Taylored to Perfection (Taylor Made Book 2)

by kj lewis

  “Mrs. Taylor.” Cassie greets me as the doors open.

  “Thank you.” I accept my Diet Coke. She gives Graham a defiant stare when he mumbles something under his breath. Kissing me, he heads towards his office as Cassie and I head towards mine to begin our day.

  “Big plans this weekend?” Jackson asks, resting against my door.

  “Nope. Do y’all want to come over? We can carve pumpkins?” I ask, still trying to find someone to do it with me.

  “I wish. We have a thing with Patrick’s parents this weekend.” He rolls his eyes. “Maybe we can plan a dinner Monday night.” I nod as he takes the seat across from me. “Are you finally clear to see Addie?”

  “I am. Kyle said he’d like a couple more days, but I should be able to see her by the end of the weekend. I think I would be fine to visit now, but Kyle is worried about the virus Addie picked up during her transition. He thinks she’s more susceptible, so he’d rather me wait a few more days. How was she when you saw her?”

  “She looked good, I thought. Harry and Eloise have been there most nights, I believe.”

  “I know. I’ve told him what I think we should do, but he wants to make sure there isn’t anything to fight for. I think he just needs some time to adjust to it. I didn’t get to talk to him yesterday. Did he mention anything about my comments about the Forrester’s in my interview?”

  “He just talked about how proud he was.”

  “I know. I just hate coming between my father and his family.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Harry has never approved of the way Forrest handled the business. I think this has been a long time coming.” He stands. “Give me a hug. I won’t see you for a few days.” He hugs and kisses my forehead before letting me go. “See you Monday.” He exits as Cassie enters.

  “Mrs. Taylor. It’s time,” she reminds me before ushering me to the elevator.

  “Hello, beautiful.” Graham greets me before backing me into a corner to fondle and kiss me on the ride down to the garage where Smith and Teague are waiting for us.

  “What are you guys doing this weekend? Want to bring your wife and you bring Joy and we’ll carve pumpkins?” I ask.

  “I’ll see what our plans are,” Smith says pulling up to a tall building on 5th Avenue on the upper west side.

  “Why are we here?” I ask Graham as he holds his hand out to help me out of the car.

  “I need to see an old friend. It won’t take long.” His hand wraps around mine as I follow him into The Pierre. Graham announces our arrival to the doorman controlling the elevators to the private residences.

  “You’re expected, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor.” He pushes the button for the PH before exiting.

  “Who lives here?” I look at Graham.

  “Elizabeth Taylor use to.”

  “That’s cool, but I mean now.” The elevator doors open and I’m answered by a familiar face.

  “Emme.” Colleen greets me with a kiss to each cheek. “Graham.” She greets him in the same fashion.

  “Thanks for doing this Colleen,” he says as we enter into the penthouse. It has stunning views of the park.

  “This is what a hundred million will buy you in New York,” Colleen says.

  “Whose place is this?” I look around, more than a little awed at my surroundings.

  “Annalise Hamilton’s,” she says as we follow her into a large ballroom with only four wooden chairs, one occupied by a woman I would guess to be in her nineties.

  “Annalise. This is Emme. The young lady I was telling you about.”

  “It’s lovely to meet you, dear.” She makes the effort to stand.

  “Please, keep your seat. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I reach for her hand and squeeze it.

  “Annalise.” Graham kisses her on the cheek.

  “You keep an eye on this one.” She smiles at me. “My husband never liked him. Always thought Graham wanted to steal me away.”

  “He was right.” Graham returns her playfulness, and I realize this is someone he respects.

  “Annalise and her husband Robert are old New York,” Graham says to me, waiting patiently for me to connect the dots.

  “Robert Hamilton?” I ask breathlessly. “Your husband was Robert Hamilton?”

  “Even dead he still has the same effect on women.” Colleen laughs taking a seat next to Annalise.

  “I’m sorry. But Robert Hamilton is one of the most influential cello players of his generation and any to follow. What a pleasure to meet you. Your husband’s music touched my life in ways you could never understand.” I think back to when playing the cello was my safe place.

  “I hope you and Graham have all the happiness and love my Robert and I had.” Annalise pats my hand fondly. “May you receive many blessings for your birthday.”

  “You brought me to meet Annalise Hamilton for my birthday,” I whisper, shocked and touched by such an amazing gift. “This is the best birthday gift I have ever received.” I crouch down to be eye level with her. “Thank you for taking the time to meet me today. I am so honored. This is a once in a lifetime experience for me.”

  “You’re sweet, dearie, but I’m not your gift.” She nods and a butler in long tails exits the ballroom. “This is your gift.” She motions and I turn to see three butlers with white gloves enter. One is carrying a music stand, one a bow and the other a cello. Graham positions a chair across from the three of them and gestures for me to take a seat.

  The butlers arrange the stand and set the cello in front of me, while the last one offers me the bow.

  “This is a Stradivarius,” I whisper in amazement as my fingers trace the body.

  “Yes it is,” Annalise whispers back to me before winking. “It was Robert’s most treasured cello. She’s affectionately called the Countess. She is from the 1700’s.”

  “There are, like, maybe twenty of these in existence.”

  “It would be my honor if you would play the song in front of you,” Annalise says after I sit in shock for a few minutes. “It was the last piece Robert wrote. He died before finishing the last four bars.”

  “Annalise, I’m not worthy of this experience. I haven’t played—”

  “I know your history. Colleen told me. You are exactly the person Robert would have wanted to play for him. When we were newly married, Robert wanted to make it on his own. His family had money, but he wanted to make it on his own first. Our first child died when he was six years old. After that Robert didn’t play for several years. He went to work for his dad. It wasn’t until his father fired him and told him to stop hiding behind his grief, that he understood it was okay to deeply love something even in the face of loss. The rest is history.”

  “Music- history. But he had the talent to play this song.” I glance at the sheet music. “Even when I was playing for hours a day, I could never match the talent needed for this song.” I run my fingers over the sheet music. “Did he always write his music in ink?”

  “He did. He didn’t believe there were mistakes in creating music. Just opportunities.”

  I hear music in my head as I read the notes he’s written. Lost in the beauty of what I’m hearing, I don’t immediately realize that I’ve begun playing. I see now why the cello is a she. The song her heart sings is unmatched by any cello I’ve heard. I smile and giggle when I come to a fast run of notes, with aggressive rhythms and bowings, imagining the joy he took in trying to trip up the ones to play behind him. I hear the sadness of the loss he experienced. When I play the last note, I’m breathless at what I just experienced.

  “You finished it.” Annalise stands and comes to look at the sheet of music before looking at me. “You finished it.” She says again when she sees the confusion on my face. “You wrote the last bars.”

  Everything comes into focus and I realize I did. “I’m sorry Annalise. I was so caught up in what he was expressing, that it just seemed like the ending he was heading toward. I meant no disrespect. I was just so lost in the piece.”
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  Patting my cheek, she places her hand on my shoulder. “You just gave me a joy I haven’t had since Robert passed.” She turns and gathers up the sheets of music. “Here. He wrote this for you. He just didn’t know it yet.”

  “Annalise. I can’t. That’s very kind of you. Just this experience alone will be unmatched in my lifetime.”

  “Finish it. Write the ending.” She takes my hand and places the music in it. I stand, handing the cello to the butler so I can express my gratitude with a hug. Graham and I say our goodbyes, and I promise to come back and play for her again. The butler provided us with a leather portfolio to store the music safely.

  “Your wife is a gift. Treasure her always,” Annalise tells Graham before we leave.

  The elevator doors are barely closed before Graham has me backed in a corner, pouring his love into a kiss. Breathless he cups my face. “God, I love you,” he declares before we exit the elevator.

  We ride only a couple of blocks before parking outside of a tall, glass-sided building. Myles is waiting and takes the wheel when Smith and Teague exit the car with us. We take another elevator ride, sixty-two stories to be exact, as I tell Teague and Smith about getting to meet Annalise Hamilton. The door opens to the roof and Graham’s helicopter is waiting for us along with Jim.

  “Graham. Mrs. Taylor.” He dips his head.

  “Where are we going? Is the function not in the city?” I ask, tightening my grip on Graham when we are further out. The height and precariousness of my surroundings makes me uneasy.

  “Is it safe to take off this high up?”

  “I do it all the time,” Jim assures me as I follow Teague when he boards, taking his usual seat.

  “We’re going to the Hamptons. Since everyone already had plans, I thought you and I could start your birthday weekend early and spend it at Pemberton Place.” Graham refers to the name I gave our house in the Hampton’s—Ruth’s maiden name.

  “Thank you.” I settle into his side. His arms wrap around me as he whispers words of love in my ear.

  “You’re getting more accustomed to flying,” he observes when I pour us each some wine. Teague is watching Sports Center with earphones in place.

  “Maybe. Although, I think it has to do more with feeling safe when I’m with you.” I take a seat on his lap when I return.

  “I understand why you stopped playing, but, babe, you need to play. I was blown away listening to you today. I can see why Julliard wanted you. You have a talent that should be shared. When you played for me the first time, I thought you were great, but I was too wrapped up in how sexy you looked giving me your heart. Today, I was able to focus solely on your ability, and I was mesmerized.”

  “I’ve been thinking about playing again. But for you and the family. I don’t want a life of touring. I told you. I don’t want to be someone who also happens to be your wife. I want to be your wife who happens to be whatever I decide to be. You are my life, Graham.”

  Graham shows me some of the pictures the designers have sent for the remainder of the house. I’ve signed off on the furnishings for about half. We still have about seven rooms to go. The sun sets while we are in flight, and it’s just dark when we land.

  We say our goodbyes to Jim before Teague drops us at the house. The helipad on the property is finally complete. We could walk it if we were so inclined.

  I place my hand on the wall. The door unlocks and the lights in the house turn on.

  “Good Evening, Mrs. Taylor,” a male voice says.

  “Creepy,” I tell Graham before I enter the house. “When did the house get a voice?”

  “Just the front door.”

  “Why don’t we freshen up, and we’ll get a bite to eat,” he suggests, guiding me to the stairs by the small of my back.

  There’s a new dress and shoes laid out on the bed along with a palm sized box wrapped in a purple satin bow.

  “You can’t open that until tomorrow,” Graham says, watching me.

  “Then why tease me with it today?” I pout.

  “Because I can.” He slaps me on the ass when he walks by. “We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Chef Michel is in town and holding the chef’s table. I’m finally getting to share in the mini food orgasms you have in public when he cooks for you.”

  As expected Chef Michel doesn’t disappoint, and I am in a food coma by the time we leave with extra dessert in hand.

  “You looked beautiful tonight,” Graham says sliding a long silk nightgown over me. Not my usual sleeping attire. “I thought we might look around and see how the things we chose look in the house.” He takes my hand and leads me down the steps.

  “It all looks amazing. I love the way they displayed our family photos.”

  “They did a good job. Once you place your stamp on it, it will be perfect.” We make note of what rooms are left and how we want to use them.

  “I turned on the heaters before dinner. Thought we might sleep outside again if you want to. In a couple of weeks, it will be too cold.”

  I clap my hands in excitement. “I was hoping you would want to.” I take the stairs to the deck.

  “Movie?” I ask since it’s still early.

  “We haven’t finished your book,” he says, lifting To Kill a Mockingbird off the night stand.”

  “I had forgotten. Read to me?” I smile while climbing under the covers. The bed feels like heaven and I’m reminded how less than three months ago, I slept on a couch every night.

  Graham turns on the fireplace and the stars in the ceiling before climbing in and reading me to a peaceful sleep.

  “Good morning, beautiful.” Graham greets me when I wake.

  “Good morning, handsome. Were you watching me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why and for how long?” I roll into him.

  “Because you’re gorgeous, and I love to watch you sleep. You’re my anchor.” He wraps his arms around me.

  “Happy birthday, baby. I have a present for you.” He raises his brows playfully at me before raising my hands above my head, lowering himself onto me.

  “What would you like to do today?”

  “Do you need to work?” I take a sip of the Diet Coke Graham had in the refrigerator with a ribbon tied around it.

  “Not today. Today is all about you.” He eats the last of his waffle.

  “I’d like to carve a pumpkin.”

  “What is it with you and pumpkins?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug my shoulders. “It was always something we did as a family. My grandparents grew them on the farm. We would each carve one and then everyone would vote on whose was the best. And it means we are officially into fall, which is my favorite season, and it means that winter is around the corner. Also one of my favorite seasons.”

  “How many seasons are your favorite?” he winks. “Pumpkins it is. Let’s get changed. We’ll go to the farmer’s market.” He clears our plates.

  “Dress warmer.” His head pokes through the top of his sweatshirt. “It’s sunny out. I thought we’d put the top down.”

  I shake the box with the purple ribbon. “Can I open this now?” I ask, listening to it rattle.

  “Dress warmer,” Graham repeats a little more forcefully, taking the box out of my hands.

  “Alright. You don’t have tell me twice.” I roll my eyes, throwing on my favorite sweater of his. He replaces the Diet Coke I take out of the fridge with a bottle of water before opening the door to the garage for me.

  “After you.” He kisses me on the bridge of my nose when I stop in front of him to kiss him on his chin.

  “I love you,” I say before turning and walking into the garage, stopping short.

  “Happy Birthday, baby.”

  Parked in the garage is a 1965 International Harvester Scout in Vegas blue filled with pumpkins in the back.

  “Graham.” I jump onto him wrapping my arms and legs around him, kissing him all over his face. I don’t
know if he was anticipating this attack, or if his legs braced for the impact out of the shock of being mounted. Either way, he’s still standing.

  “I love it! I’m speechless. I can’t believe it!”

  He is wearing a huge silly grin. I can tell he is pleased with himself. “Unmount me and let’s have a look.”

  Sliding down his body, I grab his hand as I walk around the vehicle.

  “This is so amazing. Look. Ours had a dent on the same bumper.”

  “That’s your dent.” He nods. “Well, whoever’s dent it is.” He shrugs.

  “What?”

  “This is your car.”

  “I know. For my birthday.” I run my hand over a pumpkin. Clapping again at my excitement.

  “No. I mean this is your car.”

  “Wait, what? But how?”

  “Smith followed the trail at the DMV in Tennessee, and got the name of the person you sold it to. They still had it in their garage with the thought they would restore it. When the economy took a hit, he never got around to it. I made it worth his while and had it brought up.” He hands me the box, untying the purple ribbon before removing the top. Inside is the key. It’s on a leather keychain with a silver square. Inside the square are the same Zeppelin lyrics he engraved on my iPod.

  “Shall we?” He opens the driver’s door for me to slide in.

  “I thought we’d take a drive before our pumpkin carving contest.”

  I take a minute to soak in the car. Running my hands over the steering wheel, I’m slammed with emotions of missing Addie. All the memories of our time together living in this car come flooding back. It’s like watching home movies of us in my head.

  “Emelia?” Graham says, sliding across the seat to hold me when I lay my head against the steering wheel and cry for the first time since I was eleven.

  “It’s ok. Just let it out.” Graham’s voice soothes me. It’s the first thing he has said since he pulled me on his lap and wrapped me in his arms so many minutes ago. Once I got started, I couldn’t stop. All the tears that haven’t fallen over the last fifteen years came pouring out of me. Graham is perfectly content to sit and hold me while running his hands through my hair and over my back. My arms are wrapped around his chest, holding on to him like he is my lifeline. Nothing could be truer, I think, sitting with my face against his neck, eyes closed.