“You’re all fresh and in love and it’s a little much, to be honest.” Gretchen’s words were sharp, but she had been the one to push Suzie when Ford was fighting for her.
“Haters gonna hate,” Suzie said.
“Taters gonna potate.” Blithe nodded.
“I feel like we are talking about potatoes a lot tonight,” I said.
“We are all so very classy,” Suzie said. “We definitely deserve to be here.”
The room filled with laughter. Having the girls here was just what the doctor ordered. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. I thought again about what Devlin shared with me earlier, and how he needed success. It wasn’t just about what held me back anymore. After all, what’s the worst that could happen? Me helping him wouldn’t really change anything for me, but it could change everything for him. Give him what he wanted. Maybe I owed that to the universe.
“Time’s up, ladies.”
We all turned toward the hall where Devlin’s voice boomed out of nowhere. The hallway was shadowed so it was hard to make out anything except a gray man-shaped silhouette taking up most of the doorway to the hall.
“It’s getting late,” he finished in a slightly softer tone.
He looked and sounded intimidating, but that was what he did. That was his whole shtick. The girls all shared equal looks of shock and awe. He stepped forward so the light from the fire illuminated his mask. He was wearing the skull one again. It was decidedly ominous in the soft light of the night with the rain falling outside.
“Holy frijoles,” Gretchen muttered next to me.
After a moment I cleared my throat and slowly the girls stood and collected their things.
His gaze seared the side of my face. How long had he been standing there listening? I was desperate to see if he was looking only at me or if he was studying any of my equally lovely friends.
“Kim, you pick the next activity,” Roxy said.
“I don’t care. Whatever y’all pick is fine,” I said. “I just don’t know what my schedule is going to be like for a while,” I explained.
“Well, don’t lollygag too long.” Blithe hugged me. “We need updates about your beau.”
“Wait, another Winston brother?” Roxy said.
“No. Beau like boyfriend. Roddy,” Gretchen clarified.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Yet.” Blithe smiled sweetly.
“Thank you for coming,” Devlin said stiffly.
“Thanks for having us,” Suzie said. The others added to the sentiment.
“I’m happy to housesit anytime.” Gretchen pulled out a business card and handed to him.
He glanced over it before sliding it in his pocket with a nod.
“I’ll walk y’all out,” I said on a laugh, and brushed past Devlin.
Chapter 13
Never let them see your nerves.
DEVLIN
As the women gathered up their things, silence finally descended like a blessing. Even in my music room, twenty yards below ground, I had heard their chatter for the last few hours. Their laughs and yells leaked in as though carried through the pipes. I couldn’t think, let alone focus on composing. And then that damn crap pop song … in my house.
The room looked like a group of hobos had camped there for a weekend, not a few hours of chatty women. A whole pack of them.
Kim led the guests to the door, and chatted happily with the blonde.
“You didn’t mention the mask,” the blonde whispered.
I stilled in the shadow of the hallway as they retreated.
“He wears it all the time?” another asked.
“I sort of forgot about it,” Kim said.
“He’s a little scary.”
“Isn’t that the point?” the redhead shot back, loud enough to be heard. “Let us know about Roddy. I’m so happy for you. I know how much he means to you.”
I didn’t growl. At least, not very loudly.
Chagny. The second a star started to rise, people like him grasped the coattails and held on for dear life. The second she lost favor, he would drop her. But to play with her heart in addition to her career? That was obscene. I’d be having words with him. There were professional lines that shouldn’t be crossed.
Kim shut the door quietly behind her friends. My ears rang in the heavy silence. She turned around slowly.
“Okay. I want to warn you.” She lifted her head and met my eyes. She extended her arms out and took a tentative step toward me. “I’m going to hug you.”
I froze. “Why?”
“As a thank you. For bringing them here. Is that ok? Are you against hugs?”
I tried to relax my body.
“Hugs are fine,” I said.
She stepped closer.
“It’s the being accosted that I had an issue with,” I said lightly.
I worried that my teasing tone wouldn’t come through, but as her eyes narrowed, a small smile teased the edge of her mouth.
“You’re not going to let that go any time soon, are you?” she asked.
There was no need to answer, because as I was focused on the delicate shifts in her facial expressions, she removed any space between us.
“I’m going to hug you so hard.” She said it as a threat.
Awareness shot through me with that simple taunt. Like a music box wound up, I was suddenly filled with undeniable tension and had nowhere to release it. Then her arms wrapped around me. Her head rested on my chest. I wrapped my arms tightly around her back in return.
A small surprised gasp escaped her. “Oh.”
“I’m not against hugs.” My chest filled with sudden tension; the drum of my heart raced to an unheard tempo.
“Good to know,” she said.
How long was an acceptable time for a hug? I wasn’t sure. Probably a few seconds ago. I wasn’t about to let go. Nobody hugged the Devil of the Symphony. Not outside my family. This was nice. Unexpected. We should stay like this until the sun came up. She smelled a little like cider and camping. I breathed deeper. And maybe lightly of peonies. That scent, captured in a symphony, would make listeners feel the same warm comfort engulfing me now.
We broke apart slowly like the last note fading into the air.
“That was nice.” Her candidness was surprising, as she normally seemed so restrained.
I would try the same thing. “It was nice.”
She let out a long yawn. “That was a lovely evening. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You’re not a prisoner here. We’re helping each other.”
But did she think that? As much as I wanted to use my power to strong-arm her into playing for me, it would never work that way. The choice had to be hers. The music had to come from her.
I’d given her the space earlier. Brought her friends over in hopes of cheering her up. Now, I faced the very real possibility that she might pass on the opportunity. But I had to let her be strong enough to let me down.
The air was heavy, thick like the bellowing notes of an oboe.
She took a deep steadying breath. “Okay. I want to help you.” She filled her diaphragm a second time. “I will do it.”