The Treble With Men

by Smartypants Romance

  We all nodded in agreement.

  “He just wasn’t our person,” Suzie said shrugging.

  “Right. Our person. Cause that’s a thing.” Roxy rolled her eyes. “Also, Devlin is the conductor of a symphony and a composer of music—he isn’t exactly riding with the Iron Wraiths and hocking drugs and women.”

  “But he’s angry and …” I started.

  “Challenging?” Gretchen asked sipping her drink.

  “Yes. I dunno how it would even work between us.” I shook my head, clearing thoughts of Devlin. “Roddy says he wants the best for me. He puts everything out there.”

  “How nice,” Gretchen said.

  “Don’t do that,” I said. “Don’t rain on my parade. Not all men are evil.”

  She held my gaze. “If you’re really happy and this is really what you want I, of course, support you.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “It just feels like you are trying to sell yourself as much as you’re selling us,” she added.

  I frowned. I wasn’t explaining myself well if that was how I came across. “Roddy and I have so much history. He calls me Yo-Yo. It’s sweet.”

  “He calls you Yo-Yo? That doesn’t sound fun,” Blithe said.

  “After the famous cellist, Yo-Yo Ma,” I clarified. “He always has. It’s our thing.”

  “He couldn’t think of any famous female cellists?” Gretchen asked.

  I glared at her. “Can you name a famous female cellist?”

  “I’m not in that industry,” she shot back.

  “Also, am I allowed to ask something?” Blithe said. “Isn’t that vaguely racist? I know you have some Korean heritage and Yo-Yo Ma is Chinese-American but … you don’t think that’s why he calls you that, do you?”

  “No. That would be …” I paused to think. “No. He wouldn’t. It’s only because he’s literally the only cello player most people know.”

  But truthfully, now that she’d said it, the seed had been planted. I shook my head to find my previous convictions. “I just needed to talk through things with y’all. I’m still processing a lot of stuff. It’s all good.” I grinned widely to prove my point.

  I looked at each of them and they smiled back. Except Gretchen—she stabbed at a cherry in her glass.

  “I don’t want to sound crass,” Blithe said, “but can we back up a little? I feel like we grazed over the details of the shower incident too quickly. I need specifics. A rough sketch would be fine too.”

  “You saw his dick?” Gretchen asked before sucking very suggestively on a straw.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “And all the things?” Roxy asked.

  “Like balls? I mean, not in great detail. I was distracted, but I saw everything.” I took a deliberate amount of time to eat a fried pickle to avoid eye contact.

  “What did it look like?” Roxy said.

  “His penis?” Blithe blurted. Like she sneezed.

  “Yes, his penis.” Roxy twisted her mouth to the side. “I didn’t want to say it, but now you’ve made it weird.”

  Heat flamed my cheek. “Yes. It is weird. But I said it too. Repeatedly. An unhealthy amount actually.”

  I waited for the other shoe to drop. I wouldn’t spill Devlin’s secret. It wasn’t mine to share, and I had no way to know how’d they react. What if they wanted me to get an autograph? I could only imagine the irritated expression on his face if I were to ask him such a thing.

  Blithe frowned at a cheese stick. “I didn’t think anybody really liked to look at those things.”

  “I’m neutral,” Gretchen said. “Some are nice.”

  “Are we still talking about the penis?” I asked.

  “I want to know about his body too.” Roxy’s eyes lit up.

  “For the record, I feel weird objectifying him,” I said.

  They all groaned and rolled their eyes.

  “Yeah, totally, me too. We are all woke AF, blah blah. So what was his butt like?” Roxy asked.

  “That being said,” I continued as though I hadn’t been interrupted. “He’s a swimmer and …” I made a swoony sigh. “To be honest, it’s more than that. It’s the fact that he can completely command a room of a hundred musicians. It’s that when he plays the piano, he moves his fingers like a magician. It’s that he can come up with an entire symphonic movement in his brain from nothing. It’s almost like sorcery. I mean, that’s incredible.” I shook my head with a laugh. “And he can be really funny, too. It always surprises me when he makes me laugh because he tries to be so stern. Gosh, and you should hear him talk about his family. He has these two nieces—”

  Four sets of eyes blinked at me.

  “But it’s obviously just physical attraction,” Suzie said, a perfectly arched eyebrow judging me.

  “I don’t really know him. He hides himself. There’s a lot that’s off limits. I’m not gonna go telling Devlin I have this huge embarrassing crush only for him to look at me like I’m something he stepped in.”

  Devlin’s intentions toward me were so unclear. Sometimes it seemed like he maybe he was … I dunno, looking at me like a man looked at a woman. Other times we felt like no more than two business partners working toward the same goal.

  “Can we talk about anything else?” I asked. “Suzie, how’s the studio?”

  “Crazy busy. It’s amazing,” Suzie said. We talked about Ford’s Fosters and their fantastic visit. Suzie was in the middle of a story about Ford and Jack fighting over the proper way to load the dishwasher when her face completely changed and she cut herself off. “OH MY GOD!”

  I looked to the door. I thought maybe Nico Manganiello had walked in. Stranger things had happened in Green Valley. A girl could dream.

  When I brought my focus back to her, Suzie was looking at me like she’d just figured out crypto-currency. “You saw it.”

  “Yes. Penis. We get it. Can we move on? I’m feeling weird about it.” Blithe threw a limp cheese-stick back in the plastic basket.

  “Nooo. No, no, no …” Suzie shook her head. “That’s not what I mean.”

  Adrenaline spiked my heart rate. Thankfully our waitress came to check on us. She was a cute brunette named Patty, about our age, maybe a little younger.

  “Can I get y’all another round?” she asked.

  Everybody nodded or said yes. “Anything else for you?” she asked me.

  “Just water,” I said. She was about to leave, but I didn’t want to have to get back to Suzie’s discovery. I desperately wracked my brains for small talk. “Patty, how’s your momma?” I asked.

  Patty placed a hand on her hip and cocked an eyebrow. “She’s good.”

  Ugh, I was being so awkward. “And your cousin, Willa? How’s she?”

  “She’s good too.” Patty glanced quickly around the packed bar. “Haven’t seen you out in a while. How are you?”

  “Been busy. Oh, can you tell me about softball? You play softball right?” I asked with sudden inspiration. Suzie looked like she was about to burst with her discovery. I wouldn’t be able to lie if they out right asked me who Devlin was. My face was an open book. I could only stall.

  Patty smiled but it was strained. Her gaze flicked to several people trying to get her attention. She said, “I’d love to sometime, but I got about ten tables needing something. Open mic night is crazy. We’ll catch up later. I’ll get all y’all’s round.”

  When she was gone, Suzie said, “Enough’s enough. Spill it. What did you see when that mask came off?”

  The others gasped and leaned closer, catching on. They threw out guesses of disfigurement and scarring. They were so wrong.

  “You can’t freak out,” I warned.

  They’re eyes widened but they nodded with mouths clamped shut tightly. But then, the quick happy notes of a familiar melody cut through the air and the bar went quiet. It was as though someone made an announcement.

  “I love this song,” Roxy whispered.

  We all nodded. Tiny Dancer by Elton John was
one of those songs that brought everybody together no matter their age or background.

  Chills traveled down my body as a familiar voice broke through the air. My eyes shot to the piano player on stage. Devlin was here. Excitement shuddered through me.

  Devlin’s rich guttural voice broke through the air. He sat at the piano with his back to the bar. His mask was pulled off his face so he could sing into the microphone, he couldn’t be fully seen with his hat on. But I would know that profile anywhere.

  I glanced to the other girls to see if they figured it all out. Their shocked expressions told me they did. That voice revealed all. He was a ragged mix of Eddie Vedder and Hozier. His rich voice burned like Tennessee honey whiskey showing his roots, but his range and technique came from years of practice combined with his own virtuoso talent. The man was captivating. It wasn’t just me who noticed. All the women and dang, most of the men, were just as entranced as I was. Pure, raw talent like that was hypnotic.

  He had the skill of a classically trained musician with the cool casualness of a busker. The muscles of his neck, shoulders, and back were prominent under his thin shirt. They strained as he sang with every note. He poured everything into it.

  My stomach flip-flopped. I hadn’t been prepared to see him. Been prepared to have this reaction.

  A guitarist went up on stage and asked to join in. Devlin nodded to him with a smile in his voice. The guitar strummed along so perfectly it could have been staged. A tall woman with a shaved head joined on the steel guitar.

  As the chorus built, people went to the dance floor. I couldn’t move. The things happening in my body were more than the music and more than the attraction. The things happening in my body were infinite. I had serious feelings for this man. Hearing him sing transported me back in time. Heat pooled deep inside me when he groaned out a particularly intense line.

  A drummer got on stage and softly kept time. His grin spoke to the magic of the moment. It was magic. There was no other way to describe it. The lyrics were about holding a woman close, laying with her, softly, slowly—how she was always with him. My heart raced. I wouldn’t read into it.

  As the famous chorus broke out, the whole bar sang along. Even busy Patty stopped to listen to the impromptu band on stage. Without talking, the five of us moved to the floor, rocking slowly at first, smiling and swaying.

  Everything felt so perfectly coordinated that anything planned could never possibly top it.

  This moment. Right here, with my closest friends, singing with unencumbered passion, I felt fully alive. It was more than I could ever ask for. I wanted to scream along at the top of my lungs. I wanted to cry. I was happy. I was loved. I wasn’t alone. I wished I could hold on to this feeling even when the doubt settled in.

  Gretchen, Roxy, Suzie, and Blithe laughed and sang. But when Gretchen caught my eye, she shook her head with a laugh. “Oh, girl, you’re in big trouble,” she yelled over the music.

  I shook my head looking to the ceiling. “I know.”

  Blithe grabbed my hand and twirled me.

  I wished I had my cello so I could run up on stage too. Then I allowed myself just for a moment, to imagine what it might be like playing with him without any expectations or a deadline. Just to play together. To hear him sing so beautifully, to play any instrument he wanted, while I joined on the cello. We would make beautiful music together.

  The whole bar sang along loudly. Devlin’s hands danced happily up and down the keyboard, but he still kept his face from the crowd. The girls and I belted out the lyrics at the top of our lungs and yes, I had tears in my eyes. How could I not? This was the power of music.

  There was no going back from here. I could no longer delude myself that my feelings for Devlin were anything less than epic.

  Chapter 26

  You already know who I am.

  DEVLIN

  It was Wes’s stupid idea to go out. I was perfectly fine staying at home, working on my current composition and brooding. Just another Thursday night for me.

  We were at Genie’s, not because the SWS was having a meeting there, but because Kim had technically invited me. I’d finally caught her after rehearsal with the SOOK today, after her previous clear avoidance of me. I still hadn’t heard what she’d thought of the Ford’s Fosters rehearsal. She brushed me off quickly, saying she had plans before rushing off. Maybe she’d felt obliged, but she had technically invited me. When Wes had wanted to go out for drinks, I suggested the only decent bar in town. It wasn’t anything more than that.

  The bar was packed. Wes snagged us a small standing table near the dance floor, hidden from the rest of the room. I could push my cover down to drink without drawing attention in the darkness. My gaze very casually scanned the room. A brunette waitress came to take our order.

  I said, “Two of whatever draft is on special.”

  She winked and said, “You got it. Anything to eat?”

  “Just the drinks,” Wes said with his usual charm.

  She politely smiled back and went on her way.

  “What’s Kelly up to?” I asked dryly.

  “She’s putting the kids down,” Wes said. “I can only stay for one drink. I was promised some ‘Netflix and chill’ later.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  We chatted for a while and I positioned myself so that I could see Kim as she spoke with her friends. Whatever she talked about had her going. Her cheeks were bright red and her delicate hands mimicked catching a large bass. What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall of that conversation.

  “Remember that time you peed your bed in third grade?” Wes said loudly.

  I blinked my attention back to him. “What?”

  “You are listening. Just checking.”

  “I didn’t pee my bed. That was you, dumbass.”

  He shrugged. “I see your Kim is here. That’s a strange coincidence.”

  I frowned. “Not mine. Don’t talk like that, or I will have her come over and lecture you on people being treated as property.”

  He shuddered. “I learned my lesson the first time. Still. I can’t help but think maybe you aren’t being honest about your feelings for her.”

  The label of my beer sat in a pile of strips. “She isn’t what I expected.”

  “In a good way?”

  “I’m not sure. She seems to be two different people. Christine at work and then Kim at my house. Christine is the ideal musician; prompt and dedicated. But Kim is funny. So funny. And she’s just so open. And talented. I knew she was. But I had forgotten how much power there was in her playing.”

  Wes raised his eyebrows and took a long pull from his beer. “Have you told her any of that?”

  “God, no.”

  “Why?”

  I just shook my head. My feelings for Kim were complicated. I settled on. “I’m her conductor.”

  He nodded. “I get it. You want to make it through the season without being fired. Still … You could show her that there is more to you than the masked-man schtick.”

  I glared up at him.

  “You obviously like her but don’t want to screw up. I get it. So let it be her choice. I’m not trying to make you cross any lines, but don’t forget the ultimate secret weapon at your disposal.”

  “Secret weapon?”

  “For wooing!” he said and slapped the table. “Come on man, you know you have a super-power.”

  “With great power comes great responsibility,” I grumbled into my glass before I gulped down the rest of my beer. My hands started to shake. A very bad idea was settling in.

  “Talents are wasted on nerds. One song,” he said. “It’ll be fun.”

  My heart started hammering. Going on stage … people watching …

  “Lay off me,” I snapped.

  “Don’t do that,” Wes said, completely unfazed. “Don’t get pissy with me because you don’t like what I’m saying.”

  I crossed my arms tight and my foot tapped wildly.

  He shook his head at me. “I forg
et how shy you are.”

  “I’m not shy.” Shy wasn’t the right word. It was more than that. “Not everybody can charm a salesman out of his wallet.”

  “I can’t turn it off,” he said. “Do what you want, but don’t be an idiot.”

  “Rich, coming from you.”

  He hadn’t been trying to piss me off. Well, he never tried. That also came naturally for him. But in his defense, I sometimes got ticked off if I felt myself being pushed into something I didn’t want.

  “Ha. Look, I gotta go.” He stood up, pulled out a twenty and threw it on the table. He came around to hug me goodbye. “I’m glad you’re back in town.”

  “You said that last time.”

  “That’s cause I mean it.”

  “It’s not all bad being back here,” I admitted.

  “Don’t screw up and leave us all again.” He gripped my shoulder and looked seriously into my eyes. “It nearly broke Ma when you stayed away so long. Stay here. With your nieces and family. Do what it takes to make it permanent.”

  “Why do you think I’m working so hard?”

  He shook me lightly. “Then keep at it. And don’t be a chickenshit,” he said nodding at the open mic flyer on the wall.

  “Goodbye, brother,” I said.

  “Goodbye, brother,” he mimicked me.

  After he left, I flagged down the server for a shot of tequila and asked about the line-up for tonight.

  “Now or never,” she said as she set down the shot. “There’s an opening, but you gotta go up now.”

  “Thanks.” I pulled down my mask to take the shot quickly before pulling it back up. Her eyes squinted like she was trying to place me. I wiped my mouth and walked away as she opened her mouth to speak.

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath and stepped on the stage.

  I got behind the piano and felt the room take notice behind me. I hadn’t played for an audience in a very long time. A familiar thrill of nerves energized me. My back was to the audience because it was an accompanist piano, off to the side of the stage. I tugged my mask down. My hands shook as I played a few chords to warm up. I launched into the opening stanza, hoping the jitters would wear off as my voice warmed up. At least Elton John was an almost-guaranteed crowd pleaser. My fingers found the notes easily.