“Please? I need a break and I can play ‘Memory’ in my sleep.”
Spencer’s comment about the talent at the Wain-right Inn was too fresh in Lexi’s mind for her to let that pass. “Oh, go take off your underwear and put a little extra into your playing.”
Francesca adjusted a peg. “And what’s with you? Did somebody’s cotton shrink in the drier?”
Lexi looked out over the dining room. It was the first seating on a Wednesday night, but the place was packed. The Wainright Inn had a great reputation, and many people drove from Texas’s larger cities to eat in the quiet elegance. “I just think we owe it to these people to give our best performance.”
“I very much hope you aren’t implying anything about the quality of my playing.” Francesca’s eyes looked like they were capable of shooting fire.
“I don’t want us to get stale, okay?”
Francesca tossed her head and signaled that she was ready to begin.
Lexi glanced at Francesca’s music stand and saw the Broadway’s Top Forty book open. Deliberately she opened Going for Baroque, and began playing the introduction.
Francesca made a strangled sound, then slowly closed her book and got out the Baroque one. She quietly checked her tuning, which Lexi knew was perfectly in pitch, tightened her bow, tested it, then loosened it.
In the meantime, Lexi had finished the introduction, and was forced to noodle around—hoping that nobody seated in the dining room was a Baroque scholar—before beginning again.
This time Francesca began playing when she was supposed to.
But Francesca had been known to hold a grudge, and Lexi knew all was still not forgiven when they began their fourth selection, a gigue. The lively dance had Lexi playing triplets against Francesca’s single-note bass line.
Francesca played first and she set a tempo that was going to have Lexi scrambling to keep up.
“Slow down, Frankie, it’s not a horse race,” Lexi hissed.
“I don’t want us to get stale,” Francesca said smugly.
All right. Fine. The piece became a tug-of-war as Lexi’s fingers flew over the keys. She was determined to make it all the way through without tangling her fingers, and Francesca was just as determined to keep the tempo fast.
They ended in a flourish that had Lexi out of breath.
A smattering of applause rippled across the room. It was rare that people interrupted their eating to notice the music, and it probably meant their musical tug-of-war had been observed, but Lexi and Francesca stood to bow, anyway.
“That was unprofessional,” Lexi said through her smile.
“That was exhilarating.” Francesca took an extra bow, though she didn’t deserve to. “We should play it that way every night.”
“Then you’ll play it alone.”
They took their seats.
“Oh, look. It’s the Handel.” Francesca positioned her bow. “Lots of lovely sixteenth notes, Lexi.”
Lexi stared at a piece that was worse than the gigue.
“Unless you think everyone is ready for a change of pace?”
Lexi glared at her, then took out the Broadway’s Top Forty book and banged out the introduction to the Cats medley.
“Tsk, tsk,” Francesca whispered. “We owe it to our audience to give our best performance.”
Which is how Lexi came to be playing Broadway show tunes after all when Spencer Price walked into the dining room. Alone.
Francesca hadn’t noticed him yet because she was overemoting as she played “Memory,” but Lexi had been looking around the room to see if she knew any of the diners.
As soon as she saw Spencer, she stared at her music, even though she had it memorized. What was he doing here? He hated this place.
She stole a look at him as he was being seated at a table right in the middle of the room. By swiveling her eyes, she could see him without turning her head.
He was dressed in a dark suit and white collarless shirt, and his hair was slicked back. If she hadn’t known better, she’d think her parents had had him made to order.
He was perfect. No, he redefined perfection. He set new standards for the male gender. He—
“What are you doing?”
Lexi jerked her eyes back to Francesca. They hurt from staring to the side. “Playing.”
“We just finished ‘Memory’!”
Lexi focused on the music. Apparently she’d repeated one too many times. “This is an encore.”
Francesca started playing again, but softer. “What is the matter with you?”
“So I got distracted. Don’t tell me it’s never happened to you.”
“It’s never happened to me.”
“Oh, really?” Lexi stared at Francesca’s selfrighteous profile. “Mr. December is sitting at table fourteen.”
Francesca’s bow jerked. “Omigawd.” She stared.
“And just think—maybe he’s seen you naked,” Lexi added evilly.
Francesca mangled the last notes. Lexi played louder, since Francesca’s performance had deteriorated.
“Omigawd,” she said again. “I’m sweating. We’re breaking after Fiddler on the Roof.”
They weren’t due to finish the set for another fifteen minutes, but Lexi wasn’t about to argue.
The last notes of “Sunrise, Sunset” had barely faded away before she and Francesca had hopped off the platform and were slipping out to the anteroom.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Francesca rounded on her. “How could you ask him to come here tonight without telling me?”
“I didn’t!”
“Then why is he here?”
“Dinner?” But Lexi knew he must be here to see her, since no one had come to join him.
“Lexi, did you see him?” Francesca’s eyes looked glazed.
“Yes. I’m the one who pointed him out.”
“No, I mean did you see him. Isn’t he gorgeous? Omigawd.”
Very eloquent, Lexi thought.
“I can’t believe you actually asked him out. I would have choked on my drool.”
Before Lexi succumbed to a retroactive attack of nerves, there was a knock and Julian Wainright, the owner, looked in. “Alexandra, the gentleman at table fourteen has invited you to join him.”
Francesca squealed and grabbed her arm.
Julian sent her an amused glance. “Are you interested? I can vouch for him. His name is Spencer Price and he’s a head honcho over at the Electronics Research Facility. Excellent taste in wine, as well. The waitstaff tells me he’s a generous tipper when it’s warranted.”
“We’ve met.” Lexi peeled Francesca’s fingers off her arm.
“What shall I tell him?”
Francesca poked her.
“Tell him I’ll be right out.”
“And that I’m coming with her.”
Julian nodded and left.
Lexi took a step forward, only to be jerked back by Francesca. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t go rushing out there. Make him wait a little. Anticipation heightens the pleasure.”
Lexi rolled her eyes. “I’m not playing games. We don’t have a relationship like that.” She pushed open the door.
“You have a relationship?”
Lexi ignored her and concentrated on walking between the tables without catching her long skirt on anything.
Spencer stood at their approach. His smile made her knees wobble a bit, but other than that, Lexi negotiated the tables without incident.
“I’ll bet you didn’t expect to see me here,” he said, holding a chair for her.
“Knowing this isn’t your favorite dining spot in Rocky Falls, no.”
“But it’s your favorite, so I thought I’d give it another chance.” He flashed his smile at her—the one with the dimple.
Behind her, Francesca whimpered. Or it could have been her underwear whimpering.
Lexi reached behind her and dragged Frankie to the side so Spencer wouldn’t think she’d made the sound. �
�This is my music partner and roommate, Francesca Fontaine.”
It was gratifying for Lexi to see that the woman who’d sent a naked picture of herself with her cello, the same woman who conversed with his picture every morning, was also reduced to speechlessness when face-to-face with Spencer Price.
As they shook hands, Spencer cocked his head. “Have we met before?”
“Oh, I would have remembered,” Frankie gushed.
Lexi knew the exact moment when it occurred to her roommate why she might look familiar. Her eyes widened, then narrowed in self-satisfaction. “Though if you think about it, I’m sure the reason I look familiar will come to you.”
Okay, that was enough. They were all still standing in the center of the room and there were only two chairs at the table. Lexi was sending telepathic messages to her oblivious roommate, urging her to leave when Spencer spoke.
“I’ll do that,” he said. “In the meantime, I don’t want to take up your break while Lexi and I discuss a mutual project.”
Even Francesca couldn’t ignore that. She sent him a sizzling look, then sashayed back to the anteroom. Lexi adjusted her chair so she blocked her brazen roommate’s retreat.
“Do you have a few minutes to talk?” Spencer asked her.
“Sure,” Lexi said, determined to present a casual contrast to Francesca, since there was no way she could compete with her.
“Have you eaten? Or would you care for a glass of wine?”
“Ordinarily I’d gladly accept. But tonight I’ve got another ninety minutes of performing to get through. Tomato juice would be fine, though.”
All Spencer had to do was glance over his shoulder and a waitress appeared. The female contingent was obviously keeping their eyes on him.
Lexi didn’t blame them at all.
After ordering her tomato juice, Spencer leaned forward on his elbows and the votive candle in the center of the table cast shadows under his eyebrows and cheekbones. Lexi shivered.
“Did you remember to call Texas Men?” he asked, his voice low and seductive—or at least that’s the way it sounded to Lexi.
Unfortunately she hadn’t called. “I didn’t get home until after five, and that’s when I learned Frankie and I were scheduled to play here tonight. This isn’t our regular night.”
“So you haven’t called Texas Men.”
Boy, he knew how to make a person feel guilty. “No, but I will. I said I would.”
“Good, because I’m going to bug you until you do.”
Having him leave her alone was supposed to motivate her to call?
“And don’t forget the letter.”
She’d forgotten the letter. “I’m researching as we speak.”
“Then I’d better start speaking about something else.” He gestured to the piano with his eyes. “You play very well.”
He’d unknowingly summed up her musical career. “Very well” wasn’t great, or fabulous, or stupendous, or transcendent, or sublime, or magical—all words used to describe Emily’s singing. But she wouldn’t tell him.
“Thanks. We like show tunes,” she added, wishing he could have arrived during their gigue duel.
He gave her a charmingly rueful grin that looked so attractive, Lexi wondered if he’d practiced it in front of a mirror. “Still haven’t forgiven me for that crack, have you?”
“I was unaware that you wanted to be forgiven.”
SPENCER BLINKED then sat back and crossed his arms as he studied her. He was getting nowhere with her.
Did ice water run in her blue-blooded veins?
Or had she somehow figured out his wrong-side-of-the-tracks background?
No. He wasn’t going to think that way. The prejudice he’d endured growing up was an old wound that had healed long ago. He chose to ignore the occasional painful twinge. “You don’t like me much, do you?” Sometimes the direct approach was best.
A flush tinged her pale skin. “I don’t know you.”
Spencer relaxed. She was reserved; that was it. He found her reserve refreshing. And surprising, considering the hot little number she had as a roommate. “We’ll have to remedy that.”
“Yes, we will,” she said with a frank smile, and sipped her tomato juice. “But I don’t think ten minutes now will get us through Christmas dinner.”
He hadn’t been thinking about Christmas dinner. He’d been thinking about her, and the way she’d looked when he’d first seen her at the piano. He wondered if she knew how she looked when she played. She put her whole body into her music, bringing new life into the worn-out melodies she was playing.
And her face... He could hardly believe the woman coolly regarding him across the table was the same woman whose face so transparently expressed the emotions of the music she was playing.
Or maybe she was expressing her emotions. Maybe she wasn’t interested. Maybe she... Wait a minute. In his mind, Spencer replayed her last remark, something about ten minutes not being long enough.
An opening, and he’d missed it. Was he that out of practice? “We’ll have to get together,” he said, hoping she hadn’t noticed the gap. “We could have dinner here some night when you aren’t performing. What’s a good day for you?”
And for some reason he couldn’t fathom, she smiled, and her smile kept getting wider until it lit up her whole face.
He blinked at the transformation and wondered if good old Julian offered frequent eater cards. Because if bringing her to this place made her smile like that, then that’s what Spencer was going to do.
“What a sweetie!”
“Me?” No one called him “sweetie.” “Sweetie” didn’t fit his image.
She nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re willing to come back here with me because you know I like it, when we could just as easily talk in either of our offices or on the phone.”
Spencer wouldn’t mind doing more than talking, but he figured now wasn’t the time to mention it. This was the first breakthrough he’d had with her.
“You know what, though?”
Spencer shook his head.
“I think I’d like you to teach me to shoot pool at Busters.”
An image of Lexi bending over a pool table in a tight skirt about as long as her hair flashed into his mind. “Okay.” He grinned. “Okay.”
Oookay.
Lexi pushed up the sleeve of her turtleneck and looked at her watch. “We should start again in five minutes. Francesca is going to ask me questions about you and I haven’t got anything more to tell her, except that I’m going to learn to shoot pool.”
Francesca, her partner. Spencer was having trouble remembering what she looked like. “What do you want to know?”
“For starters, tell me what’s true and what’s not true in your Texas Men write-up.”
“The education stuff is right because that’s all I’d give them. They had to make up everything else.”
She seemed disappointed. “So you aren’t looking for a woman to help you finish building your mountain cabin where you’d spend long winter nights making love by the fire?”
He felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him. “I don’t have a mountain cabin.” But it was sounding like a dam good idea. “And do you see any mountains around here?”
“They didn’t say where it was.”
Spencer drew a deep breath to make sure he still could.
“I suppose I should have read the thing.”
“You didn’t even read it?”
“Not much point. Basically, on good days, I work on the robotic hand we’re developing. On other days, I have to raise money to fund the project.”
“And that’s what the calendar was.”
Spencer nodded. “Worked great, too. So—give me a quick sound bite about you.”
And her face changed again—it sort of closed up.
What had he said?
“You’re going to get more than a sound bite.” Her voice was strained as she stared over his shoulder. “You’re going
to get to meet my parents.”
5
HERE? Now? Though Spencer had on his money suit, he wasn’t yet prepared to make his first impression on Lawrence Jordan. He hadn’t studied the man. Hell, he was barely acquainted with the daughter.
Of all the rotten luck.
Apparently his sentiments were echoed by Lexi. With a wary smile, she continued to gaze over his shoulder. The fingers gripping the tomato juice were white at the tips. Great. Tense family relations. His favorite.
“Hey...how friendly are we?”
“It depends. Moderately, I suppose.”
“Then look at me and smile.”
She made the effort, but without any success. He crossed his eyes and was rewarded with a surprised laugh. She relaxed marginally, then stared at her parents again. Spencer judged the Jordans’ progress across the dining room by Lexi’s ever-tightening grip on her glass.
Right. Standing, he turned to find an attractive older couple approaching them. They were tall, thin and well dressed. Spencer had met their kind a hundred times before. He wished he could reassure her.
Lexi’s parents were regarding him with undisguised curiosity, sizing him up, reserving judgment.
He heard the scrape of Lexi’s chair as she stood, too.
“Alexandra, I didn’t expect to see you this evening. You’re working, I take it.” Her mother advanced with outstretched hands. She clasped Lexi’s and they exchanged an air kiss before Mrs. Jordan faced him, obviously waiting for an introduction.
Lexi obliged. “Mom, Dad, this is Dr. Spencer Price. Spencer, these are my parents.”
Dragged up the social ladder by his title, but that was okay by him. Whatever worked. “Delighted to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Jordan.” Spencer shook Lawrence’s hand in his best pressing-the-flesh style. “Would you care to join us?” Spencer was fairly certain they’d decline. At least he hoped so. With Lexi’s break nearly over, an acceptance meant he’d be alone with them.
“Thank you, but no. We’re attending a function in the wine cellar and just stopped by to say hello,” Mrs. Jordan said. Then she added; “Did Alexandra introduce you as Dr. Price?”
“Yes, I head up a team at the research facility.”
Mr. December Page 6
