“Listen, I like the guy.” Chagny pulled a pitying face. “But he can’t maintain a career anywhere. This will be his, what? Fifth conducting position? In as many years. It’s sad.”
The worst part about eavesdropping was hearing ugly truths about yourself.
The clarinetist left Kim’s side, and after several worried looks, she joined the gossiping group. “Be careful what you say.”
Carla rolled her eyes. “Or the Devil of the Symphony will get me?”
Erin frowned. “He’s our Maestro. He should be respected.”
Behind the conversation, Kim was now listening, though she tried to hide it. Her profile showed a worried frown, but she didn’t speak.
“Time to get back in our seats,” Erin warned, looking at the screen of her phone.
“He isn’t even here,” Carla said. “He’s off throwing a tantrum.”
“You have no idea where he is. You better be mindful of what you say.”
With that, I left the room. As I made my way back to the main floor, I debated as to why was Kim so intimidated by that foolish cellist. I still had a hard time accepting this quiet version of Kim. No, not Kim. Christine. The Kim I was beginning to know spoke her mind easily. Christine hid behind her instrument and played it safe. It was like she had split herself into two completely different people.
Well, I’d had enough.
I stalked into the room and cleared my throat at the podium. Carla and a few others were just getting back to their chairs.
“Chair auditions begin this week.”
The room went silent. I’d show them who was in control. I’d show them what happened when they crossed me. I would keep it until the end of the season, but that didn’t mean I had to make it easy on them.
I was the Devil of the Symphony.
Chapter 14
Keep your instrument in its case when not using it.
KIM
Devlin’s house was a bit of a drive even in the light of day. Yes, I had lived in Green Valley most of my life, but I’d never really paid attention to this area of the Smokies. I had almost turned the wrong way three times. I took my time and drove about fifteen miles an hour around the sharp back roads. It didn’t help that the rain was falling off and on in thick sheets and the temperature was falling rapidly. Seriously, wasn’t it supposed to be spring? Devlin’s house was at the top of a super steep hill with a treacherous driveway and even Mom’s brand-new BMW fishtailed a bit after a particularly sharp turn. By the time the car slid into his driveway, my palms were slick with sweat.
This past week had been exhausting. I couldn’t even think about the chair auditions. I’d done a thousand of them in my life, but they never stopped being terrifying. This audition had been before the Maestro and the board of directors. Thank goodness the rest of the symphony was not allowed to listen.
Tension had hung over the symphony as each musician took their chair test. Devlin’s temper had only ratcheted up with every passing day until there were talks of walkouts. All week, I’d come home and given cello lessons to my students. I was so exhausted by the time I ate dinner that I could barely make it to bed.
Anyway, it’d been a long week. I wanted to go home and binge watch bad TV until my brain melted. But first, I wanted to drop off my cello at Devlin’s house for our lesson the following day. I had made plans with Roddy when he’d brought me flowers to meet at Daisy’s Nut House the next morning and I felt weird about bringing my cello with me to the restaurant, or worse, leaving it in the car. Green Valley was mostly trustworthy but if an Iron Wraith strolled by and a ten-thousand-dollar cello was just sitting there unwatched … well, the good Lord only expects so much. And since I didn’t want to have to drive all the way back to my house to get it before I met with Devlin for our first official rehearsal, well, long story long, here I was at his house.
The only other time I had been here, I had been carried in mostly unconscious. Putting it that way didn’t sound fantastic. But now, having parked and stared up at the elaborate contemporary cabin without a real plan, an extreme case of nerves bubbled up. The house was really more of a small mansion. What’s in between a mansion and a house? My years of playing MASH as a child had not properly equipped me to answer that. It was bigger than my parent’s home, and they weren’t particularly modest when they built the 4000 square-foot home so far outside of Green Valley, it was almost to Maryville.
I hurried up the fancy slate stairs that lead to a solid-cut steel door, my cello on my back blocking me somewhat from the downpour. As I rang the doorbell, my finger slipped and didn’t push the button exactly in the middle. I spent the longest ten seconds of my life debating whether I should push it again and potentially come off as an eager beaver, or just drop my ten-thousand-dollar cello and run.
Thankfully, the door pulled open before I did something stupid. Stupider? More stupid? An attractive man in his late thirties tilted his head at me.
“Hello,” he said like we already knew each other. He was dashing like Chris Pratt—circa the Parks and Rec years, not all ripped like in the Jurassic Park movies—but with darker hair and eyes. His kind eyes flitted over my face and an easy smile formed. He was handsome enough that direct eye contact was difficult. Also, there was a familiarity to him. A furious blush spread on my cheeks. This was why I needed to get out more. I was a grown woman. This was ridiculous.
“Hi,” I said.
His eyes moved to the massive case I was carrying on my shoulder.
“Hi,” I repeated. “I’m Christine. Well, Kim, I guess.”
“You guess?” he asked with a wry smile.
“Yes.” I shook my head and started over. “I’m here for Devlin.”
“I gathered as much. We’ve met once. You probably don’t remember.” He stepped back, gesturing me in. “Come on in. It’s getting nasty out there.”
I smiled and entered the house, noticing two surprising things: the sound of voices carrying in from the kitchen, and the smell of onions and sauce. My mouth instantly watered.
The handsome man paused just inside the door.
“I’m Wes. Dev’s brother.”
Devlin had a brother? Why did this information come as such a shock to me? It conflicted with the image I had of him as a solitary grump that sprung from the earth and dwelled in the cold basements of buildings.
“Nice to meet you.” I glanced down at my jeans and plain green T-shirt and suddenly wished I had dressed a little better. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just came to drop my cello off before our session tomorrow. He told me I could bring it by.”
His smile was so easy and quick that my mind couldn’t process the fact that this man shared the same DNA as Devlin. If it weren’t for the same brown eyes and bushy eyebrows, I wouldn’t have believed it. Though to be fair, Devlin could be a big smiler; there was no way of knowing.
“You’re not intruding. It’s just Friday family dinner. Please set that down—it’s almost as big as you.” He took the cello from my shoulder and set it gently near a hall tree.
Friday family dinner? The mind-blown emojis just kept coming.