The Maestro, Page 6

  He turned his hands over and linked his fingers with mine. “I need to ask before you do—”

  “He didn’t rape me,” I said.

  Kieran nodded. “I believe you. I’ll believe anything you tell me.” The expression on his face spoke volumes. “I’ll wait here.”

  I showered, letting the water run to cold, which amounted to about fifteen minutes. I could stand in the shower at Kieran’s for forty minutes and still have hot water. Here, it’d take a good three hours to get hot again. When I moved to a new place, I’d check out the hot water situation first.

  When I finished, Kieran handed me a clean towel and waited, facing the wall, while I dressed. Kieran could be dense about some things and damn thoughtful about others.

  My place consisted of one giant room and the tiny bathroom. I couldn’t dress in there unless I stood on the toilet. After my T-shirt and cotton pants had everything covered, I ran a comb through my hair. The strands made the back of my shirt wet, but I lacked the stamina to run the hair dryer.

  Then he tucked me into bed.

  He knelt on the floor next to me and rubbed the back of his neck as if it ached. “You’re precious to me. I always took care of you, didn’t I?”

  I touched the side of his face. “You did. Always. Still do.”

  He unsnapped another button of his shirt and plucked at the fabric.

  “It gets hot in here sometimes,” I said, rolling onto my side and tucking my hands beneath my pillow.

  “I noticed.”

  “I don’t like being cold.”

  “I know that too. Do you know when you first moved here, your mother called me? You’d just accepted the job and hadn’t started yet.”

  “My mother called you? She never said anything to me about that.”

  “She told me that you were young and beautiful and terribly naïve. So I accepted it as part of my job to watch over you.” He winced and shook his head. “I screwed up.”

  “You did watch over me. Tonight was something horrible. It wasn’t your fault. I wasn’t working for you tonight.”

  Kieran brought his face close to mine. “You’re brave and strong, but I’ve worried about you many nights.”

  “This is a safe neighborhood.”

  He gestured around. “This world. Men don’t treat women with the reverence and respect they deserve.”

  Most of my friends had had at least one terrible altercation with a man. I was lucky this had been my first and I’d escaped relatively unscathed.

  “Do you want to talk about that monster again?”

  I didn’t. The number of times I’d spoken of him to the police had helped get it through to my shaken nerves and rattled heart that I’d survived. “Hold me?” I patted the bed next to me.

  Kieran got into the bed and pulled me against him. “I swear, when you’re with me, I’ll never let anything bad happen to you.”

  I shifted into the nook between his arm and his body, laying my hand over his chest and draping my thigh across his. He lay in my bed with me, and while nothing would happen, not tonight and not ever, I’d accept what I had with him and realize he’d been right.

  He really was my best friend.

  5

  The first two weeks at my new job were over.

  Could I call it a new job anymore? Or would those nervous jitters that swept over me every time I walked through the front doors finally stop? I had to prove myself, and while having worked with Kieran carried weight, the music industry was tough, and the Monarch School could find plenty of musicians searching for a stable gig with benefits.

  I needed to produce and show the administration I could inspire these students to be their best. The entire school put together a Christmas program, which would consume the rest of the classes until the winter break and include after-school rehearsals. Apparently, at the Monarch School, the Christmas pageant was legendary…so, no pressure.

  I was packing my bag to leave for the day when my boss stopped me.

  “We’re heading out to grab a drink. Interested in joining us?” Brendan asked.

  The entire music department stood collecting their coats and bags. I should say yes. They were welcoming me into their group!

  But I had a ticket for speed dating at a nearby hotel. Twenty dates in forty-five minutes. A good chance to quickly screen out anyone not right for me. I saw Greg now and then, but our relationship existed firmly in the Friend Zone. It hadn’t progressed to attraction, and we both knew it.

  “Next time for sure. I have an appointment that’s too late to cancel.” I prayed he wouldn’t ask for specifics.

  “Are you meeting up with the Maestro?”

  Several people drifted closer, trying to appear like they weren’t intently listening. The tips of my ears burned. “No, not with him.”

  Brendan’s thick shoulders dropped. “Too bad. I’ve been hoping he’d stop by.”

  Stop by where I work? A total distraction for everyone. “I’ll mention that next time I see him.”

  Except I would not be mentioning that ever. I’d started this new life and wanted boundaries.

  I’d spent the last five years pining for Kieran, and I didn’t have extra time to waste on more dead ends. Hence, when I’d read the social media post about speed dating, I’d discreetly checked into it.

  We shuffled out into the cold, and I headed for the subway, adjusting my aqua scarf around my neck. I’d picked it to accentuate my eye color. Growing up, my father had commented that his favorite color on my mother was blue because it made her eyes sparkle. I could use some sparkle tonight.

  My phone buzzed with Kieran’s landline number. Clearing my throat, I answered.

  “Rae? This is Vanessa. I’m the Maestro’s personal assistant.”

  Vanessa, the woman who’d replaced me. The word “personal” grated on me, and an instant dislike for her sprung up through me. “Hi, Vanessa. What can I do for you?”

  The Maestro and I were friends now. We traveled across that booby-trapped field between professional and friendship, trying not to step on any landmines. I could be civil to his assistant. Our friendship counted on it. She’d get close to him, and therefore, if I saw him, I’d see her as well.

  “He’s been in his music room for a long time. Like, three days.”

  Three days? Surely he’d left for food. Or a shower. “Where are you?”

  “Outside the door.”

  My mind churned over the possibilities. “You’ve been waiting outside the door for three days?”

  She huffed. “I worked my eight hours, and then I went home. But I’ve come back the last two days, and he’s still in there. I can hear notes every now and then.”

  Kieran’s music room was soundproofed to minimize noise, but loud ones got through. He’d get a burst of inspiration and go inside and forget important stuff, like eating and brushing his teeth.

  He’d not written or performed anything original in two years, and the pressure mounted every season for him to present an amazing new piece.

  I guessed on the other side of those ten-foot doors prowled a very hungry, moody, and stinky Kieran. “He has a bathroom in there. He’ll be okay.”

  Although, worry nagged at me and uncertainty weighed on me. In the past, I’d taken care of him when inspiration struck and he couldn’t leave the piano. I assisted without interfering by bringing sharp pencils and water, or by shoving pieces of protein bars into his mouth. “You could check on him.”

  “The door’s locked.”

  “There’s a key on the hook in the kitchen next to the butler’s pantry.”

  Her heels tapped across the floor. “So just go in there?”

  “Or leave him. He’s a grown man. He’ll figure it out.” He’d eventually emerge. Or he could’ve come out while she wasn’t there. Maybe he was avoiding her.

  Come to think of it, he hadn’t called me in three days. He’d messaged twice while I’d been at work to check on me, but I’d kept my responses brief.

  N
ow my concern amplified.

  Vanessa sighed. “Can you come over and show me what to do? I get that he’s some type of mad genius, but he’s not easy to deal with. Glory keeps asking me for status reports, and what am I supposed to tell her? That he’s locked in a room and I have no clue what’s going on? He’s supposed to be at a performance tonight. Do you think he’ll come out for that?” The whine in her voice grated on me.

  “Glory understands the challenges of working with Kieran. You can be honest with her.” Given Glory’s power and position, having her as an ally only helped. “He was hard on me too. If he has a performance, he knows. He’ll be there.” Although the odds of him being on time and wearing the right thing were a bit of a toss-up.

  “Please, I know you don’t know me and that you’re busy and you have this new job and lots to do, but I could use the help. It’s the end of the week, and I feel like a failure. I’ve never failed at anything, but this is impossible.”

  That last comment almost had me hanging up the phone on her.

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. But I worried about Kieran, especially after what’d happened with Charlie. I’d been thinking about it since it’d happened, sleeping lighter, waking to small noises, which, in my neighborhood, happened every fifteen minutes.

  Kieran would be thinking about his mom, and that would dredge up plenty of traumatic nastiness.

  And, even though jealousy consumed me, it mingled with pity. I remembered the maelstrom of emotions and scrambled, topsy-turvy thoughts that had accompanied working for Kieran at first. His moods vacillated day to day, and I’d kept worrying he’d lose it and I’d be responsible.

  My feet knew the location by heart, but I hailed a cab because I didn’t want to walk the street alone, even in the daytime. I had Charlie to thank for that. A burst of anger filled me with restless energy.

  I arrived at Kieran’s in fifteen minutes, punched in the security code and walked inside.

  The foyer gleamed the same way it had the day I’d left. The windows were smudge-free and the kitchen scrubbed spotless. The music room was tucked behind the kitchen.

  My heart fell at the wrecked state of the living room, located next to the music room. Vanessa hadn’t puzzled out the gist of being the Maestro’s assistant. The job didn’t come with a set schedule or a comprehensive list of tasks. She should do whatever needed doing.

  He had a housekeeping service that came three times a week to clean the kitchen and bathrooms, but he didn’t like anyone except me touching his stuff.

  Music scores lay scattered across the floor in the living room, some of them torn up. Empty, stained mugs littered the coffee table. By the state of the pillows and blankets twisted on the couch and floor, he’d been sleeping in this space. A pile of laundry sat on the floor.

  His exhaustion could be so complete, he hadn’t taken the stairs to his bedroom to sleep. Or he’d told himself he’d rest on the couch, and then had closed his eyes and fallen asleep for a few hours.

  My first glimpse of Vanessa rocked me back on my heels. She was gorgeous, tall and lithe, with straight brown hair and striking green eyes. Confident and polished, with sultry eyes lined with black kohl that probably brought men to their knees, she was dressed to perfection and wore heels. Sky-high heels. I tamped down my unreasonable jealousy.

  “Rae? Thank God you’re here.” Gold bracelets jangled on her wrist. That and the clicking of her heels had to drive Kieran nuts. He hated clinking and clanging while he worked, his supersensitive ears picking up the slightest noises.

  “I don’t have long. I have a ticket for something tonight.” I didn’t want to tell her the ticket was for a speed-dating session. “But I can help. Being the Maestro’s assistant is like learning to play a very temperamental but very beautiful instrument.”

  She smiled and wiped at her eyes. A small bit of eyeliner smeared to her left temple. He’d hate that too. “Is he autistic?”

  I sucked in my breath. “Did you ask him that?”

  She crossed her arms over her ample breasts and pouted. “Yes.”

  I tried to compose my thoughts on a sensitive topic that needed careful handling. “What did he say?”

  She rolled her eyes and huffed. “He ignored me. I’m trying to understand what’s going on. He’s so unusual.”

  “The Maestro is a genius. That comes with other challenges.” I’d suspected if he’d been born twenty years later than he was, he might’ve been diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum. He’d mentioned having social struggles at school, but I’d never asked him about it in the present since he seemed to get along with everyone. He also donated generously to several autism advocacy and research groups. I left it at that. “Don’t try to put a name to him. Try to go with the flow. His flow, not yours.”

  I listened at the door, closing my eyes to hear clearly. The rushed but clear notes of a piano piece came faintly to my ears, so this wasn’t the time to walk in. “I’ll make him an omelet and some coffee. My trick is to replace the creamer with whole milk and sugar. He needs the calories.”

  She set her hand on her curvy hip below the slender dip of her waist. “He says he doesn’t drink whole milk.”

  I winked at her and grinned, then set my hand to the side of my mouth as if imparting a great secret. “He doesn’t know what’s in his coffee. That’s our secret, okay?” I gestured around at the mess. “While I do that, please pick up in the living room. I’ll show you later how to file his music, even the stuff he rips up, in case he changes his mind. We need to start his laundry.”

  “You do his laundry?”

  “He doesn’t like dry cleaners except for dress clothes when necessary. Your choices with his laundry are to do it or leave it until it stinks up the entire house, at which point you have to throw it out and buy him new clothes.”

  She inclined her head. “Just throw out the clothes?”

  No sense of humor. “I’m joking. We’re going to wash them.”

  I started making him an omelet and hated myself a little for getting sucked back into this. Except the routine came easily to me, and I tried to ignore the sense I belonged here.

  Had he talked Vanessa into tricking me into coming over? She didn’t seem like she’d intended to trap me, but I didn’t know her job history. She could be an actress.

  Then again, I thought what had happened with Charlie had hit the Maestro hard, and he’d gone deep into the music, deeper than usual.

  Vanessa needed to pull him out firmly, shake him, slap him, something to bring him back into eating and sleeping like normal.

  When his food was ready and plated, I waited at the door. From the banging at the keys, this wasn’t the right time.

  While I waited, I dealt with his laundry that Vanessa had gathered into a heaping basket. Sort, treat spots, arrange, zipper, unbutton. I paused when I picked up a pair of blue-and-gray socks I’d knitted for him last Christmas. I thought he’d have thrown them out. I’d never seen him wear them.

  “What are those? Delicates?” Vanessa had come up behind me. Her floral perfume invaded my senses.

  “Very delicate.” I set them to the side.

  “How do you handle him? He’s eccentric and crazy.”

  Defensiveness boiled up inside me, raising my blood pressure, but I beat it back, trying for understanding. She wasn’t in love with him and therefore found it harder to be patient. “He’s eccentric, but he’s also very sweet. Once he gets to know you, he’ll do the most charming things.”

  Vanessa lifted her brow. “Like what?”

  Like taking me out for my birthday to a world-famous bakery to have three special tiny cakes prepared by the head baker, a friend of his. One vanilla, one chocolate, and one strawberry confection, perfect little treats, which we split and ate together.

  He’d given me a pashmina his mother had woven. The colors and detailing were gorgeous.

  Kieran often lived in the limelight. Big parties were thrown in his honor. But I hated attention,
at least from crowds, and so he found ways to celebrate with me that were private and perfect. Those moments were branded into my heart. “He won’t give you a scented candle or a bottle of lotion and wish you a happy birthday. He’ll get you a nice, thoughtful gift.” That was the most I could say about him and his sweetness and consideration. Thinking of him doing something special for Vanessa made the back of my throat taste bitter.

  Christmas was coming, and he liked Christmas. It put him in a better mood.

  “How do you get him to attend events?” Vanessa asked.

  “What events? Like rehearsals?”

  Kieran could be spacey about schedules but was diligent about attending rehearsals and performances. He understood his job.

  “Not stuff with the orchestra. I get these invitations in the mail. He says he doesn’t want to go to any of them. But when I call in his regrets, I get cold responses and am asked to reconsider.”

  I winced. Glory should’ve explained. “When you get invited to an event, if it’s from one of the symphony’s patrons, you must make arrangements for Kieran. Get him a tuxedo and put it on his schedule. If it’s not a patron, a general event around town that he doesn’t want to attend, you can send his regrets for those, but always send something on the day. Put it on your calendar so you remember.”

  Vanessa rubbed her forehead. “Then what happens when he won’t go?”

  “He’ll go if it’s important. He knows how the symphony runs. He doesn’t want to think about those details. He wants you to think about them.”

  Then silence filled the house. I hurried to grab the key to the music room and handed Vanessa the plate of food and the cup of coffee. “Go in, set this on the small table behind the piano. Ignore him and start cleaning up. Then he’ll get distracted by you moving around in there and eat.” I unlocked the door. “Go.” I gave her a light shove.

  Vanessa teetered on her heels, but entered and did as I said.

  Kieran said nothing. I peered at them through the crack between the wall and the door. He barely acknowledged her. I couldn’t see his face without giving away my presence, but I waited.