The Maestro

  “I have to be there until midnight. Then it’ll take hours in the crowds to get home.”

  He wouldn’t get in until the early morning. Disappointment plucked at me too. “I’ll likely be asleep when you get here. Just wake me.”

  He wrinkled his nose as if he didn’t like the idea. “That seems rude.”

  “If you wake me nicely, it won’t be.” I crawled to the edge of his bed and knelt up to put my hands on his tuxedo jacket lapels and kissed him, an I’ll-miss-you kiss.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with this and you don’t want to come with me?” He set his hands on my upper arms, squeezing lightly. Angling his head, he kissed along my cheek and down to the spot on my neck that drove me wild.

  Heat spiraled from his lips and through my entire body. “I understand how the business works. You have obligations, and I don’t want to be in the way.”

  He brushed his lips over my cheeks, my chin, along my throat. “You wouldn’t be in the way.”

  I leaned away, giving myself a moment to clear my head. “When you kiss me like that, I can’t think. If I go with you, we’d spend the whole night having to explain our relationship.”

  He sighed. “People don’t care about what we do. They’re worried about themselves and their lives. I wish you’d come with me.”

  “I don’t belong there.”

  He slipped an arm around my waist and drew me against his big, hard body. “I disagree. You belong with me.”

  The words did something to me, struck at a part of my heart I’d been trying to keep sheltered. I pushed lightly on his chest, and he released me. “Go and come home when you’re done. We’ll celebrate tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Three hours later, I’d reviewed the symphony’s travel plans, and boredom and loneliness hounded me with every passing minute.

  Kieran would be schmoozing at a glitzy party, women fawning over him, adoring him, touching him, asking him to play or sing or tell stories about his adventures. Instead of waiting here alone, I should go out and do something fun, even if that something was buying a bottle of wine and toasting the new year alone.

  Kieran had wine in the house, but I wouldn’t open it without him.

  I walked to the liquor store, which turned out to be a lot farther than I’d estimated from my phone’s directions. A mile and a half in the cold dragged on endlessly.

  The liquor store in Kieran’s neighborhood was bigger and nicer than the one in mine. Lots of choices and no racks of $5.99 wine, which bummed out my budget.

  “Rae? What are you doing in this part of town?”

  I turned at the sound of Greg’s voice and greeted him with a hug. “Getting some wine.”

  He raked his hands through his brown hair, causing stubborn pieces to fall back over his eyes. “I haven’t seen you around the apartment.”

  “I’ve been staying with a friend.”

  He gave a half-hearted laugh and shoved his hands into the deep pockets of his baggy jeans. “Heat’s fixed supposedly, but my place is cold. Doesn’t get above fifty.”

  He had a larger place than mine with higher ceilings. “I’m sorry. That’s awful. I hate trying to sleep when I’m cold.”

  “It is what it is. Big plans for tonight?” Since our brief dating experience, we hadn’t hung out, but miraculously, things weren’t weird between us either. I considered myself lucky that Greg didn’t have a fragile ego.

  “Just me and the wine,” I said, holding up the bottle.

  His eyebrow lifted, disappearing under his bangs. “Why don’t you come out with me? My buddy’s having a party in the warehouse district. Just a few of us hanging out. It’ll be a blast.”

  It sounded better than going to Kieran’s, or sitting huddled by my space heater in my apartment, sipping wine alone and going to bed by myself. “Okay, text me the address.”

  “You want to ride together? Split a cab?”

  What did I have to lose? Jeans and a black T-shirt wouldn’t fit in at a fancy party, but Greg wore much the same, a plaid shirt and jeans with beat-up beige boots. I’d straightened my hair that morning and it hung over my shoulders, so it’d hopefully stay halfway decent through the night.

  Thirty minutes later, we walked up rusted metal stairs to an apartment on the third floor of a brick building that might’ve once been a manufacturing plant. The lettering on the outside wall had been scraped off by weather and time, so I couldn’t read what it’d said. My stomach clenched, and I clutched the bottle of wine in my hand, a flash of nerves striking along with a sense I might’ve made a bad decision. Then again, this had to be better than being alone tonight.

  Greg knocked on the rusty door, and a man pulled it open. “Greg! And his girlfriend!” The guy stumbled into the doorjamb and laughed.

  Greg jerked a thumb at me. “This is Rae. She’s a friend.”

  “I brought wine,” I said, thinking I should’ve bought a bigger bottle.

  “Come on in, and I’ll introduce you,” Greg said, walking past the friend, who’d shut the door but leaned against it as if catching his breath.

  As Greg went around the room and named names, I had the feeling that most of the people in the room thought Greg and I were a couple. It didn’t bother me. They were strangers to me and it didn’t matter what they thought.

  Why did the same scenario with Kieran upset me?

  I had more to lose with him. I couldn’t stand the idea of him introducing me as his friend. Or, worse, his roomie.

  The open window on the far side of the room let the frigid winter air whip inside. The fresh air helped with the distinct scent of smoke and skunked beer.

  The industrial interior of the apartment matched the exterior of the building, the walls the same brick, with exposed ceiling pipes and ducts and a concrete floor with unrecognizable marks. The furniture consisted of a cluster of mismatched couches, an orange one, a green one, and what might’ve once been a yellow one but was now stained brown. A chill rushed through me that had nothing to do with the cold.

  I tried to shake it off. Going outside my comfort zone could be good for me. Applying to graduate school, starting a new job… This counted as one more adventure.

  I sat next to Greg on one of the sagging couch cushions.

  He plucked at his plaid shirt. “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

  I told him about the Monarch School and applying to grad school. I avoided talking about the Maestro. Guilt fizzled and popped inside me, like I was lying or hiding something, but I didn’t know how to explain Kieran and me, and I didn’t want to have a conversation about our gray-area relationship with Greg.

  We opened the wine I’d bought and drank from huge red plastic cups. Not the New Year’s celebration I’d been hoping for. I couldn’t stop making the comparisons to being with Kieran. He wasn’t uptight or pretentious, but he lived with space and cleanliness and glass and gold.

  I touched the ring on my right hand. I wasn’t wearing it to mark myself for other people to see. Hard to explain why that little band of platinum meant so much to me.

  Greg told me about his work and how he was freelancing for a new publication. We talked about music, and as the night wore on, I relaxed and started to enjoy myself. He told me about a new music club in Hoboken that he’d visited several times, and I added it to my list of new places to try.

  More people flowed into the apartment, and as it grew more crowded, I was pushed closer to Greg on the couch. I’d been careful to only sip at my drink. I didn’t want to pack for the trip with a vicious headache.

  When I glanced at my phone, we had an hour until midnight. My stomach fell and my heart ached. I should be with Kieran. I should’ve gone to the party with him. Here, in this slightly musty-smelling warehouse, something was missing. An odd sense of warning sounded in my brain.

  Then everything happened at once.

  Police officers burst into the room. People started yelling and running for the exits. The police began arresting people.

&
nbsp; Greg ran, and I lost him in the chaos.

  I recognized Officer Sinclair with her red hair and imposing presence, who’d taken my statement the night I’d been assaulted at the art gallery. We exchanged glances, and I caught the flash of recognition in her eyes, but there were many people rushing between us, I stayed quiet and still. My hands shook and I wanted to run, but she’d seen me, and she remembered me.

  People were running or being arrested, and I didn’t know what to do or why the police had been called.

  Officer Sinclair approached. “Rae Davis, right? Are you involved in this?”

  At this point, I was two half plastic cups of wine to the wind. “What is this? Too many people at the party? Like a fire code issue?”

  She lifted her brow and shook her head slowly. “Owner of the property called. No one should be in here, and we picked up a few people outside with ecstasy and marijuana.”

  Dread coiled around me. How was I going to get out of here without huge blowback? I was a teacher! If I got arrested trespassing and breaking and entering and being around drugs, my boss would have something to say about it. “I came with a friend. I thought it was his friend’s place. I’ve been drinking cheap wine,” I said, pointing to the bottle I’d bought at the liquor store, now on the floor by the ugly yellow couch. “But I swear to you, that’s all.”

  She nodded. “You’re drunk?”

  No point in lying. “Yes.”

  “This is a rough neighborhood. We’ve been busting up these parties all night.”

  I hadn’t known, or I wouldn’t have been here. I wasn’t a lawbreaker. Misery pressed down on me, and I cursed my bad luck. Of all the times to decide to test my limits, I had to choose this! “I thought it was just a party.”

  “Wait here.”

  She walked to her partner, who had partygoers lined up along the brick wall. I didn’t see Greg. He’d abandoned me.

  Greg hadn’t taken anything illegal that I’d seen, although we’d be in trouble for being here. My heart pounded loudly in my ears, and my stomach tightened painfully. I took deep breaths, knowing I had to think clearly and talk my way out of this.

  When Officer Sinclair returned, she kept her voice low. “You can go. Don’t get in any more trouble tonight. Do you have a way home?”

  I shook my head. “I’m staying with a friend in Murray Hill.”

  “That’s ten miles from here.”

  I groaned. I didn’t have enough money for a cab ride, and since it was New Year’s, I likely wouldn’t see any cabs on the street. Walking ten miles while drunk, not sure where I was going, and through sketchy neighborhoods was a terrible way to start the new year.

  Officer Sinclair gestured at me to follow her into the stairwell. “Call someone. Have them come get you.”

  My vision blurred, and panic tore through me. I didn’t have anyone to call. Kieran didn’t carry a cell phone. Vanessa wouldn’t answer my call. Greg had taken off. My sister lived too far away. I couldn’t call my colleagues. I didn’t want anyone at the school to know about this.

  Glory’s name came to mind. After the manipulation with traveling and my job, she owed me a favor. I called her while Officer Sinclair waited. If I didn’t find anyone to collect me, would she arrest me?

  Glory answered. “Rae, darling, how are you?”

  “I have a situation. Could you come pick me up? Or send a car to get me?”

  The sound of Glory’s heels snapping against the floor came through the phone. “Where are you? You sound scared.”

  “In the warehouse district.” I gave her the cross streets and a two-sentence recap of what’d happened.

  “Are you hurt?” she asked.

  “Just drunk, and I need a ride.”

  “I’ll make arrangements.”

  I tried to smile confidently at the police officer. “My friend is sending someone.”

  She nodded. “Make it fast and get gone. Safely, okay?”

  Then she returned to helping her partner inside the apartment. I left the building, finding the outside air not much colder than it’d been inside. I walked around the corner and sat on the cracked and crumbling front steps of a boarded-up building. Out of sight was best.

  I wasn’t dressed for the weather or a long walk, although walking ten miles would probably warm me up. I fiddled with my phone. Should I start walking? Or should I wait where I’d told Glory I’d be?

  I waited because I remembered being told as a child that if I got lost, I should stop moving to make it easier for someone to locate me.

  Right now, I definitely felt lost.

  My phone’s battery was losing power too. Should I turn it off to preserve it? What if Glory tried to call me?

  Not for the first time that night, I regretted coming out. I should’ve stayed at Kieran’s.

  I wiggled my toes in my shoes and flexed my fingers, trying to warm up.

  I did what I frequently did while drunk: I thought of the worst parts of life and the hundreds of ways I’d screwed up this year.

  The list: I’d almost been arrested. I’d failed at speed dating. I’d gone to a party in a random place. I was drunk on cheap wine and would be hungover tomorrow.

  And, despite trying not to be, I was in love with Kieran Gallagher.

  The black limo pulled up, and I stood. It had to be Glory. She cruised around the city in style.

  Kieran stepped out, worry written across his face. Nathan opened the driver’s side door, his brow furrowed and moving like he’d confront anyone who got in his way.

  My heart hammered. Kieran rushed to me, wrapping his arms around me. “What’s going on? Why are you out here? I thought you were staying at my place.”

  “Why did you leave your party?” I asked. The donors wanted to see him. They’d get mad and withhold donations.

  “You called Glory and said you were in trouble. She and I were at the same party. Did you think I wouldn’t come?”

  Of course they’d been together. All the important music people were at that party, and the lowlife music people were at this crappy party or ones like it. I thought of my colleagues at the school maybe home with their families, and my gut tugged hard.

  How had I gotten here? I had dreams and plans for my life. I’d made changes. But I was still here.

  The Maestro clasped my hands between his. “Your hands are cold. Get in the car.”

  I hated that this had happened. I didn’t want to tell him about Greg and the party. I climbed into the car, the warmth inside stinging my face and hands. I kept my explanation simple. “I’m drunk. I went to a party. An illegal party, apparently.”

  He watched me as I stared at the buildings around me, unwilling to meet his gaze. His worry bore into me, which made me feel worse. “You didn’t have to stay alone at the house. If you’d wanted to come with me, you could have.”

  Nathan glanced in the rearview mirror. “I’m glad you’re okay, Rae. I think the Maestro would’ve lost his mind if something had happened to you.”

  Guilt doubled inside me, weighing on my whole body.

  Nathan pulled away from the curb, and I relaxed into the heated plush leather seat.

  I wasn’t part of Kieran’s world.

  Even as his assistant, I’d been part of it, because people wanted him. No one cared about me or wanted me there. More than that, we weren’t the same. I taught music to children. I wasn’t even his girlfriend, a status that might’ve given me some ability to attend events with him as a plus one.

  He was screwing around with me, playing with me like a new instrument he’d never held before, never played, and that he found amusing. But I’d never be his instrument of choice, never his precious piano or his million-dollar violin. “No one invited me.”

  His gaze burned into me. Kieran could generate the loudest silences in the world.

  I refused to meet his gaze. What would I find on his face? Anger? Disappointment? Annoyance? I didn’t have the words to make this better. I tried for truth. “I was lonely. I thou
ght about you kissing someone at midnight. I went for wine and ran into a friend. He invited me to a party, and I went, then we got arrested. Well, he didn’t. He ran. The officer was the same one from the art gallery, and she had mercy on me. I called Glory because you don’t carry a cell phone.”

  Now I turned to face him. His eyes were narrowed, his mouth flattened into a hard line, and his hands shook. “A friend? What friend?”

  “Greg.” He pinned me with a harsh stare. This wasn’t jealousy. It was something else.

  “He ran away when the police came?” Kieran asked.

  I patted my pockets looking for a hair band and came up short. A fight was brewing, and I welcomed it. “I hope he’s safe.”

  Nathan mumbled something from the front seat that sounded like “Wimp.”

  Kieran’s silence infuriated me, and my nails bit into my palms. “What? Say it, Maestro. Just say it.” Why was I picking a fight? I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be logical and argue.

  Anger flashed in his eyes. His cheeks had gone red. “You put yourself in danger. You lied to me. I was terrified something bad had happened to you.”

  “I didn’t lie.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “We aren’t fighting while you’re drunk.”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “I want to go home.”

  “We are.”

  Frustration flooded through me at how little he understood. “I meant to my place.”

  He tossed his hands in the air. “Why? Why do you insist on going back there?”

  I kept my anger in check. “I live there.”

  “You’re safe with me. You know I’d never let harm come to you.” His voice turned soft and caring, which inexplicably exacerbated my alcohol-fueled rage.

  “I like my place. I want to be cold and alone. I’m not really safe with you.”

  He said something in another language. “Not safe with me? Have I done something that has put you at risk? Ever?”

  I’d fallen in love with him, and he could smash my heart. He would smash my heart. When this ended, I’d be broken into a million irreparable pieces. Was that enough of a risk? Enough of a hurt? “Yes.”