ever be. She was all set for tonight.
***
By half past eight, people had packed the bar. Every seat was taken. The patrons filled the air with loud conversation, as they clinked bottles of beer and devoured their meals. A small area had been cleared at one end for a stage with a microphone stand, ready for Delilah's performance. Smaller crowds of patrons stood at the margins. They, too, had drinks in hand and passed the time with idle talk.
Micah stood alone at the actual bar and leaned against the counter. He coolly smoked a cigarette, as he waited patiently for the gig to start.
"Oh, you came all the way down to my bar to get laid, did you?" asked Bill with a note of semi-friendly sarcasm.
"No need. Your mama scratched that itch for me last night,” Micah replied. He grinned at the ridiculousness of the banter.
"Ha! You know she's been dead for years, right?" said Bill, as he passed an ashtray in Micah's direction.
"Oh, I walked straight into that one, didn't I?" replied Micah. He didn’t sound the least bit fazed. The two laughed together.
"But seriously, Micah," Bill said more solemnly. He leaned against the counter and said, "Don't try to pick her up."
"What? Is she your illegitimate daughter?" asked Micah, jokingly.
"She may as well be," replied Bill in all seriousness. "The kid's been working at my bar since she was fifteen years old. Her parents passed away some time ago. She's been supporting herself ever since. So yeah, I do care about what happens to her and the kind of guys who want to pick her up."
"I want to meet her, Bill," answered Micah. He took another drag on his cigarette. "That doesn't mean I'm going to be a pig about it."
"Doesn't the Vice President of the Blood Brothers get enough pussy already?" Bill asked with a laugh. "Apart from my dead mother, of course."
"Plenty," replied Micah without a smile, "but they're all airheaded groupies. I want to find a girl with some substance and maybe hold on to her this time."
"Well, at least wait till after the gig before making your move," responded Bill, "because that girl has the voice of an angel."
"That's why I'm here, remember?" said Micah, stubbing out his cigarette.
"Sure you are," Bill snorted. He got up to serve some other customers "And for god's sake, buy a beer while you're here. I don't need a leaning bar ornament."
***
Delilah stepped onto the stage. The click of her heels was barely audible over the din of conversation in the bar. She adjusted the microphone a little. Then, she noticed that her audience hadn't discovered that she’d stepped on stage. One by one, though, the patrons saw her. A hush spread across the packed room. The attention momentarily caused Delilah to freeze. Everyone looked at her and waited expectantly for her to start.
She wasn’t afraid of audiences. She'd performed at all kinds of little gigs to get by; but, tonight was very different. Bill invited a producer to come see this particular performance. Someone in the audience had the power to make or break her dreams, if he actually showed up. What was it Bill had told her about the company's response? "I get fifty calls just like yours every day." Was there only a one in fifty chance that the producer was there?
Of course, that was just her nerves talking. There was absolutely no use in worrying about whether the producer actually showed up or not. The crowd still watched her and waited impatiently for her to start the show. Delilah took a deep breath and began to sing.
***
Micah had just pulled out another cigarette when Delilah began to sing. Bill hadn't exaggerated a thing. Her voice was beautiful. He and the rest of the audience were spellbound, as she poured out her heart and soul. Most remarkable of all, the song was sung a cappella . She was not backed up by a guitar or piano and it wasn’t needed. Slowly, the audience began to clap along with the song.
***
By half past eight, people had packed the bar. Every seat was taken. The patrons filled the air with loud conversation, as they clinked bottles of beer and devoured their meals. A small area had been cleared at one end for a stage with a microphone stand, ready for Delilah's performance. Smaller crowds of patrons stood at the margins. They, too, had drinks in hand and passed the time with idle talk.
Micah stood alone at the actual bar and leaned against the counter. He coolly smoked a cigarette, as he waited patiently for the gig to start.
"Oh, you came all the way down to my bar to get laid, did you?" asked Bill with a note of semi-friendly sarcasm.
"No need. Your mama scratched that itch for me last night,” Micah replied. He grinned at the ridiculousness of the banter.
"Ha! You know she's been dead for years, right?" said Bill, as he passed an ashtray in Micah's direction.
"Oh, I walked straight into that one, didn't I?" replied Micah. He didn’t sound the least bit fazed. The two laughed together.
"But seriously, Micah," Bill said more solemnly. He leaned against the counter and said, "Don't try to pick her up."
"What? Is she your illegitimate daughter?" asked Micah, jokingly.
"She may as well be," replied Bill in all seriousness. "The kid's been working at my bar since she was fifteen years old. Her parents passed away some time ago. She's been supporting herself ever since. So yeah, I do care about what happens to her and the kind of guys who want to pick her up."
"I want to meet her, Bill," answered Micah. He took another drag on his cigarette. "That doesn't mean I'm going to be a pig about it."
"Doesn't the Vice President of the Blood Brothers get enough pussy already?" Bill asked with a laugh. "Apart from my dead mother, of course."
"Plenty," replied Micah without a smile, "but they're all airheaded groupies. I want to find a girl with some substance and maybe hold on to her this time."
"Well, at least wait till after the gig before making your move," responded Bill, "because that girl has the voice of an angel."
"That's why I'm here, remember?" said Micah, stubbing out his cigarette.
"Sure you are," Bill snorted. He got up to serve some other customers "And for god's sake, buy a beer while you're here. I don't need a leaning bar ornament."
***
Delilah stepped onto the stage. The click of her heels was barely audible over the din of conversation in the bar. She adjusted the microphone a little. Then, she noticed that her audience hadn't discovered that she’d stepped on stage. One by one, though, the patrons saw her. A hush spread across the packed room. The attention momentarily caused Delilah to freeze. Everyone looked at her and waited expectantly for her to start.
She wasn’t afraid of audiences. She'd performed at all kinds of little gigs to get by; but, tonight was very different. Bill invited a producer to come see this particular performance. Someone in the audience had the power to make or break her dreams, if he actually showed up. What was it Bill had told her about the company's response? "I get fifty calls just like yours every day." Was there only a one in fifty chance that the producer was there?
Of course, that was just her nerves talking. There was absolutely no use in worrying about whether the producer actually showed up or not. The crowd still watched her and waited impatiently for her to start the show. Delilah took a deep breath and began to sing.
***
Micah had just pulled out another cigarette when Delilah began to sing. Bill hadn't exaggerated a thing. Her voice was beautiful. He and the rest of the audience were spellbound, as she poured out her heart and soul. Most remarkable of all, the song was sung a cappella . She was not backed up by a guitar or piano and it wasn’t needed. Slowly, the audience began to clap along with the song.
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