After a moment, he prodded, “Is that what you thought?”
Jill slid her arms around his neck. “Only for a moment when we saw your car.”
His jaw ticked.
“Most of me knew there was some kind of a mix-up. I just couldn’t figure it out. I’m sorry I brought her here.”
“She’ll be fine.” He gripped her tighter. “Thank you for taking care of my daughter.” He gripped her tighter. “Pleased to see me?”
She let her kiss serve as her answer. “And are you pleased to see me?”
“Gavin.” Adrienne broke in, her voice coiled tight. “We must talk.”
Jill jumped at the intrusion.
Gavin smiled down at Jill, rolled his eyes, and murmured, “She’s back. Give me a minute while I see what this is about. Can you round up Olivia? I’ll meet you at the employee entrance.”
Pleased with this turn of events, Jill’s stomach rumbled as she went in search of Olivia. Dinner at La Mantra’s sounded wonderful. She was in the mood for sea bass and asparagus or possibly some fresh pasta in a creamy shrimp sauce.
Olivia spotted her first, dropped the extension cord she held for Sonny, and ran over to Jill. “Where's my Dad?”
“Just finishing up. He’ll be along in a minute.”
Olivia twisted a lock of hair, biting it into her lower lip. “I couldn’t do it.”
Jill bent down. “It’s all right, Olivia.” She smoothed the ever-straying hair from Olivia's eyes.
“I wanted to do it.” Anguish washed over her tear-streaked face. “Maybe when my music teacher comes.”
Uneasiness crept over Jill’s skin. “Your music teacher?”
Olivia bobbed her head. “The one Daddy got for me. Then I'll be able to do it.”
Music teacher? Her stomach tightened.
Frowning, Gavin caught up with them. “Damn press,” he muttered. “You'd think they'd have gotten a big enough piece of us by now.” He looked at Jill. “There's been a…development. The press wants another interview. Tonight. Adrienne’s arranging it.” His gaze darted toward Olivia.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I know you’re talking about me.”
He took his daughter’s hand. “Well, we’re not talking about you anymore. You hungry? Because I’m starved and we’re going to eat.”
Inside La Mantra’s, a trendy little seafood bistro with a long reservation list, and an even longer line of people hoping to be seated, the maître d’ caught sight of Gavin and beckoned. “Ah, Maestro,” he greeted. “Allow me to escort you to our very best table. The last time you were here, I promised to show the little miss how our pastry chef makes our famous molten lava cake she loves so much. May I suggest she come with me now?”
Gavin nodded.
Seated at their table, Jill was pleased to see the strain around his eyes relax and the easy side of his nature return. She couldn’t wait a moment longer and fit her hand into Gavin’s. “I’ve wonderful news. Olivia has completed her trial period. She’s done well, Gavin. I’ve never been happier to see a child do so well.”
“We make a good team.” He reached into his breast pocket and produced a small white envelope. “A ticket for Saturday’s performance—a private box.”
His smile held untold intimacies, and a rush of delight spread across her cheeks.
He dipped his head to hers. “Now that we’re beyond the ten weeks, you'll be there?”
“Just try to keep me away.” She tucked the envelope into her purse.
“Good, I’ll send Baines.”
Jill sat back, fighting the surprise she felt. “Baines?”
“I’ll be at the hall most of the afternoon, rehearsing, so I won’t be able to pick you up. Baines will be by at seven-thirty. That way, you’ll arrive in time to give me a good luck kiss before I go on.”
The idea caused an inward tremor but she chose not to let him see how much the thought if his kiss affected her. She shrugged, “Or, I could just walk. The concert hall is only a few blocks away. If the weather turns, I can go through the skyways.”
Gavin lifted the tablecloth and looked at Jill’s feet. He grinned. “In heels?”
“Well, I don’t have to wear heels.”
Gavin’s mouth twitched and his eyes lit up. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without heels. Even your slippers have high heels.”
“You’ve never seen my slippers.”
“Maybe not, but I’ll bet I’m right.”
Jill leaned in and kissed his jaw, murmuring. “Of course, you’ve seen me without heels.” Gavin’s eyes burned hot.
“I stand corrected. I’ve never seen you in public without heels. But there’s something you need to understand about me, Jillian.” His mouth grazed her ear. “I never leave a woman unescorted.” He growled softly under his breath.
Jill rolled her eyes and waved a hand, once again suppressing the tremor that began low in her abdomen and skated around inside her, pretending the conversation now bored her. “If you insist, then Baines will be just fine.”
“I’ll give him a call now while I’m thinking of it. He’s on his way into town to pick up Mother from her board meeting. Liv’s riding back with them tonight so you and I can have some time alone.” He patted his pockets and frowned. “Adrienne must’ve picked up my phone. Help me remember to get it back, if you think of it.”
Jill rested her hand over his. “Won’t Olivia wonder why she’s not going back with you tonight?”
Gavin’s eyes dimmed. “Since the accident, I almost never take her along in my car. The Bentley’s as safe as a tank. She’s used to riding with Baines. Besides,” he straightened and dipped his head. His voice thickened as he murmured, “Liv wants us to have some time to ourselves.”
Jill sat back staring. What had he just said? “She wants…what?”
He grinned. “I told her I wanted to get to know you better. She’s all for it.”
“I see.” Would things ever be on an even keel with this man?
The pastry chef escorted Olivia back to the table. “Next time, I’ll make you something special. You’ve only to let me know you’re coming.”
He’d only just left their table when Adrienne appeared. “Gavin,” She hissed, her eyes glittering. “There’s a reporter—”
Before she could say more, a short, round little man wearing an ill-fitting bowler hat strode over and tipped his hat. “Excuse the interruption.”
Jill didn't like his manner, his absurd hat, or the sound of his voice, which reeked with aggression. She looked over at Adrienne who kept biting her lips, her eyes almost fearful.
“Mr. Fairfield, I understand you'll be holding a press conference later this evening. The word on the street is that they’ll give you a rough time. Give me an exclusive now, and I can get my story out before the others. My version will favor you. Might even make your meeting with the press tonight go a little more…smoothly.”
Gavin arched an eyebrow. “What’s your name?”
“Jeff Warner. I’m with Probe.”
“Well, Mr. Warner, thanks for your offer but I like to give everyone the same shot. See you at the press conference later tonight.” He turned away from the reporter and shot a warning look at Adrienne, which communicated handle this.
Adrienne placed a hand on the reporter’s arm. “Mr. Warner, why don’t we—”
But the reporter brushed Adrienne aside and turned on Olivia. “You're Olivia Fairfield, aren't you? Unfortunate about your accident.” His words released in rapid succession. “Will you be able to perform with your father next spring? Or is it true there won’t be a concert? The word is your dad, here, can't complete the concerto without you. Well, little girl, what's the story? You gonna bail out your daddy? Or is he washed up?”
The reporter’s slick manner and ghastly implications felt like grenades exploding one after the other. The effect was mind-numbing—as if Jill couldn’t quite track all that was going on around her.
Without taking a deep breath, Warner
whirled on Jill. “And you—you’re supposed to be the woman who's gonna give it all back to the maestro by fixing the little girl here. From the looks of things, Fairfield's got you right where he wants you. So let's have it, Doc. Is the kid ever gonna compose again? Or are you providing other services?”
Jill shuddered as his gaze slithered over her body.
Gavin leaped to his feet.
Words kept shooting from Warner’s mouth like a repeating rifle. “And that's really why you were in New York, isn't it, Maestro?” He turned and leveled his attack on Gavin. “To find a music tutor for your little protégé here. To see if someone else can get back her mojo since you haven’t been able to.” With that, Warner lifted his hand and signaled to two photographers who began snapping candids.
Mere moments had elapsed since the reporter first appeared at their table, yet time felt like an eternity—as if they had stumbled into a world where everything happened in slow motion—her brain unable to keep pace with real time. Jill recognized her behavior as a classic reaction to shock—she’d worked with any number of clients who reported feeling this way, but she’d never experienced it herself. Until now.
Gavin’s voice snapped. “Get out.” When Warner looked as though he might delay, Gavin took a step forward.
The reporter squealed, raising his hands to protect himself from an attack and backed out of the restaurant. “No problem. No problem. I got what I came for.” He gave them one last ugly smile then turned and ran from the room. The tacky bowler hat slid off his head and rolled to the floor. The little man turned back to collect it, but spotted Gavin had closed the distance between them.
Gavin gave the hat a vicious kick.
Which sent Warner on the run—without his hat.
People in the restaurant stared, their faces stamped with judgment. A trembling Olivia fit herself into Jill’s arms, as if trying to make herself invisible. Instinctively, Jill tightened her arms around the girl.
Warner’s behavior was in direct conflict with his assertions. He’d said he wanted an interview with Gavin, yet he’d just destroyed any chance of that ever happening. Almost as if he hadn’t expected to get the interview—as if his true purpose had been to level sensational accusations.
Yet, this was the second mention of a music teacher. Had Gavin acquired a music teacher for Olivia while in New York?
“I’m sorry, Jillian.” Gavin placed his hand over hers. “We’re finished here. Would you mind taking Olivia outside? Baines should be here by now. I’ll join you in a minute. First, I need to find out what Adrienne knows about this.”
Olivia asked to stop in the bathroom.
To Jill’s dismay, they ran into Adrienne examining her face in the mirrored anteroom. The agent’s green eyes glittered like a predator. Marvelous, just marvelous.
“Nasty little scene,” Adrienne commented.
“Toilets through that door, Olivia.” Jill pointed. “Go on ahead, I’ll wait for you here.” Although she would have preferred to be almost anywhere else, she stationed herself close to Adrienne to keep her away from Olivia.
Their gazes clashed in the mirror. “You're not used to this, are you?” Adrienne shook her head. “I tried to warn Gavin this might happen. For months now, he's been on borrowed time.” The agent lined her lips and began filling them in, angling her head toward the toilets. “Surely you’ve seen how he can barely look at her. His problem with Olivia goes back much further than the accident. Did you know he hasn't composed anything on his own since the discovery of Olivia's talent?”
Jill squared her shoulders. Whatever she says, keep it in perspective. No jumping to conclusions. Assume her intentions are geared toward her best interests, not yours. “What are you saying, Adrienne?”
“Just that no man wants to be outshone by a child, and for a man like Gavin.” She clucked. “All that publicity. Before the accident, the concerto they were composing together was reputed to be the greatest accomplishment in modern day classical composition.”
With a glance at the connecting door, Jill forced herself to remain calm. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I just think we girls should stick together. So, before you go and get your heart broken, you should know a few things. First, while we were in New York together, Gavin found a music teacher for Olivia.”
Pulse pounding, Jill stared down the woman. “I don’t believe you.”
Adrienne offered a shrug. “Whatever. Second, Gavin and I have been together a long time—since middle school. Oh, he’s had other women, and I’ve had other men. But we're like…an addiction. And he never travels without me.”
Jill crossed her arms, willing herself not to show any reaction, and certainly not surprise, to learn Adrienne was in New York with Gavin. “Is that all?”
“Just that I know you think you had a magical weekend at the lake cabin and that now you’re an item. I’ll bet he even said you’re the only woman he’s ever taken there. Did you know Gavin and I were there together the day of the accident? We were going to…break it in, so to speak. You know, christen the rooms.” She winked at Jill, adjusted her cleavage, and smiled at herself in the mirror.
Heart racing at what she’d just learned, she vowed to remain calm. Jill stepped forward until she violated Adrienne’s personal space. “All right, Adrienne. You’ve had your say. Mission accomplished. And now, we’re done here.”
“Not quite,” she said, handing over Gavin’s phone. “Take a good look. This will prove how things are.” She tucked the phone into Jill’s hand and flounced out the door.
Before Jill slipped the phone into her purse, she couldn’t help but see the photo of a proud Adrienne baring her breasts, her head resting demurely against Gavin’s. Her body stilled. Damn.
Several minutes later, they watched Baines drive away until he turned the corner out of sight. Jill shivered. Gavin reached for her hand. His fingers gripped hers. They crossed the street. Just inside the outer doors of Orchestra Hall, Gavin began, “Jillian, I apologize. The evening has been a disaster.”
“You have no idea,” she said, refusing to meet his eyes as she flipped his phone open and handed it to him. Her abdomen did a sickening flip.
Gavin glanced at the photo and frowned. He slid the phone into the inside pocket of his jacket. “That photo isn’t what it appears to be.”
Jill waited, hoping against hope whatever he said next would make sense—would ring true—and that his words wouldn’t hurl them into a world of hurt.
Gavin rammed a hand through his hair. “I didn’t even know she took it. I mean, I knew she’d taken a photo of herself. I didn’t know I was in it, and I certainly didn’t know it was on my phone.”
Jill’s gaze scoured his face.
“I was drunk. Stupid. Careless, even. But believe me when I tell you, Jillian, nothing happened.”
During dinner, the temperature had dropped. Jill shivered again as the November wind shrieked and blew them indoors.
He caught her hand. “I must do this press conference in a few minutes but you have to hear me.” He reached out and placed his hands on either side of her face. “I won’t apologize for who I am, or what I might have done in the past. I will only say that since meeting you, there has been only you.”
Jill felt the urgency of his words merge with her need to hear them. She breathed deeply and managed a calm, dignified tone. “I believe you.”
Gavin exhaled and gripped her hand tighter.
Her fingers curled around his as she continued, “Any woman who tries as hard as Adrienne did to get me to buy her story is usually selling rotten apples.”
“You believe me because Adrienne oversold her side of the story?” His jaw ticked and his eyes darkened.
Jill’s mouth tightened. She released his hand. “Take it and be grateful. Adrienne said a lot of things, Gavin. I’m still working through some of them.”
“But you believe me?”
“I believe what you’ve told me. The difficulty is that there
seems to be much more you haven’t told me. I keep getting the story in bits and pieces from one source or another—but not from you.” She fought a frown. “I could understand better if the information came from you.”
Gavin took her hand. “Then here are a few more pieces. You remember I told you Liv and I were working on a concerto together. All but the last movement is done.”
Gavin looked at her as if this statement should have made a great impact.
Jill remained impassive.
When she didn't react, he said, “I’m blocked. I haven’t composed since the accident. Adrienne had to cancel the date for the premiere because the booking was for both Liv and me. Even if I could finish, I have no interest in it. That concerto is ours, intended for two pianos. The piece will never be performed.”
Jill ran her thumb across his lips, her heart full with anguish. “I’m so sorry, Gavin.”
He caught her hand and held it. “Before the accident, the concerto was reputed to be the greatest accomplishment in modern day classical composition. I sound like I’m tripping over my ego but that’s why the issue of that damn concerto keeps coming up. Why they won’t leave us alone.”
Jill cocked her head. “Those are the exact words Adrienne used earlier this evening.”
Wincing, he nodded. “It’s her copy and the phrases caught like wildfire. Look, a lot has happened tonight—none even close to what I had planned. Would you stay for the press conference?”
Jill tucked the long length of her hair behind her ear as she considered the idea.
“Please. I need you in my corner.”
Jill looked into his eyes. If there’d been even a flicker of manipulation present, she’d have declined. He stared back without blinking, his gaze holding hers.
“Please,” he repeated.
She sighed. Steady, girl. You’re not out of the weeds yet. “Yes, I’ll stay.”
Gavin let out another deep breath.
“And afterward I expect full disclosure. Things like why Adrienne stopped by the lake cabin over Labor Day Weekend and what the two of you argued about in the driveway. Or why you never mentioned it—and how she even knows about that place. I want to know more about the block you’re experiencing. I might be able to help you. And,” she took a deep breath, “I want you to explain why I’ve heard from several sources that while you were in New York, you found a music teacher for Olivia.” She’d never seen him look grimmer.
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