Now, any other Tuesday would have found the odd couple slipping away unnoticed a few minutes before eleven, which was when the show usually ended. On this particular Tuesday, however, Patrick and Bridget decided to stick around because Patrick...had an idea.
As per custom, Deandra made her way around to all the occupied tables, shaking a hand here, giving a hug there, sharing a laugh and thanking, thanking, thanking whoever it was for turning up and showing so much love, much appreesh.
During her rounds she shot a glance here and there towards Patrick and Bridget's table and then once she was done with the others, casually made her way over to them. The odd couple stood up to meet her.
"I was wondering when you guys would stick around long enough for me to come and say hi. I've seen you here. Every Tuesday for like the last six months."
Deandra had a British accent and every word was pronounced with a certain degree of exactness.
She wore nothing on her feet, still barefoot from the show, black leggings, an army green skirt that stopped mid-thigh, a black wife beater and an assortment of beady jewellery that dangled from her wrists, her neck and her ears.
Bridget liked her instantly.
"We think your'e amazing." She blurted. "You have such a beautiful voice. How long have you been singing?"
Placing a hand just above her heart, Deandra thanked Bridget humbly,
"and for as long as I can remember."
"And saxophone? How long have you been playing saxophone?" Patrick added.
Deandra gave him the subtle once over.
Now although she didn't think herself a superficial woman and although he did seem quite nice, Deandra still couldn't help but ask herself why a girl that looked like Her would be hanging out with a guy that looked liked Him.
Deandra silently shrugged to herself, maybe it was the sex.
"I've been playing the sax since I was about 8. My father bought me my first one for my 8th birthday. I still have it actually. I don't play it of course, it's just one of those things you keep, you know what I mean?"
Both Patrick and Bridget nodded; they did, they did know what she meant.
"Ummm, so how much do you charge to perform a show?" Bridget inquired.
She asked this a little apologetically. As if she didnt really want to but the question couldnt really be avoided. Sweet. Deandra saw it for what it really was though, a play at innocence to drive the asking price down. If only just a little bit. Deandra was certain of this because she did the same thing whenever she went to buy shoes, dresses, whatever.
No dice.
"We play for 1.5."
Which was a lie. They actually played for 1.2 but it was always better to start high and work your way down. Or that's at least what she had been told.
"And how about for just you?"
This was Patrick.
"I don't play without my band." Deandra answered, "There wouldn't be any reason to."
"What if we could give you one?" Patrick intoned. He was all smooth confidence.
"And what answer would that be?"
"1.5. Just for you."
Hmmmm, so he has money, Deandra mused to herself. That actually made a lot of sense.
Now even though Deandra's warning bell went off at the same time as the Cha-Ching of her internal cash register, she couldn't help but be intrigued. It was 1.3 million more than she would make from a normal gig after all. The thing was, what was the catch?
"How many people would I be playing for?"
At this, the couple exchanged a glance, not a good sign. Deandra had a feeling she knew what the answer was going to be but willed herself to wait for it before deciding on anything.
It was Bridget who answered.
"Just us."
Yep, she knew it. These two were psychopaths. They were going to kidnap her, rap her, kill her, (or maybe they would rape her after they killed her, who knew with people these days?) rip out her vocal cords and put them in a zesta jar. Lord knew she was not about to let that happen. Heeeeeeeeell to the no. She still had a whole lot of singing to do.
"Um, I'm not quite sure I'm comfortable with that." She said cautiously.
"We're not a couple of of psychopaths." Bridget answered reassuringly as if reading Deandra's mind.
"We just thought it would be cool, you know? And if we can; well, why not right?" Bridget continued with a shrug.
Deandra was almost convinced. Plus, she was just being paranoid wasn't she? Kidnapping and murder? This was Uganda, not some Hollywood movie. She did tend to let her imagination run away from her at times, Deandra admitted to herself. And then there was the fact that the money wasn't all that bad either. But again, seeing as they were willing to pay 1.5...maybe they would be willing to pay,
"2 Million and you have yourself a deal."
Bridget looked at Patrick who seemed to take a moment to think about it. Mental calculations and all of that. In the end, it was his decision.
"Deal." came his reply a few moments later.
"There's just probably one thing you should know upfront though."
Creased forehead.
"And what's that?"
"We want you to do only Rihanna songs."
Deandra's expression smoothed into a slight smile.
"I have no problem with that, I love Rihanna."
The couple exchanged glances again. This time less anxious, more relieved.
"Good," Bridget said, placing a hand on Patrick's arm,
"because we love her too."
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