The Maestro, Page 8

  Despite the cold, my face burned as I hurried toward my apartment. “He did not sleep with me. We haven’t done…that.”

  Glory huffed, and I imagined her fluffing her brown spiral curls as she did when she was exasperated. “I thought for sure that’s what happened. He’s not known for being chaste or having a long attention span.”

  I didn’t want to hear about Kieran’s exploits, and now cold coffee soaked my pants. “It’s complicated.”

  “Is it complicated because you told him you loved him and he rejected you?”

  “No! I can’t tell him.” Was that an admission that I did love him?

  “I have two decades more experience with men than you and two additional marriages. Believe me when I tell you that you have to be blunt. If you want him to know, then you need to tell him.”

  “That’s crazy. You know he can’t handle that. I don’t want him to know.” We’d had that one weird conversation where he’d told me he couldn’t be mine the way I wanted him to be, and I’d handled his subtle rejection. To ignore that and then heap on that I loved him bordered on utter stupidity and asking to be hurt again.

  “You underestimate him. You’ve got him in the corner now. He’s had to face it. He knows what he feels for you. He needs the opportunity to tell you.”

  I’d considered these possibilities. What would happen if I told him the truth and he said he loved me too? Could we be lovers? Together? Married? Have children together? My uterus lurched at the idea, and my ovaries did a little jig. “I don’t want him to feel cornered and trapped. But please, Glory, don’t tell anyone about this.” I entered my apartment and shut the door behind me, locking it.

  “I haven’t. I’ve held my tongue. But I hate seeing this.”

  A long pause. “Do you think he’d react well?”

  “He’ll react. He cares for you. He might not say it often, but he cares. I don’t think he’ll slaughter your feelings.”

  But he could reject me. He already had in a roundabout way. “Give me time to think about it.”

  “About telling him or about the trip? Because he’s here today at the hall. Security said he never left last night and has been playing since after the performance.”

  He had to be exhausted. Not for the first time, he’d play until he passed out. “I’ll think about both. But I was mostly thinking about the trip.”

  I could make the selfish decision and stay in New York. Or I could go on the trip and be pulled back into Kieran’s world where I’d get my heart broken all over again.

  * * *

  After changing my coffee-spattered pants, I grabbed my backpack and tablet and walked to the symphony hall.

  I wanted to be changed and noticeably different, as if I’d become someone else in the time since I’d stopped working for him, someone who was over him entirely.

  But it had only been one day since Kieran had seen me, and change didn’t happen that fast.

  Kieran was inside, and that knowledge settled over me. Tension wound around my shoulders.

  I entered, pulling open one of the black-metal-framed doors, and waved at the security guard.

  Louis straightened on his stool and greeted me warmly. “What brings you here?” His smile brightened, his dimples deepening, and the sunlight streaming in glinted off his smooth black hair tied at the back of his neck with a band.

  “I’m going to meet with the Maestro.”

  “Are you coming back to work for him?” Hope lifted his voice.

  Possibly, but no. Working for him was firmly wired in my brain as “being in love with him.” “Wrapping up a few things.”

  Louis moved around the security desk. “We miss you.”

  Emotion tightened my throat. “I miss you all too.”

  Louis and I had shared great conversations late into the night. He’d once played the drums in a rock and roll band. Like most of us, he loved music.

  I stood outside the main hall, where I could hear Kieran playing on the perfectly tuned shiny black grand piano. I almost changed my mind about talking to him.

  The chords and notes were beautiful. I closed my eyes and listened. I didn’t recognize the melody, either something he’d written or a new piece.

  Quietly, I went inside and mouthed I love you, something I’d started doing years before when he couldn’t see or hear me. It was a way to let it out, to keep that strong emotion from tearing me apart.

  I tried to walk silently, but my footsteps echoed through the empty hall.

  He turned and stood, shielding his eyes from the overhead lights to peer out into the hall. “Rae.”

  His white dress shirt had come half untucked and his black pants were wrinkled. A white scarf hung over his shoulder, as if he’d started to remove it, then forgot.

  I tried not to think about walking down the aisle toward him, that term too closely associated with being married, and how this would be the perfect place for us to get married.

  I hadn’t had enough sleep or caffeine, and clearly had not had enough time away from him to be hard and calloused. Vanessa was nowhere in sight.

  “How was your night?” Anxiety tinged his voice.

  “A year’s worth of dates and absolutely terrible.”

  “I’m sorry. What was wrong with them?”

  Was he sorry? “No connection with them. I think I have the wrong clothes and hair.”

  “That’s crazy. Did you tell them about the music?”

  I ached to run the scarf through my fingers, and then down his shirt to let my fingers learn the shape of his body.

  “They didn’t want to hear about the music. They wanted someone else.” The big-breasted woman. She had to make someone see beyond the boobs, which had to be as frustrating as trying to make someone see me as worthwhile without the boobs.

  I sat on the edge of the stage. Kieran plunked down next to me. “I can’t sleep. I don’t want to go home.”

  Our shoulders brushed, and my skin prickled. “You were on a music bender. When you do that, it messes with you.”

  He elbowed me lightly in the ribs. “The coffee you made me had too much caffeine.”

  I laughed. “That too.” The end of his scarf tickled my hand, and I touched the edge of it. “Glory wants me to travel with the orchestra,” I said.

  His eyes blazed with intensity. “I’m not doing well without you. I know it. The people around me know it. It’s embarrassing, really.”

  “What’s the problem?” I asked. Could we talk this through? Could I help him see that he didn’t need me? His previous assistant had been a woman in her sixties. Before she’d retired, she’d told me she hadn’t been indulgent with him and had kept strong boundaries.

  He and I hadn’t had boundaries.

  He stabbed his fingers into his messy hair, adding to the disarray. “I don’t have an assistant who helps. She doesn’t like the music. She doesn’t care about the music. Slowly, over time, I see that you did more for me than I’d realized. I took you for granted. These small things every day are gone, and I’m trying to adjust. I know that you wanted to leave me, but it’s taking me time, and I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to having you gone.”

  Leave him. He’d fixated on that idea. I touched the back of his hand with my fingertips. “I’m not gone. I’m here now.”

  He set his palm on the side of my face, cupping my cheek. “You think I don’t know that I lost you, and somehow I’m still losing you?”

  My heart fluttered. I could scarcely draw a full breath. He cared. Glory had said he’d let me know how he felt. Best friends. Were we more? He might not have a clear definition of the relationship I wanted, as if it was something he’d never seen, and therefore he couldn’t give it to me.

  He dropped his hand and gripped the edge of the stage instead, his knuckles going white.

  “Did you ask Glory to call me?” I asked.

  Disbelief registered on his face. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”

  I swallowed hard, pushing away the
tightness in my throat. “Do you want me there?”

  “You want me to say that I don’t, but I like the honesty between us. I want to tell you the truth. I do.” His gaze slammed into mine. “I always want you with me.” The fire in his voice matched the heat in his eyes.

  I needed to throw some emotional daggers or else he’d pull me in. “That’s not true. Do you remember after the performances when patrons would swarm all over you? You wanted to be alone with them. You wanted me to go away so you could do whatever it is that you do with them alone in your hotel room or theirs.”

  “I didn’t want to be alone with them, but I know my job. My job is to speak with them and make them feel special. They didn’t come with me to my hotel room. Not always.”

  He’d done more than talk. I’d seen those women, and I’d seen him leave with them. “Was it your job to have sex with them?”

  His eyes turned flat and cold. “I don’t have sex for money or for donations to the symphony. I have sex when I feel passion. When I meet a woman who stirs me, moves me, makes me feel the connection. I don’t have rules about it. I don’t need a certain number of dates or arbitrary time knowing someone. I follow my instincts and what I feel.”

  “You have no rules?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Nothing hard and fast. Don’t mistake that for not having a moral compass.”

  Except I was off-limits. Or maybe, and this depressed the hell outta me, he found me cold, boring, and passionless. “I don’t want to travel with you.” Defensive anger flashed in my tone.

  “Glory shouldn’t have put you in the position to say no to me again.”

  “You weren’t the one asking,” I said.

  “We both know she’s asking for me. She sees me struggling. But I’ll keep moving forward. It’ll take time, that’s all.”

  His response confused me. Lately, every time I talked to him, the rush of mixed-up emotions was too scattered to interpret. “What do you think when you see me?”

  He let his gaze move up and down my body, flickering with blistering provocation. “I think you’re my best friend, and you’re going through something, and it kills me that you won’t tell me what it is. It’s making me worry that perhaps you’re sick or you’re in trouble and won’t let me help.”

  “You can’t help with this.”

  “I don’t know what’s up or down. You’ve been showing interest in dating. At some point, it’ll happen. The right man, the right time, and that’ll be it. I’ll be playing at your wedding.”

  That comment destroyed me. Highlighting how much I was pining for him. “Right. Playing at my wedding. You. When I get married, I’m eloping, and I doubt you’ll be there.” I wanted to bash any image he had in mind of me happy at a wedding while he played his piano, his love and his life.

  “You’re angry. Tell me why. I know it’s something I’ve done. I talked to Glory about this. She all but told me I’d done something. But I’ve thought about it, and I don’t know what.” Then he took my hands in his. He pressed his lips to my knuckles and rolled my hands over to kiss my palms. He kissed me on each cheek. “I don’t know how else to show affection to you. I play music for you. I think of you. I dream of you. You want me to be someone else.”

  He brought his mouth close to mine, his lips inches away. I could almost feel the brush of his skin.

  If he kissed me, my hard work of building a wall between us would be for nothing. I’d lose my progress. But God, I wanted his mouth on mine. To kiss him with everything I had in my soul, to sink deep into him and blot out the rest of the world.

  With strength I didn’t know I had, I moved away.

  “Oh, thank God, you’re speaking.” Glory’s strong soprano voice came from the back of the hall.

  Kieran didn’t take his eyes off me. “We’ve been speaking, but she won’t tell me anything.”

  Glory strode toward us, her heels clicking against the floor. Her curly hair bounced with every step, and her hips swung, accentuating her narrow waist and long, lean swimsuit-model legs. “We have a matinee today. Will you stay, Rae?”

  I shook my head. “I have work to do. Lesson plans. Grad school applications.”

  Two sets of eyes lit, and I swore inwardly. I hadn’t meant to give that away. Grad school was for me, not for anyone else to interfere.

  Kieran had thrown me. He got people to share secrets they’d intended to keep to themselves.

  “Graduate school? You want to go to school? To study music?” he asked.

  “To study music. I’m thinking about it,” I said.

  His eyes shone with excitement. “Where?”

  I swallowed. “I haven’t decided. I don’t want either of you to call people, though. If I apply and I’m accepted, I want it to be for me. Just me. Not because I know you.”

  Kieran swung up onto the stage and rose to his full height. “A new challenge. That’s what you need.” He said it as if he’d figured it out, as if I’d given away the reason for leaving.

  If he wanted to believe it was about school, then fine. It got me off the hot seat.

  Glory said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. But please think about what we spoke about. I’ll make it worth your time. Grad school won’t be cheap.”

  Dollar signs flashed in my mind, a huge help for class fees or a new place, but I didn’t know if it was worth the risk to my heart and sanity. “I have to go. I’ll let you know about the trip.” I grabbed my stuff and hurried away from them. With more pressure and incentives, I’d have caved and agreed to go on the tour with the orchestra.

  Glory and Kieran spoke in murmurs, but I didn’t stay. I wanted to see the matinee performance, but he was making it too hard.

  If I didn’t leave then, I never would.

  7

  Kieran was hosting a Christmas party.

  I almost fell over when I received the invitation. Despite his love of Christmas, he’d never once, in five years, held a soiree, and more shockingly, it was at his house. To add insult to injury, Vanessa was cohosting the party, her name on the invitation and everything. Vanessa!

  For everyone in the music community, being invited into the Maestro’s home was an exclusive event. The guest list would be high net-worth individuals, famous faces, and the best musical talent on the East Coast. And me. I’d made the guest list, a move by Vanessa to win me over. Or maybe Glory had insisted.

  Kieran hadn’t mentioned the party to me, but we’d only spoken once this week, and I’d had to end the conversation because of my class schedule. I missed talking to him, but work was my companion and filling out graduate school applications was my hobby.

  I planned to attend the Christmas party. The holidays were a busy time for the orchestra. In addition to holiday performances and shows, they also made appearances at various shopping events and parties.

  If I didn’t go tonight, I might not see Kieran before Christmas, and that idea made the world seem to slow down when I thought about it too long.

  I’d declined the invitation to travel with the orchestra as firmly as I could without being outright rude. I needed to focus on my job, which I loved more every day, my school applications, and my burgeoning personal life. Any day now, I’d meet a handsome man, sparks would fly, and I’d have a love life to juggle too.

  The orchestra would leave for Vienna, Austria on January second, and then I wouldn’t see Kieran for close to a month. The time apart would be good for us.

  At this party, unlike many others, the Maestro wasn’t financing my outfit. My teacher’s budget would only cover an off-the-rack dress or something I’d worn before. Everyone else would be wearing brand-new couture.

  Given our disparate incomes and that attendance at events had been part of my job, Kieran used to buy the dresses I wore. Someone would bring a selection, and he’d tell me to pick one, and a tailor would make it work on my frame.

  If I looked gorgeous at the party, Kieran would see me in a sensual way, a decidedly nonfriendship way, and he’d yearn for me and
be totally unable to have me. Not want me as a great assistant or a talented coworker, but as a woman who cared about him, who saw beyond his fame, an enthralling woman with grace and beauty who’d slipped beyond his reach. A black dress over a push-up bra and high heels, with my shapewear beneath, would emphasize my best features.

  I couldn’t afford a car either, so imagine my surprise when one showed up in front of my apartment, Nathan behind the wheel.

  “Hey, Rae. How’s life treating you?” Nathan asked.

  A surge of sheer joy went through me. I hadn’t wanted to walk in the cold, and I enjoyed Nathan’s company. “I can’t complain.”

  Nathan had the heat at the perfect setting and Christmas carols playing softly.

  When I arrived at Kieran’s house, I thanked Nathan for the ride and steeled my nerves. I tried not to be self-conscious about being one of the few single women walking to the front door. My invitation hadn’t included a plus one. If it had, I could’ve brought Greg, even though we’d run into each other when he was returning on a date with another woman, thereby cementing our friends-only status.

  The front of Kieran’s house was awash in white Christmas lights and spotlights that made the house glow. Greenery had been draped over the windowsills and the front door, tied with red velvet bows. Even the lamppost in front of his house had a small red bow tied to it.

  The main floor of the house had been rearranged. Furniture had been cleared away and the lighting adjusted, and music, well, the acoustics didn’t need to be changed. It was the most artfully decorated house. I doubted that Kieran had done this himself. Had Vanessa performed this party miracle?

  Vanessa greeted me with a hug as if we were longtime friends. Her green dress shimmered as she moved, and she’d accentuated the shape of her oval eyes with dark eyeliner. “We need to talk later. I have so much to tell you.”

  “Sounds great.” It didn’t. It sounded terrible. I didn’t want to gossip with her.