ENCORE PERFORMANCE (THE MATCHMAKER TRILOGY)

by Marie, Bernadette

  “Your sight?”

  “It’s going. It’s going quickly, but my ears are fine. And I hear music, I don’t see it.”

  Sophia kissed him on the cheek. “You are still amazing. Do you know that?”

  “Of course I do.” He laughed.

  “Well I’d better get to my seat,” she said, turning back toward Carissa.

  Carissa took her mother’s hands in hers. “Dad?”

  “He’s here and so is Hope. Pablo pulled some strings,” she admitted.

  “I’m so happy he did. This is the best surprise ever.” She kissed her mother’s cheeks. “I’m going to do my best. This is so much more than first chair. This really should be you.”

  “No, it was meant to be for you.” She touched Carissa’s face. “We’ll meet you back at the hotel when you’re done. I’m sure the evening will only get better.” She kissed her daughter and left the room.

  Pierre excused himself and Carissa sat alone.

  She held her cello between her legs, leaning into the instrument, holding it against her like a child needing to be comforted. She ran her fingers over the strings running the first song through her mind. When the door opened again, Pablo walked through in his black tuxedo.

  She rose to him, surprised that he would have stepped into her room after having made it perfectly clear he would not see his ensemble.

  She could see why the world loved him. Aside from his beautiful voice he was, simply, one of the most gorgeous men to walk the planet. His dark, mysterious looks, his deep chocolate eyes, and the build of a god. He was pure pleasure on the eyes.

  “Bella, are you ready to make history.”

  “I’m sick,” she said with a hand on her stomach, and that caused him to laugh.

  “Your mother threw up on my shoes once. You will not.”

  “No, I will not.” She stood and held the neck of the instrument. “Thank you for brining my family.”

  “My pleasure.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Sophia had to be here even if she didn’t play.”

  “I really appreciate it.”

  “They will come for your cello in a moment. You will meet me down the hall with the rest in five minutes,” he instructed, and she nodded.

  Pablo kissed each of her cheeks. “You’ve been quite an asset to my ensemble. I would like you to think about giving up your school and staying in Rome.”

  “Pablo, I don’t know what to say. I—”

  “You say nothing. You think about it.” He turned and strode out of the room.

  A few moments later, a young man came for her cello, to set it on stage, and she met the ensemble down the hall as instructed. Pierre gathered with them while Pablo finished his preparations.

  “As soon as this evening is over we will be escorted by car to the hotel. You will change and have one hour before Pablo expects you for celebration drinks.”

  They all nodded as the instructions were given. There wasn’t a member of the ensemble that didn’t fully understand the impact of what was about to happen.

  Carissa stood at the edge of the stage with the others. The pianist wiggled his fingers, warming them up. The violinist’s head swayed back and forth, her eyes closed, and Carissa knew she heard music in her mind. The flutist fixed his shirt cuffs.

  She knew they all had their own ways of preparing for their performance. She, however, couldn’t move past the sounds around her.

  The murmur of the crowd, speaking in Italian, resonated through the theater. Not one voice more dominant than the other. The many conversations blended together in their own symphony.

  A man in red robes passed by them and out to the stage. She heard his shoes click on the stage and the audience quieted down.

  The sickness in her stomach rose into her throat and she closed her eyes and breathed deeply as the man onstage welcomed the audience and introduced the pope.

  Carissa’s eyes shot open and the quick glances between the members of the ensemble made her realize that each of them was as panicked as she was. The pope had summonsed them to play for him and he was there to listen.

  The lights went down and the ensemble took their positions on the stage. The lighting cued and Carissa raised her bow. Pablo’s voice rang through the hall and history began.

  Only one thing was missing from the most momentous night of her life, and that was Thomas.

  The raw nerves that had made her sick drove her through the performance, but the silent breaking of her heart was sure to drive her mad.

  The concert was over. Carissa sat in the limousine with the others and after a few seconds’ hubbub they all fell silent. Every eye was wide. Every mouth wore a smile. The air was full of electricity. But though they all felt the music, there were no words that could be shared among those who didn’t speak the same language.

  They parted ways in the hotel, going to their rooms to prepare for the upcoming celebration. One hour wasn’t quite enough time to get the excitement out of Carissa’s body. Before she changed her dress she’d need to scream into a pillow. Energy was pulsing through her. She’d played the Vatican. She’d met the pope. She’d lived out her mother’s dream.

  Juggling the roses that Pablo had given her, she slid the key to her door into the reader then pushed it open. She stopped in the doorway and the giddy smile that had been on her lips vanished. Her eyes opened wide when she noticed the lights were on and dimmed. Champagne chilled in a bucket on the table. Two flutes sat near the bucket, a vase of roses sat on the end table by the sofa. As the door closed behind her, she noticed the coat.

  Thomas’s coat. Her breath whooshed out of her lungs. She felt the blood drain from her face and her head spun.

  “You were amazing tonight.” His voice carried through the suite.

  Carissa turned to see him observing her from the doorway to the bedroom.

  “You were there?”

  “It was the biggest venue any of us could have dreamed about. You fulfilled that dream, Carissa. You were amazing.” He smiled as he walked cautiously toward her.

  Emotions ran through her so quickly she wasn’t sure which she was supposed to express.

  He was here. He was in Rome. He was in her room with champagne and roses. He’d been at the Vatican. He’d come to hear her play.

  He’d left her.

  It seemed that anger won over joy. Her jaw tightened and her lips pursed.

  “Why are you here?” She snapped out the question and watched as his eyes widened.

  “I needed to talk to you.”

  “Now? You need me now?” She turned and set the roses Pablo had given her on the large mahogany table behind her. “You should go.”

  “You should hear me out.”

  She didn’t speak. She was too stunned to speak.

  He moved to the sofa and gestured with his hand for her to join him.

  “Why don’t you sit down?”

  “Why don’t you go to hell, Thomas?”

  “Well, I see this is going to be an interesting evening.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Fine,” he said as he walked to the champagne and opened it. He poured her flute full and handed it to her, and then filled the other for himself.

  “If this was supposed to be a celebration . . .”

  “Well, let’s just say we might as well get drunk first.” He lifted the flute to his lips, but she shot her hand up between them and pulled his from his lips. It tore at her to watch him even dare to drink.

  “Don’t. Don’t drink it.”

  “Why not?”

  “You don’t drink.” She kept her voice soft. “There is no need for you to ruin your sobriety over my success.” She lowered her voice further. “Or my stubbornness.”

  He smiled. “Well, then. Why don’t you sit and sip champagne and I’ll do the talking I wanted to do.”

  Carissa nodded, feeling a heavy burden in her chest. She’d never have been able to live with herself had she thought Thomas had began drinking again because of her. She took his flute i
n her other hand and sat down on the cold leather sofa.

  With both hands filled with glasses, she stared up at him as he paced before her with his hands in the pockets of his slacks. She noticed that he again reminded her of Jimmy Stewart as he rubbed his chin and then ran his fingers through his hair, which once again was too long, and absolutely stunning on him, she thought.

  “I went home.”

  “Home?”

  “Yeah. When I left I went back to my mother’s house and stayed for a few days.” His eyes lifted to hers and she smiled.

  “That’s wonderful.” Her voice was even. The smile was genuine. She wasn’t angry at that very moment. She was happy for him.

  “It was great. I spent time with my sister. We played chess, had hot chocolate, and I told her stories of Sarah when she asked me to.”

  “Oh, Thomas . . .”

  “I slept in my bed,” he added. “She kept my bed and all my things. It was truly like going home. Only this time I felt safe. Really safe.” He shifted his eyes to her. “Like I do when I sleep in your arms.”

  Carissa set the flutes down on the table. Then she picked hers back up. She drank down the bubbling liquid inside and felt it rush to her head.

  He was watching her when she looked back up at him. His eyes searched her face.

  “I’m not my father, Carissa.” The words were a bold statement and Carissa could only stare at him, taking in what he said. “I’ve lived a great life. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but they don’t have to dictate what comes next.”

  “No, they don’t,” she agreed. She set down her flute and stood. “Thomas, you are a wonderful man. You are talented and caring. I never would have told you I love you if I didn’t think so.”

  He walked around the coffee table and gathered her hands in his.

  “They want us to come out for Thanksgiving. They’d like to meet you and get to know you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “They want to get to know the woman I love.” His eyes settled into hers. Her mouth dropped open and she gasped. “Yes, Carissa, I’m saying I love you.”

  “Thomas . . .”

  “Do you want me to say it again? I love you.”

  Her mouth opened even wider as her eyebrows drew together.

  “I’ll say it again. I love you, Carissa Kendal. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  “Oh, God!” Tears were threatening to surface. Her lip began to quiver, and she bit it and just stared at him.

  “I love you. I want you to be my wife and have at least four kids with me.”

  “Really?”

  “Are you trying to make this harder for me?” He laughed.

  The knock at the door halted her answer. She kept her eyes focused on him as she answered. Her father stood beyond the threshold.

  “Well, is my baby girl engaged?” David gathered her in his arms and kissed her cheeks.

  “Not yet,” Thomas answered. “She doesn’t seem to be able to give me an answer.”

  “You knew?” Carissa looked up at David and Sophia, who followed with Hope right alongside her.

  “Of course I knew.” David stiffened his shoulders and gave a nod in Thomas’s direction. “He’s a gentleman. He asked me first.”

  “You asked my father for his blessing?” She turned toward Thomas, her wide-eyed stare met his smiling eyes, as he nodded.

  “Yes. And he gave it to me.”

  “What is all of this?” Pablo’s voice bound from behind them. “Where is my star?” He pushed his way past Carissa’s family and walked to her. He gathered her in his arms and kissed her on the lips. “I came first to you. I wanted to tell you how wonderful you were.”

  Carissa’s hands rested on his arms and she smiled as Pierre walked in behind him.

  “Pablo, thank you. It was a wonderful and . . .” Her words stopped when Pablo lifted his head, his focus shifted over her shoulder.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” He let go of Carissa, pushing her to the side, and rushed across the room toward Thomas, his eyes full of fury and his step quick and swift.

  Thomas stepped back as Pablo knocked over a chair, barreling his way toward him.

  His hand came up in a fist. Carissa watched in horror as Pablo swung. She screamed Thomas’s name and as Thomas ducked the first punch and gave Pablo a shove. Pablo’s left hand hooked in front of him and connected with Thomas’s jaw.

  Thomas flew into the wall and down to the floor. Pablo jumped on top of him and drove his fist into Thomas’s face again and again until she and David could pull him back.

  “What is wrong with you?” she screamed at Pablo as she knelt down next to the man she loved.

  Pierre moved next to David, who held Pablo at bay. Pablo shook off David’s hold.

  “God dammit! What is that son of a bitch doing here? I told you never to come back!”

  Pierre touched his arm. “Stop. Pablo, stop.”

  “He almost kills you and you want me to stop?” His voice was filled with fury. “You bastard! I’m going to kill you.”

  “Get out!” Carissa stood and glared at Pablo.

  “You’re involved with him?” Pablo pushed a wild lock of hair from his eyes. “This is the man you love?”

  “Yes. This is the man I love and I’m going to marry.” She heard Thomas moan behind her and she returned to his side. She lifted his head into her arms. His cheek and lip were split and bleeding. Already his eye was swelling shut and blood trickled down his face. “God, Thomas. Are you all right?”

  He only nodded.

  Pierre shouted at Pablo, “You are such an idiot! Why must you do things like this? You ruined his career. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Enough for almost losing you?”

  “It wasn’t his fault,” he said as though he were repeating it for the millionth time.

  “He drove that car right into a barrier. Look at you. You can’t see. You walk with a limp. You were almost dead.”

  “I’m not dead. I’m here. I hear what you are saying. I feel your anger. But you have to believe me if you love me.” Pierre’s words cracked with tears.

  Thomas tried to sit up. “Pierre, don’t.”

  “No. If he wants to ruin lives over it, then he will ruin mine. Thomas was only helping me.”

  “Helping? Driving you while he was drunk?”

  “Yes.” Pierre took a deep breath. “I was with another man.”

  The room fell silent. Pablo stared at Pierre in disbelief. He scrubbed his hands over his face. Pierre moved closer to him, his hands reached out to feel for him.

  “It was a mistake. I met up with him. We had a few drinks.” He threw his hands in the air. “We had a lot of drinks. Thomas happened to be there. And he happened to have had too many already before he spotted me. He took me aside and promised he wouldn’t say anything, but he thought we should go.”

  “Pierre, you don’t have to—”

  Pierre held up a hand to Thomas to stop him.

  “The man I was meeting thought I was hooking up with Thomas. He threatened us. We got in my car and started out. Thomas was in better shape than I was. I didn’t realize he was drunk. Then the press was coming after us. The guy was setting me up to get to you, to expose you. We were outrunning them, the roads were slick, and he lost control of the car.” He began to weep.

  Thomas’s head fell back into Carissa’s arms. Tears fell from her eyes and Thomas lifted his hand to brush them from her cheeks.

  Pablo stood silent. The room was still and all eyes were on him as he turned toward Thomas.

  “You covered for him? You took the fall so I wouldn’t know he was cheating on me?”

  Thomas shifted his head to look at Pierre. Pierre nodded and Thomas swallowed hard.

  “I did what I thought was right by my friend.”

  “I killed your career.” Pablo’s voice shook as he spoke.

  Thomas’s jaw hardened. He blinked once.


  Pablo’s shoulders bowed. “You have nothing.”

  “I have Carissa. She’s all I need.” Carissa took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

  Pablo’s eyes tightened. He lifted his chin, turning toward Pierre. “You are not the man I thought you were.”

  “I’ve lived my life walking two steps behind you. One night I decided to walk on my own and look where it got me.”

  “One night? You expect me to believe that you’ve done this only once?”

  Pierre lifted his hand toward Pablo and reached until he touched him. “I expect you to believe that I made an error in judgment only once. I expect that you remember that Thomas was there, drunk perhaps, yet levelheaded enough to steer me out of the arms of a man only wishing to do us both harm. And,” he continued, “I expect you to, yes, believe that it was a onetime thing. I have never . . .” His words broke off as Sophia walked to him, placing her hands on his arms.

  Carissa watched as Pablo stood and surveyed the room. He looked at Thomas lying in her arms. She reached for a tissue on the end table and wiped a trickle of red from his cheek that Pablo had bloodied in his anger.

  Pablo sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face.

  “I pushed Pierre to the back in order to remain in the spotlight. I used you, Sophia, to keep my secrets,” he said, turning to her then back toward Thomas. “And I worked very hard to ruin your career and leave you with nothing.”

  He walked toward Thomas and Carissa. She winced as he knelt down next to them.

  Pablo focused his eyes on them. “Forgiveness is a hard thing to ask for,” he said softly.

  “Yes, and it’s a hard thing to give.” Thomas moved from Carissa’s protective arms and sat up as straight as he could. “But in the past few weeks I’ve learned a lot about forgiving.”

  Pablo gently placed a hand on each of their shoulders.

  “I’m asking for your forgiveness now.”

  “And I forgive you.” Thomas tried to smile, but winced in pain. He leaned back in Carissa’s arm and she dabbed his lip with the tissue then kissed the top of his head.

  She wanted everyone to leave so she could take care of him and love away his pains. All of his pains.