Just a few seconds ago he wanted to impress her, now he felt the need to be humble. He wasn't actually going through every page again.
"I'm going over my personal highlights," he said.
"When I tried to read it," she said, glancing at the papers again, "because I must confess, I didn't manage to get through every bit of it, I was reading Churchill in parallel."
She couldn't possibly find the documents more interesting than their conversation. When Vy had introduced them, she mentioned that Alice was his fan. Until that moment, he hadn't quite believed it. But he couldn't stop to analyze that. He had to find out more about her. Time to open up more to draw her out more.
"A History of the English-Speaking Peoples by any chance?"
"How do you know?" she asked.
Amazing. What were the odds of her reading Churchill along with Gibbon? Quite big, if he had to be honest. He'd found the suggestion in one of her father's books, but he never expected to find someone in his world who had noticed that suggestion, let alone follow it.
He took out his phone and swiped his fingers over it to find the eboook reader. He showed her the screen with Churchill's book open. She looked from the screen up to him.
"Wow!"
"What are you reading now?" he asked.
Alice sighed, and put down the pen.
"Marcus Aurelius. The curriculum this year will be heavy on Latin and I'm slogging through his Meditations while we're still on summer holiday to prepare, in case Andrew wants me here after school starts in October."
If Andrew wanted her there… How the hell did that guy manage to fool the smartest women about his real nature? Christine. Vy. Alice. Christine had finally left King after many years of marriage. He wondered what had finally opened her eyes. At least he had managed to snatch Vy from him in time. Maybe he could lure away Alice, too.
"Your major is history or archaeology?"
"History. I'm not very outdoorsy and I have this... knack for dead languages. Maybe that's why I'm so good when it comes to legalese," she said sheepishly and went back to writing.
"A woman of many talents."
He used more than a spoonful of honey when he said it. She started at his words, and the pen left an ugly smudge on the paper.
"History, languages, and, of course, music," he went on. "King wouldn't bring someone on his team if he didn't think they were excellent musicians."
She didn't rise to the bait. She didn't get angry or defensive. Her tone was mildly amused, but partly understanding.
"You don't like Andrew," she said. "Let's not talk about him."
"Don't you want to know why I don't like him?" he asked, wondering how much of King's unsavory past he should tell her to get a more intense reaction.
"Do you want to know why I like him?" she asked.
He had to accept defeat in this skirmish. He did not want to hear her paint a rosy tinted portrait of his rival. But the war had just started. Ans he liked winning.
"You're right. Better not talk about him."
Chapter Six
Alice
ANDREW WAS VISITING his daughter that weekend, leaving Alice for the first time the task of overseeing Tyler's rehearsal on the main stage. Her only experience with this type of rehearsals had been to sit where the cameras would be during the shows, and give Andrew feedback on how the choreography looked from various angles. David was working with another of their contestants in Music Room Two and she had to do her very best for their team.
She'd been slow to focus on what she had to do, but she was finally getting the hang of it when she heard TC. She froze in the middle of the stage at the sound of his voice.
"What do you mean it's not available?" he was saying, irritation brewing close to anger.
She peered into the darkness of the set, and saw Mike staring desperately at his tablet. TC's head snapped straight to her, catching her panicked gaze. For a second, theater loving Alice fantasized about falling through one of those traps so she could be out of his sight.
This was the stuff of nightmares. Being on the stage, and Tim Carter in the audience looking at her.
"I'm sorry Mr. Carter," Mike said. "Mr. King's team hasn't finished. I'm s-sorry," he stuttered.
Oh, God! Was it her fault? She checked her watch. Damn! She was five minutes overtime. They were on Team Carter's slot now.
She dared to glance in his direction. He squared his shoulders, his left hand clenched into a fist, every line in his face froze, and his eyes were blazing. She dropped her gaze to the floor quickly and shrank expecting his outburst. People who got between TC and his plans invariably got hurt.
"How long do you need?"
Her heart almost stopped. He was addressing her, and his voice, his beautiful voice was calm. Warm. Not at all what she feared. It was her turn to stutter like Mike.
"Umm. W-we're almost done," she said.
He smiled broadly, anger melting from his body like snow in the spring. Even his eyes, those cold blue-green shards of ice, were smiling at her.
"I can wait," he said. "Of course, if you don't consider this spying."
She looked at Tyler questioningly. The young man shrugged, not caring if TC was watching.
"We need to go through the motions a couple of times," she said steadying her voice. "I hope you won't take it as a sign of mistrust if we don't do the song."
With a Cheshire Cat grin on his face, TC shook his head and sauntered to his Captain chair. He settled comfortably in it, and trained his gaze on her, not on Tyler. Alice wished she could shake the feeling that he was judging her, as if she was one of the contestants.
"Can you show me that bit at the end again?" Tyler said.
She considered refusing, but King hadn't left her there to half ass her job. Besides, what was the worst that could happen?
Stumble.
Trip over her feet.
Break an ankle.
Fall off the stage.
That was not a productive line of thought. Just ignore he's there. That was all she had to do. As if that was the easiest thing in the world. To forget that Tim Carter was looking at her.
She went through the end of the routine with the grace of a drunk panda.
"Now you do it," she told Tyler. "Without all the stumbling."
The smile on the young man's face reminded her of Will, the boy she mentored. Since she had discovered his love of music, she had made a lot of progress with the boy from Orsino East.
"Do the whole routine," she said and left the stage.
She headed for King's chair on the far right, but TC beckoned her to sit in the chair next to him. Ryann Ford's chair. Being around TC was never comfortable, but she realized she was shaking when she nearly sat next to the chair instead of on it. She jumped out of her skin when she felt his arm around her waist.
"I got you," he said gently.
She blushed embarrassed by her clumsiness. Being on the stage, being close to him, her very presence there without King was pushing her into a panic attack.
"Thank you," she managed to squeak, something like panic rising inside her because he still kept her in his arms.
No wonder her grandmothers despaired of her. Clara Pellerin had organized fashion shows for forty years, and Tatiana Lewis had been her muse and the image of Maison Pellerin for half that time. Her own mother had been a world-famous supermodel before giving it all up for archeology. None of them had the vaguest trace of stage fright. They had left it all to her.
TC was back in his chair without acknowledging her gratitude. He'd been unexpectedly kind to her this time. She had used all her soothing skills to keep him generally calm because a calm TC was less likely to irritate Andrew. Still, it seemed to have worked a little too well.
Alarm bells were ringing in her head. He was up to something. TC was never kind to people. She knew he disliked her because of her background and because of her friendship with Vy. She expected him to start making fun of her privileged upbringing, and yet he never did
.
Maybe her guilty conscience was making her paranoid. Maybe she had expected him to be too much of a jerk.
She watched Tyler go through the motions. If it hadn't been for TC's presence, she would have had him sing the song, but she didn't want TC to hear what they had prepared for the next round. She didn't want him to be disapproving of her methods, or worse, of Andrew's choice of a song for his contestant.
She tried to forget TC was there and corrected Tyler's movements. David would deal with the singing in the music room later on. They went through the routine one last time. She was almost satisfied with his stage awareness. During the live performance, he should not spare a single thought to the stage or his motions. He had to focus on his singing. If Andrew were there, he'd know if it was enough.
"That's all for today," she said. "Go have lunch, and David will be in the music room when you finish."
Tyler waved happily and strolled off the stage. She stood up and looked in TC's general direction, avoiding his eyes as usually.
"Thank you for giving us the extra time. I just don't have the hang of being on stage and…" She shook her head and stopped justifying her failure. "Thank you again," she said and turned to leave.
"Do you want to see mine?"
She stumbled at his words.
"My routine," he said, his voice ripe with mirth. "You showed me yours, I'll show you mine. It would be only fair."
"I wouldn't miss your routine for anything in the world," she said half turning toward him. "But, it won't be you on the stage, would it?"
"Miss Lewis, I'm starting to believe what Vy said. You are a fan."
Her cheeks grew warm as she scurried away. Yes, she was a fan, but she didn't deserve any private shows.
Chapter Seven
Alice
THE PHONE VIBRATED on her nightstand. She groped for it with her eyes closed. That night she had only one exception to her call filters. Andrew. Here eyelids seemed glued together with sleep. She barely managed to pry her eyes open to read the message.
"Missed my connection due to fog. I'm stranded in London. Can you go to the 8 o'clock meeting instead of me?"
She had good reasons not to have scheduled practice at Sing that day, but Andrew's requests had priority over most things in her life.
"Sure. Any instructions?" she typed, and stumbled out of bed.
"I trust your judgment."
She got dressed as fast as she could. It was a two-hours drive from Salona to Orsino, and if she didn't hit that sweet spot before traffic got to be nuts, she'd spend another hour at least traversing the capital to get to the Bracciano Estate.
The staff meeting had started by the time she arrived. The whole room turned to watch her as she walked in. Her pulse shot up high into three digits.
"Sorry," she said and scrambled to find a seat as inobtrusive as possible in the small room.
At least she didn't have anything to say. She sat in the only free chair in a second row, which was was behind Lauren.
"Is Andy okay?" Lauren asked in a whisper that showed sincere concern.
"His plane got delayed," she whispered back.
Robinson Dean looked at the both of them with disapproval. Alice shrank in her seat even more, trying to make herself invisible.
Why did King put her in such situations? He could have sent David. He should have sent David. These people were not supposed to talk to her. Or even remember her name. She had agreed to help him with the team not... not with these things. She was going to make him look bad. Her palms were sweating and the hum in her ears got louder.
"He trusts you," Tim Carter said from his seat next to Lauren.
He was three seats to Lauren's left but his whisper managed to break through Alice's rising panic. His voice. She loved his voice. She had loved his voice from the first time she heard him on the radio when she was fifteen.
She drew in a shuddering breath. She should have been upset that he noticed her anxiety. She was the one who read other people while she remained unseen. No one was supposed to notice her, let alone read her insecurities.
Vy had told her that TC had a way of seeing people's most hidden secrets. She should try harder to block his insight into her. But how could she do that and keep him entertained and away from Andrew at the same time?
She tried to focus on what Robinson Dean was saying, but his droning voice sounded nothing like the exciting tone he had when he was presenting the contest. Besides, unlike the artist types, she had actually read all the memos, and Dean was merely rehashing information they all should have known by now.
As soon as the meeting was over, everyone scurried out of the room. Alice busied herself with her bag, trying to postpone the moment when she had to be in their team's music room. She was too sleepy that morning to do a good job. Thankfully, the notes Andrew had emailed her were very through.
To her surprise, TC stayed behind after everyone else had left the room.
"Is the big doofus okay?" he asked. "Seriously now, King isn't the type to take a last-minute plane."
Strange. He seemed to really care what was going on with Andrew. She shrugged noncommittally, not wanting to concede that deep down, TC might not hate his eternal rival.
"It wasn't last-minute. They were grounded due to the weather. Not even Andrew King can control the weather."
"Don't you have an exam soon?"
She looked into his eyes for a second out of sheer shock. It was something she avoided at all costs, afraid of his legendary ability to read people, but his question caught her by surprise. It was deeply unsettling that Tim Carter paid attention to her exams. She'd only mentioned something about the test at breakfast a few days earlier. He couldn't have paid that much attention to her. He probably knew her schedule from Vy somehow.
"I studied diligently since before the semester started. I don't need to cram the day before the test."
"You have an exam tomorrow?"
"It's nothing," she said. "It's a simple test. I've been reading classics since I learned how to read."
He shook his head, looking thoroughly unconvinced.
"How does King inspire such devotion?"
Poor Carter. Sometimes she couldn't help feeling sorry for him. For reasons about which she could only speculate, Carter had chosen to be the bad boy, the temperamental rock star, while King had developed the nurturing side of his nature. In their youth, Carter had probably seen King's darkness. Alice caught glimpses of Andrew's dark side, but it was well under control. Would Carter ever be able to understand why Andrew was universally beloved?
"The power of example?" she said.
"I've known the man since we were fifteen. He has only been devoted to music. You are devoted to him."
He had a point. She liked music, but it had never been her passion, the way it was for him and for her friends. Andrew, despite his flaws, inspired devotion.
"You're right," she admitted. "I'm doing my best to help him, because he means a lot to us."
Carter looked at her inquiringly.
"Us?"
"Yes, to us," she said. "I respect the hell out of him for what he's done for Illyrian music, but I wouldn't do so much if he hadn't proved that he cares about the people he works with. Just like you do. Vy doesn't talk about you now, but I know what you did for her last year."
He seemed skeptical. Did he suspect her of flattering him with some ulterior motive? His next words surprised her.
"What do you think King would have done for her last year?"
She had her own views on that subject, but it was nothing she wanted to share with him out of loyalty for Andrew and Vy. If the two idiots kept messing up their relationship, having TC stick his nose into it could only make it worse. The Summer Festival debacle had proved as much.
"I don't know. I always advised her to choose you as her Captain."
It wasn't a lie, even if she hadn't much cared who Vy would choose as her Captain. Although Alice had always preferred the Waves to Wanderlust, he
r advice had been more to annoy Sebastian, Vy's brother and Wanderlust's number one fan.
"Are you buttering me up Miss Lewis?" he asked directly, but not angrily.
She shook her head but the tips of her ears heated up. She was trying to distract him from questions about Andrew and Vy. She lifted her oversized bag to put it on her shoulder when he reached out to take it from her hand.
"What are you doing?" she said, holding on to her bag.
"I'm being chivalrous. Come on, I'll carry it for you. I keep trying to find ways to thank you for your help with the paperwork. And you should have some perks from being my next-door neighbor."
Their hands stayed in contact while they both held the bag. She let him have it.
"I didn't help you with the paperwork because I wanted something in return," she said, "but now that you mention it…"
The boyish grin on his face when he looked at her reminded Alice of old photos of his she had seen in a magazine. Tim Carter, 17 years old, before he was the lead singer of the Waves, before he was TC.
"All you have to do, is ask," he said.
"I might just do that. Someday."
They headed right toward the hallway that led to their music rooms. When she retrieved her bag, she tried to conceal the shiver she felt at his touch. There was something electric about this man, something she didn't want to think about, something she definitely didn't want to let him see.
#
Mere seconds after the contestants she had worked with left for lunch, the door opened again.
"Hungry?" TC asked, sticking his head through it.
"Not really," she said.
She stifled a yawn. As soon as he would leave, she was going to close the piano's lid and put her head on it.
To her dismay, he closed the door behind him and strolled into the room. He sat down at the piano next to her, apparently not bothered by their extreme proximity. She tried to act as if it didn't affect her either. But it did. She stood up and arranged the music sheets back in their folders.
A melody she didn't recognized filled the room.
"That was beautiful," she said when the song ended. "What was it?"
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