A/N: Whoo hoo! 175 reviews! Have a chapter:

Chapter 56 – I Perceive I Have Offended You

That evening Anne took a taxi to meet Meg at the address Daroga had given. She gave the cab driver the directions and considered that Raoul's hall was in the area, though she could not recall the number. To her great astonishment, the cab pulled up in front of the building which housed the Fontaine. "Are you sure this is the address?" The driver grunted in a perturbed fashion.

She made her way into the building and noticed that performers were exiting; a rehearsal of some sort must have occurred. She could hardly reconcile the idea of using the very establishment Raoul was soon to purchase, a small concert hall, as in any way fitting a Broadway theatrical production's needs. Gina and Daroga were at the front of the house, near the stage, when Anne entered. The curly-haired dancer was commenting on some aspect of the set-up as workers disassembled a wooden structure on the platform. She perceived Anne and announced, "Here she is!"

Gina made her way up the center aisle toward her friend. Her steps were jubilant, and she beamed as though she had news. So it did not surprise Anne when she stated, "You are in for such a happy surprise! And you have me to thank."

"Oh, really?"

"Can I tell her, Daroga?" she asked looking toward the stage behind her.

"No," he stated simply.

"Is this about Meg?"

"Is this about Meg?" repeated Gina and laughed. "No, it's about you, silly."

Her friend had managed to completely bewilder her. She was standing in the house she had just traversed with Raoul a week ago; a hall that was supposed to be his. The idea dawned on her that this was why he had not wished to visit it. He was allowing it to be used for the rehearsals of the Siren. But why was the Siren being rehearsed here? And why had Raoul not spoken of it earlier? He would have seen that she was acquainted with Frederik, and she was fairly certain the vicomte knew the musician had composed all of the scores for the production. Full of questions, Anne inquired of her friend.

"Yes. We are just renting it until the work at the Theatre Populaire is completed," Gina explained. "They extended the run for the previous production which caused things to fall two weeks behind schedule. Daroga found that this stage is slightly larger than the one on which the sailors will perform."

"The stage at the Populaire is smaller? No…"

"I'm talking about the stage built on the ship prop which will be erected over the original stage."

Anne took in the information and nodded. "I was under the impression that this hall was under contract and soon to change ownership."

"I know nothing about that. The owners readily allowed us to rent it for a short period to aid in the cost of the recent improvements they have made." Gina checked her watch and remarked, "I'm looking forward to working with little Giry. She is incredible!" Anne smiled at her friend's good fortune. "Oh, but I am still reeling about you…" Gina added cryptically. Again Anne was forced to wonder what was afoot, for Gina would not say another word.

Minutes later, she heard the sounds of voices in the front of the house; one of them was Frederik's. When Meg entered with her uncle, Anne could hardly keep from shaking her head in disbelief. Two meetings in one day in such a great city, it was uncanny. He approached her directly. "Hello, again." She could tell from his manner that he had anticipated the meeting. She shook his hand, grateful that her fingers had not had time to reach the fullness of their freezing nature which occurred when she was truly nervous. Yet she immediately curled her fingers and placed them into one another, shifting them back and forth at intervals. Unconsciously, she was wringing her hands as she stared up at Frederik, around at Meg and Gina, and at the approaching Daroga.

"Frederik, you know everyone here. Sorelli, our choreographer," Daroga began.

"Yes, I remember Gina," the musician spoke, lifting his hand to shake hers. "And thanks again," he added, though Anne did not know why he thanked her friend.

"A pleasure," stated Gina, her thick dark ringlets bobbing as she reached to greet him within the circle of artists that had formed.

"It seems you are the mutual acquaintance of all but yours truly," expressed Daroga to Anne. "Yet, I feel as though I should know you. I have heard of nothing but you – or, I should say, your vocal ability – for almost two weeks now." Anne's face was incredibly hot. Why was Daroga telling her this? And why were the four of them gazing so expectantly at her? Then the truth washed over her: the news had something to do with her recording of the Siren's Song.

"I have a business proposition for you," Frederik had stated.

But how could she sing the piece when it had been omitted from the program by the producers? As though Frederik read her thoughts, he explained. "From the moment you recorded the Siren's Song, I found myself in a quandary. It was so exactly what the production needed, and I couldn't get it out of my mind. Yet I knew that the producers had put the condition into the contract that I needed to change the score. I agonized over it for days; it did no good to tell myself it was impossible. There had to be a way to make it so. When I returned to the city, I sought out Daroga who had accepted the position of director as a favor to me. I applied to him for his advice. He listened to the song and felt the same as I; for, he had been most astonished that the score was expected to be reworked in the first place."

"And what a trial for me to find I was to direct the aspects of a piece that had not yet been created," rejoined Daroga.

"If you had not seconded me, I wouldn't have fought for the score I will admit is my favorite completed composition to date," Frederik told the director, gratefully.

It was Daroga's turn to continue the story, and he addressed Anne again. "So, while Frederik was visiting the musician in Florida -,"

"And apologizing profusely for Harville's trials in trying to come up with a revision…" interjected Frederik.

"I visited the producers with your recording," Daroga nodded to Anne, "to see if some alternative could possibly be arranged."

"And, incredibly, they gave in and set up an appointment for me to meet with them!" exclaimed Frederik. "And after two consequent meetings, I've been able to run my red pen through our original contract and add my own contingencies."

"The particulars are somewhat unorthodox," commented Daroga. "You will be working for Frederik. But if you have no objections, you're hired to sing the Siren's Song."

Anne, not having been able to prepare herself, was forced to endure the flood of differing emotions that rushed through her without any ability to quell or control them. It was too much. When the offer, though it could hardly be called one, was finally thrust upon her, her foremost emotion was to be utterly repulsed. She was all but ready to turn on her heel and walk out of the room. It was taken for granted that she would accept the role, and nothing was further from her mind. Yet she tried with every ounce of her being to respond in a gracious fashion.

"You forget," she stated crisply, but calmly, "I have a job, and I will be expected to be in my office on Monday."

Gina spoke with an elated air, "But you told me yourself they have encouraged you to seek out a performance to fulfill your -,"

"Not at this short a notice, I assure you!" interrupted Anne. She was finding it excruciatingly hard to contain her frustration. Her words, spoken forcefully, allowed the others gathered around her to perceive that she was not pleased in some way.

Daroga looked upon her quizzically, and Frederik asked quietly, "Have you any other objection, apart from your previous commitment to the school?"

"I should think that would be enough. But yes; I do." The words were spoken calmly, but Anne's flush had traveled to her ears and neck. Her eyes, so serious, glowed with passionate disquiet.

"Excuse us," said Frederik as he motioned to her to quit the room with him, and walked away from the three other listeners. He accompanied the distraught woman out into the lobby, and they stood before the stairway which only days ago Anne had descended with thoughts of admiring her cousin's courteousness. "I perceive I have offended you, though I know not how."

Anne could not allow her mouth to speak at that moment. Not only did the impudence of his going behind her back to secure a position for her that she did not desire provoke her, but his nerve, having written the song for her voice and using her own words to mock her, in applying to her to proclaim those sentiments to the whole of New York City! All of her pent up frustration, on the tip of that untamed beast called a tongue, beckoned to be released upon the man before her. His head was bent attentively toward her; his questioning eyes only incited her more. She looked away, biting her lips to seal them, and praying that she could contain the flood which threatened to overcome her strength of will.

It was a business proposition. A business proposition! That's what he wanted, after nine years! She felt the pain boil over into her senses; her eyes were stinging. The tears would come; she could not stop them. She was going to cry like a child in front of him. No! She would not. This man was not Erik. He did not understand what she had endured all of these years. He would not witness her composure dissolving.

Her eyes alighted on the entrance to the stairwell. She skirted around him and passed down the rows of steps to the first floor. "Anne!" she heard him calling to her as she ran from the building, almost tripping on her way down the steps onto the sidewalk. She was blinded by the well of tears flooding her eyes; she couldn't see where she was going and didn't care. She would walk forever and never turn back. Consciously, she told herself it was insensible to think in such a way, but instinct sent her onward for the next block, swerving to avoid others in her path.

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A/N: In Leroux's POTO, the Opera Ghost used red "ink" to add his own stipulations to the opera owners' memorandum book. So, was this too ooc for Anne? I suppose it is more of an S&S 'Elinor' moment, but it had to be…

Misty Breyer: Laura Carteret is Constance Dalrymple's daughter in my story; the one who was overlooked for Fran Carlotta. She is the reason Walter Elliot isn't interested in attending the Siren. I love Jimmy Stewart movies!

followthestory: I laughed so hard when I saw your review. One word said it all.

Ana-Misa: No face-off between Raoul and Frederik, just hints that there might be more there than meets the eye. "I'm surprised that Elizabeth's sour expression hadn't marred her looks permanently." Whew. I gather you're not fond of Miss Elizabeth Elliot. Becoming Jane is good, eh?

bluetinkerbell: Yeah, I was trying to make Frederik's entry unexpected. Kind of how Anne would feel, taking a quick double take. But, maybe that is too confusing… hmm. Thanks!