"Wonderful. The residence is in Upper Manhattan. Where will you be traveling from?"
"Uh, I'm in Brooklyn at the moment," Megan answered.
"Hmm," she heard the woman say on the other end of the phone. "We really don't have time for you to take a train. I can have a car pick you up. Please text me your address. Oh and do you have something appropriate to wear to a formal dinner?"
Megan's stomach dropped. She'd already taken all of her clothes to Kim's house, she thought in a panic. That's when she remembered the shopping bag she'd tossed in to the back of the bedroom closet. She'd block thoughts of the garments she purchased for her auditions from her mind after finding out she didn't make it into the Sero Institute.
The blue dress made her think of Stacey and she certainly didn't want that memory haunting her all night but the long full black skirt and ruffled white top she'd worn for her final audition would be perfect once she'd knocked the wrinkles out of it with Tony's steam iron.
"I have something appropriate," Megan confirmed.
"Perfect. Feel free to bring any classical sheet music you'd like," the woman continued as if she was checking off items on a list. "We'll also have a selection of music here that you can choose from. See you shortly."
It was only after the woman hung up that Megan realized she hadn't gotten her name. All she knew was that she was going to be playing at Winifred Sturgeon's dinner party. Megan tapped her phone and repeated the name for Siri.
"Winifred Sturgeon is a well-known New York socialite and founder of Sturgeon cosmetics. She is the daughter of coal magnate Horace Sturgeon, and heiress to the Sturgeon Industries fortune. Estimated net worth, 659 million dollars."
Megan almost dropped her phone. 659 million dollars. That's why spending $300 for some live music wasn't a big deal. Megan looked down at her hands wishing she had time for a manicure since she'd obviously be playing for a very wealthy audience but there wasn't any time for that. She'd barely be able to take a shower before the car service arrived to pick her up.
On the ride to the Upper East side, Megan wondered which of the employment agencies she'd signed up with got her the gig. She thought they were supposed to call her first before releasing her phone number but given the multi-million dollar client the agency was probably more than willing to break a few rules.
"Good evening, Ms. Green. I'm Alicia," said the short dark-haired woman who greeted her curbside.
Megan would have recognized the voice from the earlier phone call without the introduction.
"Hi Alicia. It's nice to put a face to the voice."
Alicia ushered Megan into a service elevator that deposited them in the interior of what must have been a huge residence. She then took Megan into an ornately decorated study -- or more accurately, library -- with floor to ceiling shelves lined with books that looked old and expensive. The huge windows that covered one side of the room provided a grandiose view of Central Park. Looking down, Megan could even see the top of the carousel that she and Stacey had ridden on their first New York excursion.
"Here's the sheet music we have," Alicia said pulling Megan's attention back into the room. She gestured to an ornate folder sitting on the nearby desk. "I'll leave you here for a moment to look this over. If you need to use the facilities before you begin, it's right this way."
Alicia stepped close to the bookshelf and pulled one of the ornate statues toward her causing half the wall to slide open like magic -- revealing a bathroom.
"I'll be back in ten minutes," Alicia said and then vanished through a giant door that made her look even more petite than she was.
Megan wished she had more than ten minutes to get her bearings but she didn't waste anytime. She used the restroom and then quickly shuffled through the sheet music Alicia showed her. Exactly ten minutes later, Alicia returned and escorted Megan into an empty room the size of a hotel ballroom.
The grand piano at the far end almost took her breath away. The intricately carved body was the unmistakable mark of a Steinway D-274. Megan knew piano's like this one could be worth millions and only in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined being able to play one herself.
"Thank you, Ms. Green," Alicia said as she gestured for Megan to sit down. "I'll come relieve you for your first break in forty minutes."
Megan nodded but she almost told Alicia not to bother. Once she started playing an instrument like this she wasn't sure she'd be able to stop until someone dragged her off of the piano bench. Megan placed the folder with the sheet music on the music stand but left it closed. Before focusing on those, there were several of her favorite pieces she needed to play on this magnificent instrument incase an opportunity like this never happened again.
She closed her eyes and began playing. Megan was so absorbed in the music that the polite applause that erupted after she finished startled her. She opened her eyes to more than twenty guests staring straight at her. The unexpected audience unnerved her and Megan could felt a trickle of sweat begin inching its way down her back. If she didn't do something to calm down quickly the soon coming river was going to glue her freshly pressed white shirt to her body.
Keep playing, Megan said to herself. You can do this, she thought taking a deep breath. Remember they were the ones who called you. Megan closed her eyes again and began to play. It only took her a few minutes to get lost in the music and the sounds of the admiring guest faded into the background like ambient noise.
Megan chose two of the longest pieces she knew so that her time on the piano could flow uninterrupted.
"That was lovely," a grey-haired man spoke from the far end of the piano when she finally stopped playing.
He was standing close, admiring the instrument but not leaning on it as if he was aware of its value.
"Thank you," Megan said softly.
"Do you take requests?" the man asked.
"Um. Well. I guess I could try," Megan said.
"How about Clementi's Op 47?"
It was a rather obscure piece by the Italian-born English composer but one Megan was familiar with. The piano coach she'd studied with in high school loved Muzio Clementi and Megan had learned more than a few of his works during that time.
"I think I remember some of it," Megan said tentatively. "I haven't played it in quite some time but I can give it a try."
The man nodded and Megan began to play. She made it through about six minutes of the piece before her memory gave out.
"That was very nice," the man said when Megan finished. "May I ask where you studied?"
"Oh, nowhere special," Megan said blushing. "My grandmother taught me at first. Then I took lessons from a few teachers back in Tulsa. Oklahoma," Megan clarified for some reason.
"And is the piano a professional aspiration of yours or do you just do this for pleasure?"
Megan felt something drop in her stomach. Confessing her resent failure to a complete stranger wasn't what she'd expected tonight.
"Well, I actually came to New York to audition for the Sero Institute." Megan paused. "But I didn't get in."
"So does this mean you're going back to Oklahoma?" the man asked.
"No. I figure since I'm here I might as well make the best of it," she said with a nervous laugh.
She was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable about all of the attention the man was showing her. It wasn't inappropriate in a sleazy kind of way, it just felt strange to be the center of attention at such an elegant gathering.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, dinner is served," a uniformed man near the door announced.
"Come, come, Adrik," a woman said as she slid up next to the older man -- ignoring Megan. "I don't want you to miss the Pirozhki appetizer I had the chef prepare especially for you."
"Of course, Winifred," the man said. He nodded to Megan and allowed the woman to pull him away.
So that was her, Megan thought as she watched the hostess and her guest leave the room. Megan was thinking how nice it would be to have some of the Pirozhki for herself. Sh
e loved the Russian meat filled, donut-like street food. That's when it hit her.
A Russian named Adrik who knew a lot about music! That man was Adrik Baranov the world renowned Russian pianist. He'd played with the most famous orchestras in the world and was responsible for launching the careers of more than a few young pianists.
Megan wanted to smack herself for not recognizing him sooner but before she could do herself any bodily harm, Adrik Baranov walked back into the room.
"Megan, I'm so sorry for leaving so abruptly. Our hostess can be a little --demanding," he said with a laugh. "But I just wanted tell you if you're interested in private study while you're here in New York, I'd be happy to work with you. You have real talent," he said with a slight bow as he handed Megan a business card.
This time instead of wanting to smack herself, Megan almost fell off the piano bench!
Chapter 19
It wasn't easy but Stacey managed to stay out of Megan's line of sight all evening -- although it did mean that the guests on the far end of the room near the piano may have missed a few of the passed hors d'oeuvres. But even though she avoided being seen, Stacey certainly didn't avoid seeing Megan -- or hearing her play.
The complicated, passionate music Megan played mocked Stacey's current emotional state. The sounds that had been so comforting to her for most of the summer, now pricked at Stacey's heart like tiny little knives. But maybe that's what she deserved. Maybe all the karma she'd wanted to punish people like Karen Grigsby with had fallen back on her because she'd momentarily considered Trish's offer.
"Well, that's it," Tim said when Stacey came back into the kitchen after clearing the dinner dishes. "You can call it a night. And please, take some of the Pirozhki home with you. I'll eat them all if you leave them."
Stacey packed a to-go bag, collected her check and was about to leave when Alicia appeared at the kitchen door.
"Stacey, before you go, Mrs. Sturgeon wanted to thank you for referring your friend to play the piano tonight. She was very pleased with her work."
Alicia extended her hand and gave Stacey an envelope and a small gift bag. Stacey already knew what was in the bag because she'd helped the party planner prepare them for the guests. Each bag was filled with samples of various skincare products from Winifred Sturgeon's cosmetic line. The free moisturizer alone made it a worthwhile thank you gift since the product cost at least $65 a jar in the store.
"Thanks," Stacey said with a smile.
She resisted opening the envelope until she got outside but once she did she let out a long whistle when she saw the crisp fifty-dollar bill inside. Not a bad referral fee, Stacey thought even if Megan would never know she was the person behind the opportunity.
As a treat for her selfless good deed, Stacey decided to take a rideshare home. She'd been on her feet for hours and the thought of walking to the subway and then walking home wasn't very appealing. However, she did have enough energy to walk down the block to the gourmet grocery store she'd noticed on her way to the event. Since Tim had offered none of the $160 a bottle wine that the guests had been served, Stacey thought she'd pick up a nice -- relatively inexpensive -- bottle of wine to have with her Russian comfort food.
With her wine in tow, Stacey tapped the rideshare app and selected a shared ride to her address in Brooklyn. Sharing the ride might make the trip home a little longer but it would certainly save her some money.
As she waited for the car to arrive, Stacey tried to keep her mind from wandering back to thoughts of Megan but she couldn't help wondering what her plans were now that she only had another week at Tony's place. Would the talented pianist stay in New York after all? Stacey couldn't guarantee she'd ever be in a position to refer Megan for a job again, so tonight might be the last time she'd ever see her. Stacey shrugged her shoulders ready to accept what seemed inevitable as her rideshare car pulled up to the curb. When she opened the back door of the car she almost stumbled into the gutter when she saw who was sitting inside.
"Hey! There must be something wrong with this app tonight," the driver said tapping his cell phone aggressively. "It's showing both of you going to the same address."
"That's correct," Megan said softly. "We live in the same building."
"Wow! That's never happened to me before," the driver said with a chuckle. "Talk about perfect timing!"
While the driver was clearly excited about the coincidence, all Stacey felt in the back of the car was tension.
"Hey," she said as she tried to get comfortable on the seat next to Megan.
Megan repeated the one-word greeting and then the car fell silent. Stacey kept her head facing forward, only sneaking glances at Megan in her peripheral vision. Was she angry? Stacey couldn't tell in the darkness which made her even more uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat, placing the gift bag in the space between her and Megan like a protective barrier. That's when she heard Megan inhale swiftly.
"It was you?" Megan said with surprise as she held up her identical gift bag. "You were the one who referred me to Mrs. Sturgeon?"
Stacey allowed herself to turn her head and look at Megan. "She was in a panic -- and I knew you'd do a great job," she said.
Megan let out a long breath and then seemed to relax a little more in her seat. "Thanks," she said softly. "It was... It was really nice of you to think of me."
All I've been doing is thinking about you, is what Stacey was about to say, but her declaration was cut short. The car came to an abrupt stop and two rather boisterous women got in -- one in the front seat and one in the back with Megan and Stacey. Whatever conversation was about to happen ended before it began.
***
The rest of the ride to Brooklyn seemed to take forever as Lisa and Brenda, the zealous new passengers, chatted endlessly about the party they'd just attended. When the driver pulled up to her and Stacey's building Megan almost jumped out of the car before it stopped moving just to get away from the noise.
"Well, at least we saved a few dollars," Stacey said as she watched the car drive away.
"I'm not sure it was worth it," Megan said rolling her eyes.
As the two women shared a laugh, Megan momentarily forgot about the awkwardness between them. When she inadvertently looked into Stacey's eyes, Megan found it hard to reconcile the caring she saw in them with the behavior she'd witnessed last week. Something deep in Megan's heart began tugging at the wall she'd built up to protect herself from the feelings she still had for Stacey.
"Thanks again for getting me the gig tonight," Megan said and then quickly turned toward her apartment. She needed to get away from Stacey before her resolve melted.
"Megan, can we talk? Please?" Stacey asked before Megan could get her key into the door.
It was almost as if the words wrapped around Megan's arm, preventing her from making an escape. With her back still to Stacey, Megan dug her teeth into her bottom lip. She hated to admit it, but part of her really wanted to hear what Stacey had to say. She still wanted to hear something that would make the whole mess make sense -- even though she couldn't imagine what words could do that.
"I promise I won't keep you long," Stacey implored.
Megan lifted her key, unlocked the door and stepped aside so Stacey could enter. She watched as Stacey crossed the room and took a seat on the couch. That's when Megan knew she'd made a mistake by letting Stacey in. She'd missed this too much. She'd missed having Stacey in her space -- in her life -- and the pain of that realization was almost too much for Megan to bare.
"Please, come sit down," Stacey said patting the couch cushion beside her.
Megan was still frozen in the doorway. She somehow managed to take a step forward but instead of moving to the couch, she walked over to her piano bench and took a seat.
Christmas All Around Us ; The Perfect Time for Love ; Playing for Keeps Page 33