Playing the Maestro
Page 9
Carly’s mouth dropped, along with her haughty attitude. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Is she going to be okay?”
“Yeah, it’s asthma stuff. My sister’s keeping an eye on her.”
“Gosh. Poor little thing.” She stuck her reed in her oboe. “Should I send a card?”
“It’s okay. They’re handling it great. It seemed to scare me worse than her.”
“That’s because you’re a caring aunt, sweetie.”
“I try.” Melody settled into her seat, feeling as though she’d been spared Carly’s laser gaze for the time being.
Wolf took the podium, and his eyes traveled right down to Melody’s bare legs. He took in an almost imperceptible gulp of breath and his eyes flashed wide before dropping to his score.
Hot damn! Melody gloated as she assembled her flute. Take that, Mr. Let’s Just Be Colleagues.
Melody’s smiled wiped right off her face when she turned to Carly. Her friend gaped like she’d just seen him blow her a kiss. “Wait a sec. Is there something going on between you and the conductor?”
Blake chose that moment to enter the stage. Melody squirmed, wishing her music stand could go up three inches further. She’d told Carly everything about her life ever since their college days, so she wasn’t sure she could get away with hiding this whopper of a secret.
With Blake’s fine-tuned ears, she had to try.
“What? The conductor and me? That’s ridiculous.” Melody picked up her flute and played the loudest note she could, signaling to Carly the conversation was over. Then, she launched into her Taffanel and Gaubert exercise number four, which should take at least twenty minutes from start to finish.
Carly grabbed the end of Melody’s flute and pulled it from her mouth. “No one plays Taffanel and Gaubert for no reason. I’ve been your best friend for the last ten years. I know when you’re hiding something. Now spill.”
Melody glanced at Blake. He picked at a piece of lint on his shirt. Now would be a good time to ask for the tuning pitch. Carly couldn’t talk with her reed in her mouth and the violinist just sat there inspecting his outfit.
Carly tapped her foot. “So?”
“I can’t talk right now.” Melody brought her flute to her mouth. “I need to practice. The concerto competition is coming up.”
“Sure.” Carly spoke over Melody’s scales. “Leave your best friend in the dark. Guess I’m not as important as your new fling.”
Anger, embarrassment, and guilt ripped through Melody as she raced around her scales. Carly had been her most loyal friend; they’d weathered everything together. Didn’t she know her well enough to read her signals? Now, this one secret date had gotten between them. Melody could never tell Carly, and Carly would always wonder.
And it didn’t even matter! Her one-night relationship with Wolf had come and gone like a heartbeat, so it wouldn’t leave a path of destruction following her for the rest of her career with the Civic Symphony. She hated herself for liking Wolf, and she hated Wolf for asking her out. They both should have known better.
Melody didn’t speak to Carly for the rest of rehearsal. She could have sworn her friend played two cents flat on all their octaves just to annoy her. She had to jam her flute against her lower lip to blow down enough to compensate. After the last note rung throughout the hall, Carly picked up her oboe and stormed off stage, which hit Melody right in the gut. Usually, they walked to their cars together.
Melody cleaned the inside of her flute, not even bothering to wipe the fingerprints off. She scurried down the front aisle and saw Wolf standing and talking to Blake by the main entrance.
That’s one party I don’t want to crash.
She turned around and weaved her way through the exodus of people and cases, choosing the back exit. Sure, she had to go through two side alleys to get to the main street, but she’d rather take her chances than have to face either of them.
Blake would sense the tension between her and Wolf. He was too into himself to notice some things, but he wasn’t blind as a bat.
As she shuffled down the steps, a shady figure cast a long shadow in the dimly lit alley between the Dumpster and an old parked car without tires. Melody considered going back in, but the figure didn’t move, so she picked up her pace and walked by.
“Spare some change, miss?”
He stepped out into the moonlight, standing between her and the steps leading to the exit that she’d come out of. The man was younger and meatier than she originally thought, looking more like a thug than a homeless street person. He wore a plaid shirt with the arms torn off and ripped jeans with dark stains running down the front. His shaved head glowed in the moonshine.
“No, sir,” she muttered and increased her pace. Sure, she felt bad, but she couldn’t be whipping out her purse in a dark alley.
Relief hit her as she turned the corner and caught sight of the brightly lit main street. Just a few more steps.
Another man, this one leaner with long, greasy, dark hair and wearing a leather vest with nothing underneath, leaned on the brick wall. By now, she wished she’d stayed and ran into Wolf and Blake.
“That’s a nice bag you’ve got there.”
He pointed to her leather flute case strapped over her shoulder. It wasn’t a golden flute like Sandra’s, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t expensive. Her parents had bought her the solid silver, handmade Haynes flute in high school. But it wasn’t insured against theft.
She’d have to walk by him to get onto the street. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw the bald thug step into the alley behind her. He licked his lips and suggestively raised an eyebrow.
Melody’s heart sped up. How could this be happening? Just a moment ago, she was worried about being embarrassed. Now she worried about being dead.
The lean, greasy-haired man reached for her strap, and Melody yanked her flute away. She shoved him back and desperately bolted around him. The street was only steps away when he pushed her forward. She went flying, and her face hit the cement with a startling crack. Her bags fell on top of her, knocking the air out of her lungs.
Melody turned on her back, feeling hot blood ooze down the side of her head. Both men stood over her, gloating. She wanted to smack them in the face or kick their balls until their bodies crumpled up, but dizzying stars blossomed across her vision. She tried to pull herself up, and pain exploded down her neck.
She panicked, breathing in and out in fast spurts. What if I’m paralyzed? Sandra will have an empty seat to fill, all right.
That thought was quickly overshadowed by memories of her night with Wolf. She should have kept kissing him after Ms. Maxhammer’s doppelganger walked away. If she was going to end up in a Dumpster a week later, her job wouldn’t have mattered, and she could have had the night of her life.
The lean man crouched down and ran a finger along her cheek. “Should have given me the bag, sweetheart.” He pulled her flute from her arm.
The other man grabbed her foot and pulled her further down the alley.
This is it. I’m dead.
The finality of the moment stole her breath away. It had happened so fast. She finally understood how life could turn on the head of a pin. Oh, Laini, will you ever forgive me?
Out of nowhere, the man dropped her foot and fell to the ground with a thud. Melody tilted her head to the side. The other man screamed and his forehead hit the brick wall.
She turned her head despite the pain. Wolf stood over her, rubbing his fist. He moved to punch the leaner man again, but the thief dropped her flute and ran. The bald man was out cold at her feet.
Wolf kneeled beside her with concern lighting his eyes on fire. “Mel. Mel! Are you okay?”
She blinked, then the world went black.
Bright lights. Beeping. The murmuring of gentle voices.
I must be in heaven.
Melody opened her eyes and saw Wolf’s gorgeous face leaning over her. “She’s awake!” He glanced across her bed at a middle-aged woman wearing sc
rubs with polka dots, like a clown. No, not a clown. A nurse.
The woman leaned over, placing a hand on her forehead. “I’ll get the doctor.”
“Doctor?” Melody struggled to sit up.
Wolf pressed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Stay there and rest. You’ve have a rough night.”
The surroundings came into focus. A small TV hung from the corner of the room. Plaid curtains draped over a far window. A painting of a hilly landscape hung on the wall. Beside her, a heart monitor—her heart monitor—beeped.
White sheets covered her body. Someone had put the ugliest tube socks she’d ever seen on her feet.
“Where am I?”
“Southhampton Hospital.” Wolf slipped his hand into hers. “Do you remember anything that happened?”
Melody thought back to the men in the alley trying to take her flute. A vision of Wolf standing over her like some archangel surfaced. “You saved my life.”
Wolf held up her leather case. “And your flute. I knew that would be your first question.”
Gratitude and relief overwhelmed her. Only hours ago, she’d decided to hate him. Now she owed him her life—and her flute. Her eyes grew watery. “I don’t know how to thank you…”
Wolf squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to. I’m just glad you’re all right.”
Melody shook her head, angry more with herself than the thieves. “It was stupid of me to walk down that alley. Usually, I leave with Carly. But we had a fight and I wasn’t thinking clearly…”
Wolf smiled as if he took her side without even knowing what they fought about. “Well, she’s going to feel really guilty now.”
“Did you call my parents or my sister?”
Wolf shook his head. “I didn’t have their numbers, and your phone is dead.”
“It’s an ancient artifact with a crappy battery.”
Wolf laughed. “You’re telling me. I barely recognized it.”
An older man wearing a white coat walked into the room and they fell silent. “Mr. and Mrs. Mires?”
Melody opened her mouth to correct him, but Wolf held up his hand to Melody and addressed the doctor. “Yes?”
The doctor extended his hand. “Dr. Isaak.” He turned to Melody. “You’re one lucky lady.”
Funny, lying in a hospital bed with a headache the size of Texas didn’t make Melody seem very lucky. “So, I’m not going to die?”
The doctor chuckled. “No. You’ve had a minor concussion and a small laceration to the side of your head, but other than that, you’re healthy. You’re free to go home.”
“Really?”
Dr. Isaak turned to Wolf. “Mr. Mires, keep an eye on her for the next twenty-four hours. If she feels overly faint, dizzy, or nauseous, call this number.”
“Okay, Doc.” Wolf winked at Melody.
“Good.” The doctor shook Wolf’s hand one more time. “Now, I don’t advise driving or running any type of machinery for the rest of the week. No sports, no swimming, and definitely no strenuous activity.”
Melody thought of Wolf and blushed. Was there a chance they’d engage in strenuous activity?
“Yes, sir.” Wolf nodded seriously.
“Stay safe.” The doctor left as quickly as he’d come. Melody was thankful he’d checked on her right away after she’d woken up. From blacking out. From being attacked. Suddenly, the full force of the night came back at her like a sledgehammer.
“Did they catch the guys who attacked me?” Melody whispered, afraid to know the answer.
“They did.” Wolf started packing up her belongings. “They’re at the station as we speak. The police will need a statement later on in the week, but I’ve already given them my side of the story, so you’re free for now.”
Relief and a sense of justice gave her the strength she needed to pull herself up out of bed. She dangled her feet over the edge, wondering when she could take off those hideous socks. Bright pink, really? Only one question poked its way into her thoughts.
“Wolf?”
He glanced over at her while slipping on his overcoat. “Yes?”
“Mr. Mires?”
Wolf laughed. “It was the only way to get on the ambulance with you. To make sure you were all right.”
Melody smiled. “I kinda like the sound of it.”
Wolf tossed a pillow at her and laughed. “Me take your name? Not in a million years.”
Chapter Thirteen
Taking Back the Night
Wolf helped Melody into his black Mustang, then joined her as he slipped into the driver’s seat. “Well, I can’t take you back to your car, because you’re not allowed to drive. So, where to?”
After what had happened, the last thing Melody wanted to do was go back to an empty apartment. She considered being dropped at Laini’s, but then she’d have to tell her sister about the whole night and live her horrifying ordeal all over again. Besides, she didn’t want to disrupt their schedules midweek and upset them at the same time. Same with her parents.
Empty apartment it was. “Looks like you’ll have to drop me off at my place.”
“You know the doctor specifically told me to watch over you?”
Melody paused. What was he inferring? Wolf’s tone wasn’t seductive at all. Only deep concern underlined his voice. “I’ll be fine. My pet goldfish, Ursula, can keep an eye on me.”
Wolf gave her a skeptical look. “Can this goldfish dial your phone if you need help?”
Melody bit her lip. Here it was, the moment of choice. Did she really want to go back to her apartment alone? No. Would she enjoy Wolf’s company? Most definitely. Could she live with the consequences? Unknown. But after looking death right in the face, Melody didn’t think she cared.
“Well, you could come in and stay the night—sleep on my couch, of course. That is, if you’re worried.” Melody winced. She was rambling, yet she couldn’t stop herself.
Wolf tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I would feel better staying with you…” His voice was tentative. Her next words could push him either way.
“I make a mean omelet.” If he wasn’t an egg lover, she was out of luck.
He grinned. “Ironically, going back to your place seems the most gentlemanly thing to do.” He glanced over as he turned the ignition. “Where do you live?”
Melody gave him her address. It felt so good to make a decision. She let go of a million expectations—other people’s expectations—and tonight she lived her life for her own. She’d already let one night get away from her, and she wasn’t going to do it again.
They pulled up in front of her apartment building and Wolf parked the car in her spot. Melody fumbled for her keys in her purse, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Did I pick up my underwear? Or leave out any food? A vision of her coveted bag of jellybeans spilled on the coffee table, along with her rack of hanging bras from the laundry came to mind. But she hadn’t done laundry in days. And she’d finished the bag of jellybeans while watching TV the other night.
Wolf took Melody’s hand and propped her up against him as she exited the car. She leaned into his warmth. Her head ached dully and a persistent dizziness still kept her from focusing on anything too long. The pain medication the nurse had given her was finally kicking in, but she didn’t want to push it.
Sure, great excuse for getting closer.
Silencing her inner Goody Two-shoes, she allowed Wolf to half carry her up the steps. He took her keys and unlocked the door. They walked into a hallway with silver numbers on each apartment and a plush rose-colored rug. Wolf clung to her protectively. “Which number?”
“Seventeen B, second floor.”
Wolf looked at the stairway across the hall. “You sure you can climb those steps?”
Melody laughed at the thought of him carrying her like a husband and wife on their wedding day. That was a bit much. “I’ll be fine.”
Taking one step at a time, she led Wolf up the stairs to her apartment. They rounded the bend and the familiar tilting numb
er one, followed by a dangling seven, decorating her white door came into view. “Home sweet home.”
Melody opened the door and made sure she was the first one in the apartment, just in case she had anything to clean up. A few glasses had been left out beside the kitchen sink and an old coffee cup with the tea bag still in it sat on the table, but nothing humiliating. Ursula swam up and down the front of her fishbowl, shouting silently at Melody to feed her.
“Very cozy. I like it.” Wolf walked in behind her, admiring her framed pictures of her, Laini, Violet, and their parents on the wall. A shot of her and Laini at her sister’s high school graduation hung by the door. Melody still had her braces on, and her hair had been crimped in tiny waves. Beside it was a photo of Violet at two years old playing in the grass with a red ball. Her parents with her and her sister at a local theme park hung next in line.
Melody pulled Wolf away from the wall wondering why she’d never given a thought to how embarrassing her parade of pictures really was. Women her age were hanging pictures of their new families, with their husbands and children, not the families they’d come from. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d brought a guy home with her.
Trying to act normally, Melody dropped a few flakes into the fishbowl and walked over to the cupboards. Wolf’s presence heightened the sensitivity of every hair on her arms and neck, and her skin prickled in anticipation. It was strange to see him, someone so mysterious and special, in her old, frumpy apartment.
“Would you like something to drink?” Melody opened the cupboards above her head, hoping the action would draw attention away from her blushing cheeks.
Wolf followed her and took her hands, bringing them down to her sides. Her heart sped. “Let me get that. You sit down and rest.”
She gave him a questioning glance, her hands still held in his. “You sure?”
He gave her a squeeze and led her to the old plaid couch she’d found at a yard sale. “Don’t worry, I’ll find my way around.”
Melody plopped down on the couch, not knowing what to do with herself in her own apartment. She’d sat on that couch a million times and this was the first instance she’d ever felt awkward and uncomfortable. So much had happened and she was glad he was here with her. The doctor was right—she was lucky.