A/N Once again, my undying gratitude to my wonderful friends and betas, Mandy the O and Musique et Amour.

After meeting with Jacqueline, Christine felt more confused than ever. I wish she would just tell me what to do! I am so tired of the games everybody insists on playing!

After a sleepless night, she finally composed a note.

Erik,

When I was at your home, you assured me that I was free to do as I please. I am taking you at your word. I want to end my vocal lessons.

I will sing at Spoleto, of course, because I will not embarrass either one of us by backing out now.

Thank you for your time – I only hope I don't disappoint,

Christine Davies

Refusing to feel anything, she moved through the ensuing weeks like an automaton. The only thing left was her dress for her debut at the Spoleto Festival. Unable to make a decision, she impulsively decided that she would wear her dress from the Masquerade.

She was going to be part of the Intermezzi; a series of late afternoon concerts. Her program was to last one hour and fifteen minutes.

Catherine Flores was hailed as the most beautiful woman in the world. Long-legged and willowy, she moved with the natural grace of a dancer. Her jet black hair, when allowed to be unbound from its usual upswept style, fell straight to her waist. Her green eyes sparkled with intelligence and wit, and although the comparison was trite, her voice sounded heaven sent.

Christine could not believe her name was on the same program as the legendary 'Cat Flores'.

She was backstage, getting ready for her part in the Intermezzi. Meg was buzzing around excitedly, and so Christine kept sending the other woman off on errands. She was only listening with half an ear as Meg came back to report on the other performers.

"Christine, come quick! Remember the woman Mr. Leboeuf was with that night in London? She's here! And, she's even more beautiful in person. You have got to see this woman!"

Rising, Christine crossed the room. Once in the doorway though, she stopped, stunned as she watched the scene unfold before her eyes. Erik was crossing the room, his eyes glued to Cat's face. Her face was lit with delight as she watched him come to her. Reaching her at last, Erik took Cat into his arms and welcomed her warmly. Closing her eyes against the sudden pain, Christine stumbled back to her makeshift vanity. Meg was mesmerized by the tableau, and did not notice her friend's distress.

"Christine, have you ever seen a woman as beautiful as that?" she asked.

Taking a deep breath, Christine steadied herself. "No, Meg, I can't say that I have. She certainly is striking."

"And, I've heard her voice rivals her face!"

Thanks, Meg. Keep rubbing it in. You are such a fool, Christine, to think you can compete with that woman. Erik has already forgotten that you exist.

Rafe had convinced his father to hire a security guard to keep an eye on one Erik Leboeuf. Mr. Chamberlain remembered the incident with Cat Flores well, and shared Rafe's concern. However, as the other man had not been formally charged with a crime, the Charleston Police Department would have no reason to keep him under surveillance. Therefore, a private guard was hired, with express instructions to not interfere in any way unless Ms. Christine Davies was in danger.

Rafe noticed both Erik and the guard in the balcony of the auditorium. He breathed a sigh of relief; Erik would not be able to start a fire undetected. A man would have to be a sharpshooter to be able to shoot at someone on stage from the balcony, and Rafe knew that there was no way a rifle could have been smuggled into the building. He grimaced at himself, deciding Meg was right. He was being ridiculous.

Finally, Christine heard her introduction, and she made her way to the stage. Her rigorous training stood her in good stead, as she lost herself in her music. She had her own cheering section as many of the RS&A employees and interns were on hand, in addition to Rafe and his family. She was well-received, and although she could not find him in the crowd, Erik was pleased with her debut.

Back in her dressing room, Christine was pleasantly surprised when Meg announced she had a visitor. Rising, she turned to the door with a smile as Rafe entered.

"Christine! You were wonderful! I never knew you could sing like that. My parents and sister are here, and we would love to have you, oh and you, Meg, as well, join us for a dinner celebration at their hotel. Please say you will."

"Thank you for the kind offer," Christine began as she glanced past Rafe and saw Catherine leaving on Erik's arm. "I can't speak for Meg, but I would love to join your family for dinner. Meg?"

"If you're certain," Meg answered uncertainly as she looked between the pair. Seeing only friendship, she could not resist the chance to spend some time with Rafe, and she quickly agreed.

My memories of her voice did not do her justice, Erik thought with amazement. I did not think it possible that she could sing any more beautifully than I remembered. Even so, Christine has the better voice.

The pair spent a quiet evening in her hotel suite, laughing and reminiscing about her music lessons. It was nearly midnight before she rose. "It was wonderful to see you again Erik," she said as she gently kissed his unmasked cheek. "I have a fabulous life now, and it is all thanks to you."

Taking his leave, he wondered why he didn't want to stay with her. Well, if I could walk away from Cat, I can certainly leave Christine! My job with her is complete … she had the triumphant debut at Spoleto that I predicted and planned for her. Lost in his memories, he could almost hear her singing and he thought his heart would break. She has the voice of an angel, he marveled, as if realizing this for the first time. Even with only a few months' training, it surpasses even Cat's voice, and I did not think that was possible. Afterwards, watching Rafe embrace her, seeing her smile up at him, Erik felt pangs of jealousy. Remembering her rejection, he told himself again, she means nothing … nothing. Now I can move on with my life.

Suddenly came the unbidden picture of his future … bleak, lonely, alone. It's just as well, he reminded himself. She would never willingly choose me. She made that abundantly clear in Savannah – she was horrified at the thought of sharing my home. She could not fathom letting the world see that ... Shaking his head to clear the unwanted thoughts, he stopped at RS&A instead of going directly home. He had a few things to wrap up before he could return to the Mayan Riviera for the summer.

The Chamberlains were staying at Charleston Place. Mrs. Chamberlain had planned a private dinner party in their suite and the six of them enjoyed a celebrating together. Rafe was pleasantly surprised by Christine's attention, but did not question it too closely. Meg was heartsick, torn between sympathy for her friend, disgust at Christine's careless using of Rafe, and jealous of the attention Rafe was giving Christine. By the end of the evening, she had a headache and was regretting her decision to join them.

Christine, Meghan, and Rafe flew to the Mayan Riviera the next day.

Meghan was staying as Christine's guest at the Resort. Christine quickly fell back into the routine of cleaning guest rooms by day, partying with the rest of the summer staff by night. They had been back nearly two weeks before she ran into Erik.

She, Rafe, and Meghan were returning to their rooms. Waiting for the elevator, Rafe pulled her close and whispered leeringly into her ear. Eyes dancing with laughter, Christine looked up and found herself staring at Erik. Giving her a knowing smirk, he turned and walked away.

The laughter died as she pulled free from Rafe, cheeks flaming with embarrassment from the insulting look Erik had given her. Speaking softly, she told Rafe and Meghan to go on ahead; she would be up shortly. Moving quietly, she went to the stairway that led to Erik's suite. As she walked up the stairs, she was grateful that she was wearing a short skirt. Avoiding the security cameras, she removed her panties and folded them into her pocketbook. She straightened her skirt, took a deep breath, and using her staff passkey, opened the door to Erik's suite.

He stared at her, unbelievingly, as she walked into his suite. Finding his voice, he finally said, "I could have you fired for improper use of your key."

"I know that. And it doesn't matter to me. I had to come to see you … I had to thank you personally."

Erik smirked at this. "And what, exactly, are you thanking me for?" he inquired.

"For showing me my true nature. For revealing to me my true calling. For giving me the freedom to be myself." she answered as she came towards him.

Erik's smirk deepened. "Ah, yes," he replied. "You were a great success at Spoleto. But then …" his voice broke off as she stopped just short of him and turned. She dropped her pocketbook as she turned and, not bothering to stoop, bent over to pick it up.

Erik's reaction was as sudden and as profound as she had anticipated. Turning back to him with a knowing smile, she reached down and unzipped his trousers. Erik stood there stupefied, his normally agile brain stunned by the sudden turn of events.

Christine lovingly caressed him. Erik rested his hand against his desk for support, as he stared at her. He wanted to sit down, to pull her down on top of him, and let her sheath him completely, but he realized that she was not going to allow that to happen.

He felt his excitement increase and he grew harder still. Hardly breaking her stride, Christine knelt on the floor in front of him. His orgasm was fast and furious, and once it was over, Christine stood up. Reaching for a tissue from her pocket, she daintily wiped her mouth and turned to leave. At the door, she stopped and looked back at Erik.

"My debt to you is now paid. Thank you, Sir, for … everything."

Erik did not know how long he stood there, staring at the door. He could not wrap his brain around what had just happened. One the one hand, he realized uneasily that Christine's behavior was disconcertingly out of character for her, but on the other, it confirmed his belief that she was just another woman, whoring around.

Walking over to his piano, he glanced at the music he had been writing. A continuation of the opera he began the previous fall, it mirrored his experience with Christine … sweeping highs, crashing lows. With a roar of disgust, he swept the music to the floor and stomped off to take a shower. She means nothing! he assured himself. But, it certainly won't … hurt … anything for me to have a plaything for the rest of the summer.

With a cunning smile, he formulated his plan, and after a few well-placed telephone calls, he sat down at his piano. She thinks to play with me? he asked himself quietly, well, she will certainly find out that even here I control her life.

Christine was relieved to see Meghan was chatting online when she returned to the room. She quickly got ready for bed and said goodnight. Christine was asleep before Meghan could question her about her whereabouts that evening. For the first time since the aborted weekend in Savannah, her dreams were of a dark, difficult man.

The next week passed uneventfully. Christine, Meghan, and Rafe spent every evening together. Meghan was offered a position as a maid, and so moved out of Christine's room to her own. Christine was relieved by that; she had been too long without a roommate, and to have one in such close quarters was tiresome. There was a subtle shift in the relationships, though, and Christine realized one day, with surprise, that Meghan and Rafe seemed to be on friendlier terms than before. She didn't have long to muse about that, however, as she was called into Senora Guerriero's office.

"Christine, I wanted to talk to you about your assignment here," she began. "Certain … things … have come to our attention."

Horrified, Christine stared at the older woman. "I'm sorry … I'm afraid … I don't understand," she stuttered.

Senora Guerriero looked at her curiously. "This isn't a reprimand, Christine. Merely a reassignment."

"A reassignment?" Christine repeated stupidly.

"Yes, my dear. There have been rumors afloat about your heretofore hidden talents."

Christine could not help the blush that stained her cheeks as the blood rushed to her head. Oh, dear God, let me die now, she prayed.

"There's really no need to be so humble, or embarrassed, Christine. The rumors have been quite flattering."

Christine continued to stare dumbly.

"So, effective immediately, you will no longer be in the Housekeeping Department. We are moving you to one of the nightclubs," she stopped and consulted her notes, then continued "… to the Piano Bar, actually."