by M. J. Duncan
“You look good together.”
“It’s not like that,” Mallory sighed.
“I dunno, Mal, the way that girl smiles at you suggests that it could be. If you wanted.”
Mallory opened her mouth to argue, to deride Siobhan’s statement as ridiculous, but Addison—arms extended so that she was holding herself up over the edge of the building—turned around right then to beam at her, and she forgot how to breathe for a moment, never mind anything else.
“This view is incredible!”
It wasn’t, really. The gap just opened onto the small, grungy alley the buildings shared and more buildings beyond, but she couldn’t help but return her smile as she agreed, “It certainly is.”
“Smooth,” Siobhan chuckled.
“Oh, do shut up,” Mallory grumbled as she watched Addison drop lightly to her feet and wipe her hands off on the seat of her jeans as she made her way back toward them.
Siobhan laughed loudly at that, and Mallory rolled her eyes as it prompted the inevitable question from Addison, “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, darling,” Mallory lied quickly. She grit her teeth at Siobhan’s knowing little finger that poked her in the side at the endearment, and shook her head as she added, “Siobhan’s apparently had too much wine already—she’s giving herself the giggles.”
“Please,” Siobhan scoffed, giving the grill one last look-over before closing the lid and starting for the door to the stairs, “we both know that you’ll be tossing me out on my arse if I get to that point.”
“Do I want to know why?” Addison asked. “Because you seem like you’d be a fun drunk.”
“Oh, I’m the best drunk. Not that I can even remember the last time I got that pissed, but still…”
“She will flirt with anyone and anything,” Mallory shared. “It’s actually quite funny.”
Addison smiled as she looked from Mallory to Siobhan and back again. “Has she ever hit on you?”
“She wishes,” Siobhan answered.
“Hardly,” Mallory scoffed.
“You could get drunk and flirt with her,” Siobhan suggested, waggling her eyebrows at Addison as she pulled the door open.
Mallory could only gape when, without missing a beat, Addison winked at Siobhan and drawled, “Oh, I don’t need to be drunk to want to flirt with her,” before sauntering—yes, sauntering—down the stairs.
“Tell me again why you’re not making a play on that?” Siobhan demanded in a hushed voice once Addison was out of earshot.
“One, that was awful. You sound like the lads down at the corner pub lusting after anyone with breasts. And two, you know exactly why that is.”
Siobhan’s smile turned sad as she nodded. “Yeah. But you deserve to be happy, Mal.”
“I am happy,” Mallory insisted.
“You could be happier.”
“As could everyone, I’d imagine.” Siobhan just arched a brow and crossed her arms over her chest, and Mallory sighed. “I’m not ready.”
“But you like her?” Siobhan pressed.
Mallory pursed her lips as she considered lying, but she knew Siobhan would see right through her and she didn’t have the energy to deal with a prolonged conversation on the matter. “Yes.”
“So…someday? Maybe?”
“Someday. Maybe,” Mallory agreed softly, because someday was the perfect hypothetical—always remaining safely in the future, leaving her free to never have to do anything about it.
“Good.” Siobhan tilted her head toward the door that would take them back downstairs. “Shall we?”
“We shall,” Mallory agreed, grateful that Siobhan didn’t seem inclined to push the matter further.
Will’s smile was sly, and he looked poised to throw some kind of embarrassing comment her way when they found their way back to the kitchen, but before he could open his mouth to say anything Siobhan cut him off with a shake of her head and a soft, “Leave it,” murmured against his ear.
Perhaps it was the steel in Siobhan’s tone or the weary slant of her own smile that convinced him to heed the warning but, whatever the case, Will simply nodded and asked, “Addison, how do you prefer your steak?”
“Medium-well.”
“Excellent. Then if you lot would be so kind as to prepare the salad and sauté the mushrooms, the wife and I will head on up to take care of these.” He lifted the cutting board covered in steaks and arched a brow at Siobhan. “What do you think?”
“I think that sounds like a brilliant idea.” Siobhan picked up her glass of wine. “Want me to bring yours, as well?”
Will nodded. “Yeah. Ta.”
“They’re something of a whirlwind, aren’t they?” Addison commented with a little chuckle once Will and Siobhan had disappeared from earshot.
“That they are.”
“I can prep the salad if you’d like,” Addison offered.
“It’s fine.” Mallory waved her off. “The mushrooms won’t need much attention once I get them on the stove, so I’ll just do it then. You, my dear, may be in charge of keeping me company.”
Addison smiled and nodded. “I can do that.” She poked Mallory’s wine glass toward her and added, “And I’ll make sure to keep your glass full. How’s that?”
“I’m afraid that after two glasses, I’ll fall asleep,” Mallory admitted with a wry grin.
“You’re not the only one.” Addison winked and dragged a hand through her hair. “But, hey, we’ll just go sleep it off on the couch and leave the dishes to Will and Siobhan.”
Mallory laughed. “Deal.”
How Mallory noticed that Laurent Bellamy, the twenty-eight-year-old who was doing a turn as the LSO’s guest conductor as part of his graduate coursework, was about to lose his place in the piece moments before it happened was a miracle. The last three weeks had been absolutely hellish, her already grueling rehearsal schedule increased with the few free hours during the week she had taken by what seemed like a never-ending string of added rehearsals for Evolution because the Royal Opera House’s orchestra was still struggling in places to keep up.
She made her way through her days on auto-pilot as she obeyed the many various alarms on her phone. Had she the energy to actually think about what her life had become, she would have been embarrassed by how much of her autonomy she’d given over to the scheduled alerts, but it was so much easier to follow orders. Even if those orders came by way of canned, tinny music and words on a screen. The phone told her what to do, and all she had to do was react and obey, to turn off the alarm and then go wherever the screen said she needed to be next.
She even had alarms scheduled to remind herself to eat, now, because there had been a day the week before when she had nearly passed out in Clore Studio during a particularly demanding rehearsal.
So how she realized that Bellamy was about to completely screw up was beyond her. Perhaps it was something in the pinch of his brow or the drop of his left hand that caught her attention. But whatever it was, she sat up straighter, drawing the attention of the musicians around her as she began to play with more of the physicality she used in Covent Garden. She leaned forward in her seat and lifted the scroll of her violin higher, drawing the attention of everyone with an instrument in their hands.
Her heartbeat picked up as she waited for the moment she was sure was coming, adrenaline making what had been a routine performance suddenly anything but, and she held her breath when it finally happened. Bellamy’s hands swung out when they should have gone up, and she glanced around the arc of musicians to make sure they were following her lead.
They were, of course, because they were professionals. And, despite the utter seriousness of the moment, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling at the pride that bloomed in her chest at their skill.
Assured that things were as well in hand as they could be given the situation, she looked then to their guest conductor—whose eyes were wide as they roved wildly over the sheet music on his stand—and then to he
r own music. One of them needed to hold their place in the score, and it was up to her to make sure the orchestra stayed on note until he caught up.
He did, eventually, after almost a page and a half, and she blew out a soft breath, her posture relaxing by a fraction as she allowed him to take the reins once more. The rest of the performance concluded without further mishap, and when they stood at the end to receive the audience’s applause, she delighted in knowing they had no idea what had happened.
Bellamy took his bow first, as was protocol, but kept it shallow and brief to quickly shift the attention to the musicians behind him with a wide sweep of his arm. They bowed as a group, letting the applause wash over them like a wave, before falling into line and filing off the stage.
Bellamy grabbed Mallory’s arm the moment they were safely in the wings, and he spoke so quickly that she was barely able to make out the words, “Oh my god thank you so much you saved my arse out there.”
“It happens,” Mallory assured him with a kind smile. “That’s why we rehearse, yeah?”
“Still.” He shook his head and groaned. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine, mate,” Will assured him as he stopped at Mallory’s side. “You recovered nicely, and no one in the audience is the wiser for it all, so there’s no point beating yourself up about it.”
“Laurent. A word?” Clara called as she made his way into the wings from the short corridor that connected the box where she had been watching the performance to the backstage area.
Laurent’s shoulders slumped as his head fell forward. “Fucking hell.”
“It will be fine,” Mallory murmured. “She doesn’t bite, and the worst-case scenario is just that you come back and have a go again sometime.”
“If they let me back in the bloody building after that cockup.” Laurent’s lips quirked in a rueful smile as he offered Mallory his hand. “Thank you for the save, Ms. Collingswood.”
“My pleasure, Laurent. Don’t let this knock you down for too long, okay?”
“I’ll try.”
Mallory gave him one last reassuring smile before he turned toward Clara, looking quite like a man headed for the gallows. It was understandable, of course, and part of her felt bad for him, but he needed thicker skin if he was going to make a career in music. She caught Clara's eye over Laurent’s shoulder and arched a brow as she motioned with her hand in a way that asked if she wanted her to stay or not. While she wanted nothing more than to stumble home and fall into bed, they usually spent a few minutes going over recently completed performances before calling it a night, just so they were on the same page going into things the next day.
Thankfully, though, Clara shook her head and waved for her to go.
“Let’s get out of here, Mister Adrian,” she muttered through a yawn as she nudged Will with her elbow.
“You’re not doing your usual debrief?”
She shook her head. “I reckon Clara has her hands full gathering the remains of young Mister Bellamy’s ego and trying to piece it back together.”
Will chuckled softly as he fell into step beside her. “Poor lad. You totally saved his arse up there, though. How did you know the whole thing was about to go off the rails?”
“Honestly? I haven’t the faintest idea how I saw it coming. I’m just glad I did.”
Though she had her own office in the building, Mallory had taken to leaving her case with the rest of the first violins backstage to help her beat a hasty exit at the end of the night, and she smiled at the quiet applause and congratulations for the save she had made that welcomed her. “Well done tonight, you lot.”
“How’s he doing?” Charlie, her Associate Leader, asked as she lifted her violin case onto a nearby box and began stowing her instrument.
“Understandably rattled. But he’ll bounce back.” She blew out a soft breath as a ripple of murmurs floated through the group, some positive and some not so much, and added, “Clara is talking to him now.”
Charlie nodded. “Good. He showed some promise. Usual time for the matinee tomorrow?”
“Usual time,” Mallory confirmed.
The group took that as their dismissal, and she was left in peace to finish wiping down her violin and stowing her bow as they began filtering out the stage door. The adrenaline that had carried her through the back end of the performance faded as she snapped the latches on her case shut, and she took a deep breath as she hefted it and her bag onto her shoulder.
Will was waiting for her near the exit as he always did, and his tone and smile were kind as he pointed toward the corridor that led to the public area of the Centre and said, “Siobhan came to the performance tonight with a friend, and I’m under orders to bring you out to say hello.”
“Will…” Mallory sighed.
His smile softened, and he nodded understandingly. “It’s late, and you’re tired, I know. We’ll keep it as brief as you need, I promise. Just…please?”
“This better be an important friend,” Mallory grumbled through a yawn as she allowed him to steer her down the hall with a gentle hand on her elbow. She did her best to try to blink away her exhaustion as he pushed the door to the main foyer.
“Almost there,” he said as he motioned her through. “I see Siobhan just ahead.”
She nodded. Siobhan was talking to whoever it was she was supposed to meet, she presumed, though she saw nothing of the woman beside a black high heel and a long, toned leg that disappeared beneath the hem of a matching black dress that fell to a few inches above the woman’s knee. “Yeah, I see her. Who’s the woman I’m supposed to be impressing? Or whatever it is you expect me to do…”
“Oh, you know…” His voice trailed off as Siobhan, as if sensing their approach, turned to look their way, providing a perfect view of her companion.
Mallory’s eyebrows lifted as Addison’s eyes found hers across the foyer, and she made no effort to break the connection as she muttered to Will, “Addy is Siobhan’s friend that I’m supposed to say hello to? Really?”
Will chuckled. “Really.” When Mallory didn’t respond right away, he asked, “Is this okay? She wanted to surprise you.”
“Oh, I’m definitely surprised.” Mallory fiddled with the strap of her violin case as she watched Addison’s lips curl with a soft, wholly pleased smile. “And, yes, it’s more than okay. It’s…”
“I know,” he assured her in a low voice.
“Nice job tonight, you two,” Siobhan greeted them with a smug grin.
Mallory reached out to pull Siobhan into a quick, one-armed hug. “Sneaky bugger, aren’t you?” she whispered in her ear.
Siobhan laughed delightedly and dusted a light kiss over her cheek. “Well, you know me…” She winked at her as she pulled away.
“Lord help me,” Mallory muttered playfully as she turned to Addison who, she only just realized, was holding a beautiful bouquet of white lilies and blue irises. It was, thankfully, smaller than the one she had ordered for her the night they had gone to watch her perform, but it was still large enough that she wasn’t entirely sure she had a vase at home that was big enough to accommodate the blooms.
“I wasn’t sure about the proper protocol for the symphony, but…” Addison’s voice trailed off into a shrug as she offered Mallory the flowers. “I hope it’s okay?”
“They’re gorgeous.” Mallory smiled as she took the flowers. She looked at Addison through the petals as she lifted them to her nose, and her throat tightened at the warmth in her eyes. She cleared her throat as she moved to pull Addison into a gentle hug that, she prayed, conveyed just how pleased she was. “Thank you, darling,” she murmured.
“It’s my pleasure, I assure you,” Addison replied softly, her lips brushing lightly over Mallory’s cheek, her right arm finding its way around Mallory’s waist as her left hand settled lightly on her hip.
Addison’s light perfume smelled of summer with a hint of ginger grass, and Mallory’s eyes fluttered shut as the scent enveloped her. Her finger wrapped ju
st that little bit tighter around Addison’s shoulder as memories of that night two weeks ago when they’d ended up falling asleep together on the couch after dinner, too exhausted to keep their eyes open despite the ridiculous volume of the film Will had put on. Her pulse stuttered as she remembered the way Addison had fit so perfectly against her side, right hand fisted in the hem of her shirt as a small spot of drool dampened her shoulder. And she had been so tired, and it had felt so nice to be close to someone again, that when Addison tried to pull away in a fit of adorable embarrassment, she just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and refused to let her go.
She had tried to play it off as a joke, and Addison had played along, grumbling appropriately as she settled back into place, but the soft sigh that had tickled her neck as Addison’s hand slid around her hip, holding her just as tightly, had haunted her dreams every night since.
It had been a mistake, but it was one that she couldn’t quite bring herself to regret. If she wasn’t on week two of running on caffeine and adrenaline, she might have had the energy to worry about that, but the more time she spent around Addison and her easy touches and gentle smiles, the harder it was to remember why, exactly, this was a bad idea.
Because whenever they were together like this, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
“So,” Will declared loudly, his voice tinged with amusement that Mallory was certain she would be suffering for the next few days until it had cleared his system, “did either of you notice the little bit of excitement we had up there tonight?”
“I didn’t.” Siobhan turned to Addison. “Did you?”
Addison sighed against Mallory’s ear as she pulled away. There was the faintest flush to her cheeks that made her look positively adorable, and she smiled shyly at Mallory as she moved out of her embrace. “Toward the end? When Mal sat up straighter and everybody seemed to take their cue from her?”
“Did they?” Siobhan asked, looking to Will for confirmation.
“Aye, we did.” He grinned and waved a hand at Mallory. “I don’t know how she did it, but our fearless leader here somehow knew the poor lad was going to go off-script before he did it, and managed to save the entire performance.”