Unfinished Sympathy (Absolution Book 1)

by Amélie S. Duncan

  All I could do was ignore it. I kept myself busy, though I was on pins and needles as to whether Paul would agree to their terms. It wasn’t until four when I next heard from Logan. This time he came to my office.

  “Paul Crane signed the contract with Emono,” he announced, and handed me my new contract package. “You probably already heard.”

  My lips parted. “I didn’t know. That’s good.”

  “We’re having a little celebration on the floor and you’re welcome to join us,” he said formally.

  “Thank you,” I replied. “I’ll just finish up this piece and I’ll be right out.”

  “Okay. Congratulations.” He walked out and closed the door.

  I leaned on my hands. This was all really happening. I was excited and nervous at the same time. My phone buzzed, and it was a message from none other than Paul himself.

  5:09 P.M. Congrats. See you and Daniel Monday at 9:00 a.m. for orientation.

  My heart pounded. It was all happening so quickly. Then again, I had the job, and starting right away would be good, but I only had the weekend to prepare.

  I looked down at my clothing. I couldn’t wear cargo pants and an oversized shirt there. I’d need to find something else to wear. I’d returned the dress and I could maybe use the money to buy a couple of new things or get my old clothing from my mom’s place. I still had a train pass that wasn’t out of date. But would I be allowed in the house?

  I took a deep breath and called Faith for permission.

  “I’m busy,” she said when she answered.

  “I have good news. I have a new job,” I told her.

  She snorted. “I figured you’d lost your job at Emono. So, you’ve been lying for how long?”

  “No. I’ve been promoted. It’s still contracted, but working with Paul Crane,” I said, dropping his name to impress her. She was a pop fan after all.

  “You got another contract job at the same company,” she said in a bored tone. “Is that all you called about?”

  “No, it’s not. I’d like to come up to get some of my clothes. Only for clothes,” I said quickly before she tried to speak over me. “I can reach the basement from the side door.” Neither of you will even know I’m there. There was a pang in my heart.

  “Uhm…I’ve been meaning to tell you. Your clothes were getting moldy from the basement. Mom’s allergic to mold, so I had to throw them out,” she said. “They were old clothes anyway. You didn’t have anything worth saving.”

  “I had dresses from my recitals. From all my competitions. They were expensive, I can’t replace them! I’d have come and collected them and sent them to the dry cleaners. Why on earth did you throw away my stuff!?” My voice rose louder than I intended, and I gasped, momentarily forgetting that all audio rooms were soundproof.

  “Who are you yelling at?” she growled, but I’d had it.

  “I’m yelling at you,” I snapped back hotly. “My things didn’t belong to you. You had no right to destroy them.”

  “You act like I did it on purpose. You only care about your stuff, not us.”

  I scoffed. “That’s not true and you know it. All I do is try to help you and mom.”

  “If you’re done freaking out over some old clothes, we still need help,” she said. “We need the money you were to send tomorrow, plus the co-pay for Mom’s day-care transport. I agreed to send her twice a week to get a break.”

  She was hurting me and placating me at the same time, and it worked. We both knew I’d give whatever I had to Mom, no matter what.

  “How much?” I asked roughly, and she told me. There went the extra hourly salary.

  “Sorry I didn’t tell you about your clothes,” she said. “But really I need to go. Mom’s visiting Ms. Walker across the street. She has new kittens.”

  “Okay. Please tell her…. please tell her that I miss her,” I said thickly.

  I hung up before she could answer, already doubting she would tell Mom. At that moment, I couldn’t handle hearing her taunt me that she wouldn’t.

  I slumped behind my desk and covered my face with my hands. I could have wept, if I’d still allowed myself to cry. I wanted to scream and break everything in my path, but that wouldn’t help anything. The only thing I could do was wait until the chaos inside me passed. I only needed time.

  I used logic to try and soothe the ache. The clothes were only material, but material things held memories. The purple velvet dress, my international competition win. The blue crepe, my parent’s twentieth anniversary, the happiest I’d ever seen them. The black satin dress, my winning audition for Juilliard. My father standing up and cheering me. My mom beaming with pride. Every sacrifice in my life had been worth it that day. I had already lost them all, and now the little I’d managed to save was taken from me too.

  I stayed in the room longer than I had planned, to calm down. When I finally decided to leave, Paul and Recon’s Infinity CD was playing in the office. The staff was drinking champagne out of paper cups in celebration. Some people who had never talked to me before greeted me, but it was all too much right now.

  Turning away from them, I headed toward the elevators. I was almost there when Ryan chose to step in my path.

  “You’re getting an early start on your celebration?” he asked.

  I pursed my lips. “The day is over, and I’m going home.”

  “Well, be a sport and have a glass with us,” he said. He motioned for Logan and the rest of the team to come around, and one of the workers I hadn’t recognized handed me a filled cup.

  “Let’s make a toast to Aubrey. For her… tenacity in getting us Paul Crane on the soundtrack,” he announced.

  I frowned. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “From her lips,” he said, and snickered alone. “I hadn’t realized a little violin from college would land you above someone with more experience, like Daniel, but we are a client-first company.”

  “He’s been drinking,” Logan said to me. “Enough, Ryan.”

  “Daniel’s sorry that he missed you,” Ryan said, ignoring him. “He unfortunately has been demoted back to contractor. It seems we couldn’t have a full-time new hire and a contract specialist position this quarter. Sorry, he left early. He was upset, as I’m sure you’ll understand, but he congratulates you too.”

  I fumed. I didn’t want to stay and point out all the wrong things Ryan had said to me. “I’ve heard, and I’m sorry for him. If you’ll excuse me…”

  “Of course, you don’t have to ask me anymore. Isn’t that right, Logan?” Ryan said, smirking over at him. “She reports to Paul Crane.”

  Logan gave him a reproving shake of his head. “She also reports to us; her work on the soundtrack will be approved by Mr. Crane, like any of ours.”

  I started to walk away, but I stopped and turned around.

  “You know what? Yes, I’m happy about my new position. It’s sad Daniel’s not happy he has been demoted to the same contract specialist job as me. I believe I was given the job because I deserve it. After checking over all the work you’ve given me, I’ve noticed all of mine has been approved on all completed levels, because it meets your high standards the first time. I even tested some of the game with my completed work; and there are no issues with the audio. The scene on Outbreak that was supposed to be redone hasn’t been, because what I handed in was exceptional. That was why it made it into your marketing presentations. You may not like me personally, but please stop insulting me professionally.”

  I downed my drink and stormed off to applause from Quinn as he came up behind me. “Woo, feisty!”

  Rubbing my temples, I dumped the cup in a waste bin. “I’m at my wits end. I hate that I need to stay here and deal with them. I hate that I need this job. I’m just…tired.”

  Quinn patted me on the shoulder. “Rest up. It’s good you said what you did, but Ryan will not like how you stuck up for yourself and will be coming for you hard. Regroup, and you me and Kyle will have drinks together soon. Congratulat
ions.”

  I thanked Quinn and left for the train. I was glad to go by myself because I wanted to be away from Emono. They’d gone out of their way to make sure the opportunity to work with Paul was not a win. They’d upped the stakes, dangling a permanent job like a juicy carrot for me to run after in a race against clueless Daniel, as if I’d forgotten what they’d done earlier. They’d given him the job and a welcome luncheon. Probably more money too, but that I’d never find out. I wouldn’t even have the chance to delight in my pay raise, because all the responsibilities for my family had been placed on me, and that boost for my hourly rate was now going straight to them too.

  I walked over to the Riverwalk along the Hudson River and sank down on a bench, delaying going home, where I wouldn’t even find anyone, Destiny was working tonight. My thoughts returned to Paul and how the little time I’d spent with him, laughing and playing music, had brought fulfillment back into my life. That little time in the loft, happy and free, had reminded me of how much I missed the violinist I’d once been. I was grateful that he’d given me an opportunity, but I didn’t like what came along with it—the thing I wasn’t sure I could avoid. Hope. What would happen to me, should I lose it again?

  I thought about it on my ride home. When I got there, I reached the door at the same time as a delivery.

  The driver pressed my call button. “Is that for Destiny Simmons or Aubrey Irving?” I asked, showing him an ID when he asked for it.

  “It’s for you.” He walked with it all the way to my apartment. There, I signed for it and curiously opened it. The Testore violin. The one-hundred-thousand-dollar Testore violin.

  Two thoughts came to mind. First: Paul Crane had done this without consulting me. Second: If I sold it, my financial problems would go away. The temptation was too strong. I couldn’t keep it.

  I rushed out the door and met the delivery guy just as he stepped into the elevator. “I can’t take this.”

  “Sorry, you signed for it. You’ll need to take it up with the sender.” He looked down at the unit in his hand. “One Mr. Paul Crane.” He pressed the button for the door to close.

  I furrowed my brows. “I most definitely will.”

  I called Paul.

  “You need to take the violin back. Now,” I said when he answered.

  I’d never been good at accepting things. My sister had always inventoried everything my parents gave me or did for me like it was wrong—and I was greedy for taking from them. I didn’t like or want to be that kind of person and went out of my way to make sure I didn’t become her.

  “It’s much too expensive of a gift for someone you barely know,” I went on in a rush. “I played for you because you asked me, and I enjoyed it. You gave me a job, and that’s plenty. I like to work for what I have.”

  “The violin has bonded with you,” he said. “I don’t think anyone else can play the Testore as well as you can, and that violin deserves the best. Do with it as you wish, but it’s yours.”

  Warmth spread across my chest at his praise, but I wouldn’t keep the gift. “How about a compromise? You keep it for me—I don’t want to travel around the city with an expensive violin.”

  “I can help you get around,” he said, as if the idea had just come to him. “After your bad encounter the other night, you must be scared. How do you feel?”

  I was touched by his concern, but I needed to stay true to myself

  “I’m fine. I don’t need the ride.” I touched the case fondly as I listened to him. “But if you agree to keep the Testore, I’ll take you up on the rides when I work overtime.”

  “Your stubbornness is exasperating. The days you need to travel with the Testore, you’ll take a ride home.” He hung up on me.

  I stared at the phone in shock and laughed. And I’m the stubborn one? It annoyed me that he wouldn’t do what I asked of him, but his kindness and generosity were sincere.

  The Testore was here for now, and I couldn’t resist playing it and thinking about Paul the rest of the night.

  Aubrey

  My red pumps were my interview shoes, and while they looked sensational in the mirror at home and sitting in an office, they remained impractical for any distance walking. This became painfully obvious as I rushed along three blocks with the Midtown morning crowd to start at Crane Production Studios.

  It was a steel, tinted-glass skyscraper standing on a ninety-degree angle at the end of the block. I wasn’t late, but in New York City I was running on the “hurry and wait” time. My feet thanked me when I could stop inside and make my way to the corporate offices on the top three floors.

  The style of the interior reminded me of a sci-fi movie, with its steel beams, flat screens and a floating desk in the lobby. The receptionist even had a futuristic headset. She was on a phone call and held up her hand when I approached her desk. While I waited, the elevator dinged, and Daniel came out to join me.

  “Yo, Aubrey!” he said.

  “Hey,” I replied in utter shock. To receive the first “yo” of my life from Daniel was peculiar, to say the least.

  At Emono, he always waited for someone in the office to speak to him first. He blended well in the background, like good neutral paint on a wall. The kind of paint you thought “nice” and left alone while you changed everything else. Today, though, he dared to stand out, and not just through his cool-guy greeting. He’d done a Paul Crane wannabe make-over, complete with designer denim jeans, T-shirt, and one-button jacket. He had sneakers on his feet. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  I tightened my jaw. The game was afoot. I’d underestimated the lengths Daniel would go to. A few seconds with him next to me made it clear he hadn’t cloned Paul Crane’s cologne. Unfortunately, Daniel gave off a scent that reminded me of the gerbil cage my third-grade class had to clean. My painful heels earned a compliment from the receptionist when she rose to walk us over to the internal floating-glass staircase.

  “Mr. Crane is ready to see you both. You could take the elevator, but it’s only a few flights.” The neon Fitbit on her arm and her disparaging tone made it obvious that the stairs were the only choice.

  I whimpered as she led the way. Daniel, the gentleman today, let me go up what became three flights of stairs ahead of him. The staff moving around the corridor when we reached the executive floor were mostly wearing designer black in varying fabrics, with a splash of color thrown in. The walls displayed colorful framed photos and many awards.

  There was a receptionist alcove before the double glass doors that led to Paul’s office, held open by his assistant on our approach. “You can go in.”

  Paul stood behind his desk and just the sight of him sent a rush of heat through me. His outfit was the winner by far of who wore it better. The scruff was growing back on his square jaw. His dynamic blue-green gaze seized me the second our eyes met.

  “Have a seat, Aubrey,” Paul said as his eyes shifted over me from head to toe, lingering on my heels before they dulled and focused on Daniel. “You too,” he said, his tone less eager. Before we could start, Daniel thanked him and complimented the office.

  “Thank you,” Paul replied, though his lips turned down as he took in his copycat style.

  “The two of you will start with a tour and orientation,” Paul said, jumping right into business. “Mike and Kate in my audio and sound department are available to get you up to speed on our work here. You will work on the audio composite for the game with them. We’ll be adding a short documentary film on production for promotion. We’d like you to work on that as well, to benefit Emono and Crane’s partnership.”

  I excitedly bounced a little in my seat. “That sounds great.”

  Paul’s lips curved upward. “We’ll provide your schedule, with two days a week to start. More when we book studio artists in production and studio. You must attend all scheduled sessions. I’ll be in the office most of the week. Do you have questions?”

  His assistant came in and handed us a schedule. There was nothing listed about us work
ing directly with him, or my playing music with him again. I shook my head, though I couldn’t mask my disappointment.

  He rose, and we were about to leave when Daniel stopped by a plaque on his wall.

  “You kickbox?” he asked, clearly surprised.

  “That was from an amateur fight years ago,” Paul replied. “I only do it for fitness now.”

  “Me too. Mixed martial arts for years,” Daniel said. “Kickboxing is my specialty.”

  Paul rubbed his jaw. “We have a staff gym, but if you’d like to join me and friends for our morning workouts—”

  “I’d love that,” Daniel said. The enthusiasm in his voice was hard to miss.

  And just like that, Daniel had made a connection with Paul. He was obviously trying to edge his way in and would get the promotion for sure if it worked. Had he done the same at Emono? I was too busy trying to do my work and keep my job instead of making connections with my bosses.

  Since Paul wanted to keep a professional distance now, and there was no mention of us playing together, I’d have to find a new way to work with him. Work, that was my only goal. I would have to try to convince myself of it., and I would start right away

  I didn’t see the end of the carpet and stumbled. My hands were out, but Paul immediately caught me, his hands circling my waist. A brief feeling of his warmth and masculine scent surrounded me, and with his touch came that electrical spark that made me desperately want his hands to stay on me. However, I guess that was only me.

  Paul quickly straightened me on my heels and moved away. While what he did was correct, I couldn’t stop the pain that hit my chest at how reserved he was with me now.

  I let my hair fall into my face. “Sorry. Thank you for the rescue, Mr. Crane.”

  “It’s becoming a habit these days,” he mused, and cleared his throat. His gaze briefly lingered on my shoes again before he moved with Daniel to his reception. Perhaps he wasn’t aloof.