The Maestro

  “The auditions are going to be Monday evening. Will you come?” she asked.

  Panic flailed around inside me. “Why do you need me there? Judging isn’t usually open to the public.”

  “I need you there. Kieran and Glory will have expectations of me, and I’ll let them down. You need to tell me what to do.”

  “I can tell you over the phone. Stay close to the Maestro and bring him drinks and food when he seems grumpy.”

  She laughed. “Oh, come on, you do more than that.”

  I did, but Vanessa couldn’t read music well or play with any expertise. “Help them keep notes or help backstage. Keep track of the auditions and their names. I sometimes take a picture or record the audition to refer back to later.”

  Vanessa sighed. “I know you’re busy, but I’ll owe you another big favor. I can’t screw this up. I feel like I’m finally getting better at this job.”

  She’d badger me until I agreed. Plus, I loved hearing new musicians. I had to see the Maestro at some point, and the public space of the symphony hall seemed as good a spot as any. There’d be more pressure for me to maintain my professionalism, which I might need. “Okay, I’ll come.”

  “Kieran will be thrilled.”

  Hard stop. “Wait, did he ask you to call me?” I asked, my heart beating faster.

  “No, but I see how he gets when you’re around. I used to be jealous of you two, but it’s something he and I can work on. Eventually, we can be as close as you two. I can learn more about music. I can do everything you’ve done for him.”

  My stomach turned. She had no idea how off the mark she was.

  I kept my mouth shut and didn’t let the comment get under my skin, because she didn’t know anything about us. I played it cool. “I’ll be there. No worries.”

  * * *

  I arrived at the symphony hall at five in the evening to help Glory to set up. Dark circles ringed her eyes. She’d likely been at work early, catching up on her own work after helping at the Monarch School.

  “Thank you for filling in at the school for me. The students can’t stop talking about how much they loved your class.”

  Glory smiled and fluffed her curly hair. “I had fun doing it. They have some talented students. But I’m more interested in your trip. Kieran won’t talk about you or what happened in Europe.”

  Her bluntness startled me. “There’s nothing to tell.”

  Glory adjusted the lights on the stage. “Plenty to tell. I’ve been watching from the sidelines, and there’s something between you. Did you finally tell him?”

  That I was in love with him? No way. “No.”

  “But he told you?” she asked.

  “Told me what?” I asked.

  “How he felt about you,” she said with a hint of exasperation.

  What had gone on between me and Kieran was private, and I didn’t want to let anyone else in. “He told me we were best friends.”

  Glory frowned and set a hand on her hip. “Not sure I’ve had a man tell me that exactly.”

  Then Kieran appeared, wearing a white shirt, gray pants, and a plush black sweater that hugged his upper body. He embraced Glory in greeting and then wrapped his arms around me. He lingered, and I wanted to press in close and kiss him, but I controlled myself.

  He leaned away from me, holding my upper arms. Those intense dark eyes melted me and unleashed a wave of desire. “Thank you for coming. This is a big day for the orchestra. You’ll sit with me?”

  “I thought I’d help the musicians backstage.” They needed numbers assigned and their nerves calmed.

  Glory darted a glance between us. “I’ll work backstage.”

  “That’s against the rules,” I reminded her. “No one with a voting say can see the candidates. The acoustics are better out here.”

  Vanessa joined us, straightening her black pencil dress. “I’ll help backstage. You can assist the Maestro. Glory can focus on listening.”

  Everyone seemed pleased with their arrangements, so I went along with it.

  We took our seats, and Vanessa went backstage. She’d escort the candidates out one at a time, keeping them behind the curtains and then behind a screen while they played their selected piece.

  I sat next to Kieran. The rest of the voting committee sat across the auditorium, selecting their spots based on where they believed they’d hear best.

  I loved the diversity in the sounds. Kieran had an ear for precision, but passion and experimentation and creativity were also important.

  After the eighth performer, he leaned over to me. “You didn’t come over last week to spend the night with me.”

  Heat rose up my neck. I glanced around to be sure no one had heard. “We’re not on tour.”

  His hand covered mine and squeezed. “But you slept at my place before the trip. Can we do that again?”

  My skin tingled as I fought the urge to press closer to him.

  We couldn’t. Among other things, we’d crossed the line and he’d taken my virginity. I couldn’t pretend to be unaffected by it. He’d play a role in my life until the end of my days. I’d remember him as my first, and that I was in love with him only made that connection stronger. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  He stared at me. “You thought about leasing a room from me while you saved for a new place.”

  “That was an idea we tossed out there.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t want this to happen. What went on between us in Europe was incredible, and I worried that you’d have this reaction. That you’d realize I was the wrong man for you and you’d pull away. I don’t mean sex. You’re pulling your friendship away.”

  I swallowed hard. The wrong man for me… A true statement in many ways. I loved him and wanted his love in return, but he wouldn’t give it to me, and in that way, we wanted different things.

  “Maestro, are you ready?” Vanessa called.

  A dozen heads turned in our direction.

  “Not yet,” he called back. “Give me a minute.”

  I kept my voice low even as tension tightened my vocal cords. A group of nervous musicians waited to perform. We shouldn’t be talking about this now. “I’ll never pull my friendship, Maestro. But please be aware that what happened, while I was an eager and willing participant, was emotional for me.”

  He laced his fingers with mine. “Emotional for me too.”

  Our intertwined hands nearly shattered my control. “It’s hard for me to keep boundaries with you now. If I need a minute to breathe and think away from you, it’s not that you’ll lose me in your life completely. I’ll get my head around everything, and then I’ll be fine.” As I’d needed to do when I quit working for him.

  “You told me you loved me.”

  “What?” The word left on a shout, and I repeated it in a hushed tone. “I did not say that.” Out loud.

  He tapped his finger against his lips. “You did. Three years ago in Paris, after one of our concerts. You mistook your drink for wine, and you were drunk. You threw up on me. I took you back to your hotel room, and you said it.”

  Dread curled inside me. “I remember the night in Paris.” I spoke each word slowly, working over what he’d revealed.

  “I didn’t know if you meant it. I didn’t know if you’d even known what you’d said.”

  “I shouldn’t have said it.”

  “Maestro?” Vanessa’s voice.

  “Another minute,” he responded, sounding irritated. “Then you didn’t mean it?”

  Panic overruled sanity. I’d said I loved him three years ago, and he’d never brought it up. Never once in three years? Did he think of it often? “Let not discuss that right now.”

  “That night, you were carrying a rose. A few petals fell off, and you tucked them in my pocket. I kept them as a reminder that it’d happened.”

  “The roses in your bedside table?”

  He nodded.

  The entire world shifted. I struggled to make sense of
his words. “I told you I loved you, and you saved the rose petals from that night?”

  “Yes.”

  I felt like my head was being held underwater and I couldn’t see clearly or hear straight. “I need you to tell me what you want from me, right now, today and tomorrow and the days after that.”

  “It’s not enough to do what we’ve been doing?” He asked the question as if he knew the answer.

  “It’s not enough. Not for me. Not anymore. I need more.”

  “I don’t know what more I have to give.”

  My heart sank, and I struggled for composure. “You were honest about that, and now I’m being honest too that what we’re doing, what we did in Europe, might not be enough.”

  His eyes went stony and hard. “Okay, I’m caught up,” he called back to Vanessa.

  He squeezed my hand as another instrumentalist came onto the stage and started playing.

  I loved watching Kieran work. He closed his eyes and listened. I could tell by subtle changes in his face when he liked the music and when the performer made a mistake.

  After each audition, the other judges scribbled notes. Kieran did nothing. He knew what he was listening for, and when he found it, he’d be happy.

  15

  I received a gold-printed invitation to the symphony’s latest performance featuring a new score from Kieran.

  He was releasing a piece of his music when the whole remained unfinished? I struggled to understand this incongruous information. It’d been two weeks since the orchestra’s European tour. He could’ve gone on a work bender and finished the piece. He’d been playing with the parts for two years, and compiling them into something audibly interesting should be straightforward for him.

  I’d been thinking about our last conversation. The rose petals. His reaction to me drunkenly telling him that I loved him. I hadn’t been alone in my evolving feelings.

  We’d been strangers, then coworkers, colleagues, friends…then I’d fallen in love with him and become his lover. Now, we spoke infrequently, but he remained in my heart and thoughts constantly.

  I had to attend the performance. Not only would it be sold out and undoubtedly the talk of the music world, I’d heard so many pieces of it over time, curiosity got the best of me about it’d come together and how he’d react to me being there.

  I planned to wear the dress I’d worn to the season ender two years ago. The simple style meant it was in fashion, the figure-hugging black dress perfect for all occasions. I had a great pair of black heels to go with it. Though Kieran would know I was in attendance, I’d play it cool.

  He had to make the next move. He had to decide what he wanted and if he’d choose me as his friend or more.

  I counted down the days until the performance. When the night arrived, I took my seat, the one Kieran thought had the optimal acoustics in the whole hall, which sent a thrill through me. He’d wanted me to have this spot, where the sound would be best. I touched the arms of the chair, knowing he’d sat here many times listening to the orchestra playing.

  This seat meant everything.

  His piece was being debuted first as a preview. There was no mention of when the whole symphony would be performed, and I guessed Kieran would be reluctant to commit to it.

  Kieran walked out onto the stage to thunderous applause. In the blinding stage lighting, he wouldn’t be able to see me.

  He turned to face the orchestra. The tension in the room rose high, anticipation stamped on the faces of everyone around me, including the musicians playing, as if everyone held their breath.

  Then they started.

  I heard much of the Maestro in the music. The violins started the piece, the flutes, oboes, and clarinets joining after a few measures. The trombone and French horn punctuated the music at key points and the percussion section kept a low, steady rhythm. The entire string section harmonized beautifully with the melody. It brought tears to my eyes. The composition, though short compared to what the finished work would be, showed promise.

  The final score would be out of this world, perhaps the greatest music written in a century.

  When the last note was struck, Kieran lowered his baton, his head dropping as if he were exhausted. I held my breath, worry encapsulating me. Had he been disappointed with the performance? From what I’d heard in this primo seat, it’d been wonderful, remarkable, a work of pure, raw genius.

  Then he turned, and I let out the breath I’d been holding. His expression told me everything I needed to know. He’d heard it and loved it. Pride shone in his eyes.

  The entire audience sprang to their feet, clapping wildly. He gestured to the performers behind him. Then he stepped off the platform and starting walking toward me. He’d gone halfway up the aisle when the house lights came on.

  Our gazes connected as he strode another ten steps.

  As he entered my row, he held out his hand and moved in front of the other patrons, murmuring, “Excuse me,” as he passed.

  Our fingers linked, and I stood.

  He drew me against him, his hard frame pressed to mine, bringing to my body the same excitement the music had to my ears. “What did you think?” he asked.

  I caught my breath. “It was wonderful.”

  “I couldn’t see you from up there. I needed to hear the words from you.”

  I considered that. He understood why the words might be necessary. That was growth.

  “The words are important,” I agreed.

  The recognition in his eyes told me he understood what I’d meant.

  He brought his mouth close to my ear so I could hear him over the enthusiastic applause. “I wrote the music for you. You’re in every note, every chord, and every nuance. You’re my muse. You’re my world. You’re everything to me. When you aren’t here, I feel lost. I love you with everything I have inside me. I know I can be difficult, but my life without you is impossible.”

  A coherent response stuttered to a stop in my throat.

  Kieran took my hand and led me out of the row. Despite the clapping, a silence fell around me. His words replayed in my mind, and I struggled to process them. I almost didn’t want to believe them or believe what they meant.

  He led me down the red carpet of the aisle, toward the orchestra, and up the wood stairs. My feet moved of their own accord, and if he hadn’t been holding my hand as if I were the most precious being in his world, I’d have crumpled to the floor in embarrassment at being the center of attention.

  He stopped on the stage, bowed, and then led me behind the curtains into a darker corner of the hall.

  Now we were alone. He wrapped his arms around me. “Be with me. Please be mine. I’ll always be yours.”

  “But you said…”

  “I said foolish things. I ran away from what I wanted. I pretended that I wasn’t falling for you, that you weren’t the center of my world. It’s been two years. I couldn’t compose because I kept everything locked inside me, trying to pretend I didn’t feel anything. And then, when I gave myself over to my love for you, when I let myself love you openly, without holding back, without ignoring that my every heartbeat was for you, everything came back into the light.”

  “Two years?” I asked.

  “At least that. I’ve loved you at least that long, and I’ll love you for the rest of my life. I’ll be the man you need. A lover, a husband, anything you want from me is yours.”

  I leaned away from him and stared into his dark eyes. I had questions that were answered in his intense, loving expression. I brought my lips to his and kissed him.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “It’s a hard yes, Kieran.”

  Always a master of timing and rhythm, Kieran tilted me back in his arms and kissed me long and deep.

  Epilogue

  Life would be much busier in September, but for now, I’d enjoy the weather in Belfast and allow Kieran to show me the places in Ireland that mattered to him: his childhood home, the schools he’d attended, and the places where he liked to e
at.

  We visited his mother’s grave and attended church early one morning.

  According to my email, the textbooks I’d ordered had been delivered to the house, and the housekeeper had brought them inside and left them in the office I’d once used when I worked for Kieran. Now, that space would be my office for completing homework for graduate school and writing lesson plans for the Monarch School.

  I’d vacated my studio apartment with the big window and had moved in with Kieran and his plants. While I’d been on guard for the first six months expecting the whole thing to fall apart, sure that I’d either get on his nerves (or he’d get on mine) or I’d unintentionally end up as his assistant again, neither scenario had come true.

  My sister had given birth to a healthy baby girl they’d named Olivia, and we spent time traveling between New York and New Jersey to visit with her and lend a hand. Kieran didn’t mind Olivia’s screaming, and she did a lot of it.

  After spending more time with Kieran, my father had started to soften, and my mother had confided that he’d admitted he liked Kieran.

  Vanessa had given her notice, and I think both the orchestra and Kieran were relieved. She’d not done anything wrong, but it hadn’t seemed like a good fit from the beginning. She’d decided to go on tour with David Malone as his travel assistant, though I think she was angling for an engagement ring.

  Glory had interviewed new assistants, and this time, I’d helped. The candidate we’d chosen would start in a couple of weeks, and I hoped he’d enjoy the job.

  But this trip to Ireland had been planned for us to relax, and enjoy some downtime before the fall.

  That morning, Kieran told me he had plans to meet his brother for lunch. After I got over the shock of finding out Kieran had a brother, I got a little nervous about the idea.

  As we drove to meet this man, I started with the obvious. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

  “Half brother. We’re not close.”

  “No kidding. You’ve never even spoken his name. Why didn’t he come to your mother’s funeral?”