“Wagner.”
“I know that. Why is your pocket making music?”
“Cause I’m happy to see you?”
“Funny.”
“It’s my father’s ringtone, okay? I’ll get it later.” Damn, he didn’t need another round of disapproval this morning.
Mandy studied him, just waiting. He shrugged and took the eggs off the heat to dish them up. As she kept watching him the bacon started to smoke.
“Angel, I like my bacon crisp but not black.”
Mandy jumped, lifting the bacon out to drain on paper towels. Again his pocket started to play. This time it was the nuns of the abbey singing the musical question, how do you solve a problem like Maria?
“Okay, who’s that one for?”
“My mom. Damn. He isn’t giving up. I have to take this.” He pulled the phone out and flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Hello, Joseph?”
Joe sighed as his father’s deep tones resonated in his ear. “Yes, Father.”
“You ignored my call?”
Joe winced, glancing at Mandy. He knew she could hear his half of the conversation. He wanted to block her from hearing his father, but she’d know if he did.
Damn straight.
“I didn’t ignore you, Father.”
“You did not answer my call but you answered your mother’s. I would call that ignoring me.”
“I answered the second time because I knew you were calling back using Mother’s phone. That’s all.”
“You knew?”
“I guessed. So what’s up?”
“Language, Joseph. Proper English is important.”
“Yes, Father.” Joe counted to ten mentally. He knew that as an Austrian immigrant Leopold spent years perfecting his English, even though a faint trace of accent remained. Cut the old man some slack, he told himself.
“Good. Now, what are your plans for Valentine’s Day?”
“Valentine’s?”
“Yes, you remember that it is your mother’s birthday.”
“Uh… Yeah. Absolutely.”
“Your mother would like you to visit. Your brothers have finally settled in Denver and she wishes the family to be together.”
“Um…right. Well, I’m not sure that’s going to work.”
“And why not? You said you would be off the road for a few weeks in February…surely your musical friends have not been booked somewhere.”
“My band.”
“Yes, your band. Ah, Joseph, I grieve.”
Joe winced. He knew what was coming and he was tired of hearing it.
“Father…”
“You could have played Carnegie Hall. Carnegie. Such classical guitar skills you possessed. I even arranged a private meeting for you with the master. He said you showed promise.”
“Father, it was an honor to play for Maestro Segovia, but classical isn’t my thing. It never has been.”
You played for Segovia?
Once. For all of five minutes. Father conned him into it when I was seven and we were in Spain.
Wow.
Joe shrugged. “Are you there, Father?”
“Yes, my son.” He cleared his throat. “Your mother is most insistent on a visit.”
“Mother or you?”
“Your mother misses you. Surely it is not so difficult for an eldest son to visit his parents?”
Joe rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Well, I kind of have plans.”
“A one-night stand is not plans.”
Joe glanced at Mandy. She scowled at him. Damn she’d heard his father’s dry comment. “It isn’t a one-night stand.”
Tell him we could visit today, if they’re free.
“Mandy…” he growled.
“Who is Mandy?”
Joe winced. He’d said her name out loud. Shit.
Are you embarrassed by me?
No. Hell, no. You just don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for, angel.
I want to meet them.
“She’s my True Mate,” he admitted.
“And when did you meet this True Mate?”
“True Mate? Joe has a True Mate?” He heard his mother’s voice in the background. Shit. He was screwed now. There was no getting out of this.
“Yes, Maria. Evidently so.”
“Leo let me talk to him.”
“I will finish first, my dear,” his father said and Joe knew his mother obeyed—just like they all did when the old man barked. “Now, my son. Were you ever going to share this news with us—your family?”
“I found her last night. I wasn’t keeping her a secret.”
“Last night? Where did you meet her?”
“Um…”
Leopold growled. “Some dirne from a bar?”
Joe took a deep breath to keep from yelling. “Mandy is no whore. Damn it, Father, she’s wonderful. How dare you…”
“Ah, good. I think maybe you tell me the truth after all.”
Joe rumbled. “Her parents are in my band.”
“Good lord. More rock musicians?”
“Eddie and Carly are. Mandy is a photographer.”
“An artistic photographer?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure anything she does is wonderful. We haven’t gotten into a deep discussion about it.”
“What she does is important.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“We shall see. Now, when will we meet her?”
Joe looked into Mandy’s hopeful eyes and fought a groan. “We don’t have any plans for today.”
Mandy smiled, kissed his cheek then set the food on the table and pulled out the orange juice.
“Today would make a nice start. Please drive to visit.”
Just then he heard a clicking sound registering another call—it was Tom. “Father, can you hold on a minute? I have to take another call.”
“Joseph, this is most rude.”
“Sorry.” Joe clicked over to get Tom’s call, joining Mandy at the table. “Hey, dude, what’s the verdict?”
“It’s a go. We’ll need to get together to do some practicing this week and next so we don’t suck.”
“Maybe we can play some of the new stuff at the concert.”
“I like it. Give it a try on a friendly crowd.”
“That always helps, Tom.” Joe dished up some eggs and grabbed some bacon, eating some quickly before replying. “Eddie and Carly will get back here later. We can sort something out. Call Zach and confirm, will ya? My old man’s on hold.”
“Will do.” Tom chuckled. “Tell the Teutonic gent hello from us.”
“As if…” Joe laughed. “Later, man.”
“Later.”
Joe took a deep breath and returned to his father. “I’m back.”
“What was so important that you must rudely interrupt me as I was talking?”
“We set up a gig for next weekend and needed to finalize things.”
Leo snorted. “A gig? At some dreadful bar?”
“No, it’s at a damn nice bar, actually.”
“Don’t swear.”
“Sorry, Father.” Joe rolled his eyes and Mandy grinned at him as she started eating. Joe forked some eggs into his mouth.
“Are you eating in my ear?”
“That’s generally what one does this early in the morning. It’s only nine a.m. you know.”
“Most civilized people eat at seven a.m.”
“We had a gig last night.”
“Ah. Well, it is rude to crunch in my ear.”
“Sorry,” he muttered, counting to ten…again. He wasn’t going to wait to eat, damn it. The food was hot now. He turned the phone so he could listen without his father hearing him eat.
“Now, then. We shall expect you promptly at one p.m. for luncheon.” Leopold waited for Joe to respond.
“Yes, Father. We’ll be there at one.”
“Your brothers will be pleased to see you too, I’m sure. Both said they have not had the pleasure of your compa
ny even once since they moved to Denver.” Joe winced at the reprimand.
“Our schedules haven’t meshed.”
“Then you can renew your relationships today. Splendid. We look forward to seeing you.”
“Um…yeah.”
“Language, Joseph.”
“Right.”
“Oh, and Joseph?”
“Yes?”
“Bring the Hauser with you.”
“But…”
“With all of us under the same roof we can play together again. It will be pleasant.”
“But it would be rude to Mandy.”
“Doesn’t she like real music?”
“Yes, she does but…”
“Players always need an audience.”
“I’ll bring my camera and snap photos while you all play,” Mandy said loud enough for Leopold to hear. He cleared his throat.
“How…nice.”
“Yeah, isn’t it? See you later, Father. Did Mother want to talk to me?”
“You can speak when you arrive later. Goodbye, son.” His father hung up and Joe groaned, flipping his phone closed.
“Shit.”
Mandy set her hand on his arm and leaned over to kiss him. “C’mon. What’s so bad about this?”
“You haven’t met Leopold Schwarzerwulf yet.”
“Leopold who?”
“Schwarzerwulf. It’s Blackwolf in German. My father kept his name from the old country.”
“He’s German?”
“Austrian. His family immigrated to the United States after the war in 1950, but he’s as Teutonic as they come.”
“Were they Nazis?”
“Hell, no.” Joe shook his head fiercely. He’d heard his father almost spit the names of Nazi officers when he watched the History Channel. “Grandfather fought in the resistance. Father has a good memory of his early years and the horrible conditions just after the war. He doesn’t talk much about those days but he’s fiercely loyal to his adopted home. Scary loyal sometimes.”
“Oh.”
“Oh God…” Joe shivered. The Hauser. He hadn’t practiced with it in days. Damn it.
“Joe, what is it?”
“He told me to bring the Hauser.”
“A gun?”
“Not a howitzer. A Hauser. It’s a fine guitar that Father gave me when I was a boy just starting out with classical guitar lessons.”
“Why did he pick a Hauser?”
“Segovia played a Hauser.” He shrugged then smiled wickedly at her as he assumed his father’s attitude and accent. “Joseph, I shall give you a fine instrument and you must treat it well. Our family plays music, my son. Not that modern rock rubbish.”
Mandy blinked. “Did he actually say that?”
“Yeah.”
“He and Eddie are gonna be great buddies.”
“Completely.” Joe laughed and kissed her. When Nessun Dorma started to play from his phone, he groaned and flipped it phone open. “Hey, Jake. What’s up?”
“Father called for a command performance.”
“I know.”
“Then he called you first?”
“Must have.”
“He said you’d be bringing your guitar and he hoped I’d be ready to sing.”
“You are. You sing all the time.”
“But not for Father.”
“Tell me about it, bro. I’ll see you later.”
“Hey, is he for real? You found your True Mate?”
Joe glanced at Mandy, smiling. “Yeah, I did.”
“That’s great. See you at one.”
“Bye.”
“Who’s Jake?”
“One of my brothers—the opera singer one. Look I need to go get my guitar. I haven’t practiced. I need to practice before we leave.”
“Now?”
“Yeah. I should be able to get in at least two hours—maybe three.”
As Joe stood to go out to the bus, his phone started playing again—Rondeau this time. That completed the set.
“The Masterpiece Theater theme?” Mandy asked.
“My brother Julian plays trumpet—he was just accepted as a lecturer in applied trumpet at the University of Colorado.” He flipped the phone open. “Hey, Jules. Father call you too?”
“Yeah. True Mate, man? Why didn’t you tell us?”
“’Cause it happened last night, okay?”
“Holy shit.”
“Language, Julian.”
Jules laughed. “He’s been at you already, huh?”
“Yeah. Damn, I haven’t practiced properly with the Hauser in days.”
“Wing it. You’re the best of us.”
“Bullshit.”
“Father thinks so.”
“No way.”
“He does too. He always says what a fine musician you are.”
“Like he knows anymore,” Joe grumbled. “Look, I’ve got to practice. I’m rusty.”
“Okay. Don’t sweat it. Even if you haven’t played the damn thing in months, you’ll wipe the floor with Jake and me.”
“Not true. But thanks for the vote of confidence. See you at one.”
“See you then.”
Without a backward glance, Joe headed for the bus to get his guitar.
Chapter Eight
Mandy frowned as Joe walked out the door. Hadn’t he been attempting to get her back into bed not ten minutes ago? She finished eating as he came in carrying a guitar case and a garment bag.
“What’s in there?” She pointed at the garment bag.
“Suit. Can I hang it in your room?”
“Sure.” He left the kitchen with barely a glance in her direction. “Damn it,” she muttered, getting up to follow him. What the hell was going on? When she entered the bedroom, the garment bag hung from her closet door and Joe was hunting along the walls for something.
“What are you looking for?”
“An outlet. I need to tune.”
“Let me help,” Mandy purred, walking over to slide her arms around him. She pressed a hot kiss against the side of his throat. He growled, pulling her close. She lifted her face and he covered her mouth, delving inside with his tongue. As quickly as he’d started, he withdrew and set her aside.
“I’m sorry, angel, but I have to practice.” He looked around. “I think I better go to the living room or maybe the bus. Less tempting.” He grabbed his guitar case and walked out the door.
“Well, really.” Mandy huffed in disbelief, following him.
He stopped in the living room and tugged a small footstool over. Then he plugged in his tuner and finally settled himself in an antique straight chair. He put one foot up on the footstool and set about tuning the instrument he’d pulled from the case. As soon as he had the guitar tuned he started in with finger exercises.
“Joe?”
“Hmmm?”
“Don’t you want to go back to bed for a while?”
“Can’t,” he muttered, his attention on his guitar.
“Would you please explain what’s going on?”
Finally he looked up, annoyance in every line of his face. “I already did. I…need…to…practice.”
“Why? Why is this so important, Joe?”
He shook his head and waved her away, focusing on his guitar.
She wanted to scream and throw things at him. Instead, she left the room. There was obviously no talking to him right now. Her best conclusion was that her True Mate was an asshole. Just her luck to get a jerk. She shook her head and went to the kitchen to clean up the dishes.
In the kitchen she stared at his half-full plate. He’d eaten almost nothing. She considered putting his plate in the refrigerator, but decided not to. Scrambled eggs would get rubbery. She threw the eggs away and put the cooked bacon in the fridge. She could always crumble it over salad later.
Mandy could hear him continue to work through fingering exercises, stumbling a couple of times then going over the same fingerings again and again. Maybe Eddie was right—because mating a gu
itar player sucked so far. She cocked her head when the music stopped.
“Mandy would you please quit thinking so loud? I can’t concentrate,” Joe shouted.
She restrained a strangled scream. Go to hell, fella. She thought as hard at him as she could.
She felt something click in her mind and realized that somehow he locked her out. Then she heard him begin to play again. That lousy son of a bitch. Fuck this. She was not going to sit around here while he ignored her. It was time to take a shower, get dressed and go for a walk to see if she could figure out what the hell was going on.
* * * * *
Joe arched his back and set his guitar away from him. He felt a little better about facing his father now. He’d gotten worried at first, missing all those fingerings. He flexed his hands then stood up. He needed a shower and he needed to get dressed. He glanced at the clock on the mantle. They had to leave in just over an hour to make it to his parents’ home by one. They couldn’t be late. Damn, Leopold would have his hide.
He went to the kitchen to look for Mandy. The kitchen was clean…and empty. He went to the fridge and took out some cold bacon strips to eat. He headed for her bedroom. Empty too, but she’d showered. He found damp towels folded along the side of the tub and on racks beside the shower stall. The room smelled like her and he shifted as his cock stiffened. Damn, he wanted to fuck her. But where the hell was she?
Joe went through the place from top to bottom. No Mandy. Anywhere. Now he was pissed. This little trip to visit his parents was her idea, damn it. If she didn’t show up soon, they’d be late.
Joe heard a pickup truck pull up behind the house and prayed it was Mandy. He went out to the back porch then swallowed hard. She was laughing down into Zach’s face as he helped her out of the bed of the pickup. He opened the door and went out into the cold.
“How the hell would you guys have gotten home if I hadn’t been driving past?” Zach asked Mandy, laughing.
“We woulda walked.”
“Then why did you ask me?”
“’Cause you live next door, silly.” She glanced over and saw Joe, her eyes clouding and her smile fading. “Look. Zach gave us a ride in from downtown.”
“Yeah. I see that.”
Joe blinked a couple of times, wishing the damn wind wasn’t making his eyes tear up. And he was sure his chest only felt tight because he was hungry. He wasn’t hurt. No way. He turned and went back into the kitchen to get some food.
“Did you finish practicing?” Mandy asked quietly.
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