Wolf shrugged. “I might have.”
“I had no idea you liked clothes so much, and shopping…” Melody didn’t know where this was going, but it didn’t look good. His salary for the Easthampton Civic Symphony couldn’t possibly support this type of spending.
“I don’t. Alda does.”
Jealousy barreled through her. “You bought all this for her?”
Wolf crossed his arms. “More like she helped herself without my knowledge.”
Bingo. Just like that, the pieces fit together. Melody’s gaze shot up as anger ripped through her. Only this time, the anger wasn’t directed at him. “She spent all your money?”
Wolf nodded. “Alda stole my Visa and maxed it out, ruining my credit. The modeling industry had turned her into someone I couldn’t live with. We broke up exactly three months ago tomorrow, if you look at the last purchase date. I thought it was over, but she must have found a new use for me, because she followed her father here and crashed the party. She used my own money to donate to the orchestra, all to get me back so I could fuel her latest pursuits.”
Melody dropped the papers on the end table, unable to look any further. “I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry you have to see it. But it’s the only way to prove I’m telling the truth. I should have told you about Alda a long time ago. She uses people to get ahead, and I was just another stepping stone along the way, a stone she wasn’t done with.”
Melody’s heart reopened. Wolf was so much more than that. “You’re not a stepping stone to me.”
He leaned toward her and placed his hand on her arm, rubbing his thumb over her bare skin, making her body tingle. “I know. That’s why I had to come see you and explain. I’m falling for you, Mel. And it’s not because you look like Alda. In fact, I stayed away from you for that very reason. Until our first date, when I realized you were much more beautiful than Alda, inside and out. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me since I got to the States. I don’t want to lose you.”
Melody stepped into his arms, resting her head on his chest. She nuzzled against him, her heart melting with this new, open, vulnerable side of Wolf, a side with no secrets. “You won’t. I’m right here.”
His arms wrapped around her, pulling her even closer to him with a need she felt in his tense, wound-up muscles. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent like a diver breaking the surface for oxygen.
He kissed the top of her head, then placed small nibbles along her neck and the line of her jaw. Melody couldn’t stand it any longer. She turned her head and met his lips with her own, kissing him with an unrestrained passion that had built since last night.
“Stay,” she whispered in between gasps for air. She could barely stop to speak, she was so hungry for more. He tasted of rain and spice and man. She wanted to press against every inch of him. Only moments ago, she’d thought he was someone else’s, and now he was singularly hers.
In response to her plea, Wolf kissed her back more forcefully, and his hands moved under her shirt and up her back, lighting her skin on fire. Never had anything felt so right.
Melody pulled him to the guest bedroom, where the pattering of rain rushed in like soft music through a carelessly open window, and the scent of the sea drifted across the beach. They tumbled onto the down comforter in a tangle of limbs.
If they made a mess, Laini would just have to forgive her.
Chapter Nineteen
Evidence
The ride back to Easthampton from Laini Thomas’s beach house was pure bliss. Wolf cranked down the windows and blasted rock music from his speakers, tapping his fingers in rhythm to the beat. The air currents whipped his hair around him, but something else raised the hairs on the back of his neck.
Wolf was in love.
Too bad she couldn’t have come with him.
Melody had wanted to stay and practice for the concerto competition tomorrow. Besides, she couldn’t leave her car at Cape Cod, and they really shouldn’t be seen driving together.
Wolf had kissed her good-bye with a wish of good luck. He could still taste her sweetness on his lips. He’d do anything for her, which was why he was going right to the orchestral archives in Wallsworth Hall.
Blake had to be stopped, and he needed proof against him.
Wolf turned onto Main Street and parked his car the next block down. He didn’t want orchestra members wondering why he was in his office on a Sunday. A chill ran across his shoulders as he took the alley where Melody had been attacked. His shoes clicked on the irregular pavement, announcing his presence. He tightened his fists and continued, stepping over puddles and trash. Although he didn’t enjoy walking down the alley, he couldn’t let the memory of those two thugs intrude on his overall sense of safety. He unlocked the back door and slipped in.
With its heavy curtains and single dangling chandelier, Wallsworth auditorium looked like the ghost theater in Phantom of the Opera. Wolf shuffled down the front aisle and entered the back of the stage. He passed by his office and tiptoed straight to the library.
Using his key, he opened the creaky door and stepped in. Dust, and the scent of old, moldy papers tickled his nose. Boxes of unused programs were stacked along the left wall. A picture of the original orchestra, with Mr. Wallsworth in his early thirties conducting from the podium, hung on the adjacent wall, framed in silver and signed by all the orchestra members at the time.
Wolf didn’t know where to start, so he methodically opened each screechy cabinet and rummaged through the old, yellowed papers. Hours had passed, and he’d only searched half the cabinets. The Easthampton Civic Symphony had enough newspaper clippings, old programs, and copied parts from every symphony imaginable for three orchestras, never mind one. Taking a break, Wolf leaned against the cabinet he’d just searched and slid to the floor.
Maybe Melody, as much as he loved her, was being paranoid about Blake losing her music. The thought weighed him down with disappointment. With nothing to peg on Blake, he could possibly be working with the slippery devil for the next ten or fifteen years of his life.
If this orchestra succeeds.
He still hadn’t heard the numbers from the fund-raiser, and with the conductor walking out halfway through the night, that certainly did not bode well.
No. If Melody believed him, then he had to believe her, as well. Burying his head in his hands, Wolf rubbed his face and thought about where he’d hide the first flute part if he were Blake. Movement from the corner of the room drew his attention, and he snapped up, heart racing as if he’d been caught. A mouse scurried through a pile of old baskets holding fake ivy that draped all the way to the floor.
Wolf laughed at his own jumpiness and stopped abruptly as the corner of a white piece of paper winked back at him. He hurried over, digging through the ivy and pulling out a flute one part—the original—to the Hiefinger.
Hiefinger had been his old teacher back in Germany, and the composer only had one set of originals printed of his work. Of course, only Wolf knew this, because he was the one who’d recommended the piece for the orchestra.
Underneath it was a violin two part to Beethoven’s fifth, a clarinet part to a Strauss waltz, and a cello part to a Mozart symphony. Had Blake been doing this all along? Signaling out the members of the orchestra he wanted to replace by having them sight-read their music?
Shock rattled him to the core, followed by a vicious urge to protect his new girlfriend. Melody was right. Blake had hidden the music from her that night. How else would it have gotten shoved into an old set design way in the back of the archives?
Fury roiled deep inside him as he took the music and slipped it under his coat. How would he prove such a thing to the board? And would they care?
Wolf could bring it up at the concerto competition tomorrow, but he didn’t want to take away from Melody’s performance. No, it was best he bide his time and wait for an opportune moment, or when he had more evidence.
Wolf opened his phone and pressed Melody�
�s number. He’d memorized it last night, just as he’d memorized the line of her chin and the pattern of freckles across her nose as she slept.
“Hello, Wolf?” Melody’s voice was charged with excitement, which made him want to reach through the phone and hold her.
“Hello, beautiful.”
She laughed coyly on the other end, then her voice grew serious. “Did you find it?”
“Stashed away in the back of the archives.”
“I knew it!” she whispered. “That bastard had set me up from the beginning.”
“I know. I’m angry, too.” He tried to remain calm. “We can beat him together if we do it right.”
“I’m up against his sister in the concerto competition tomorrow. If she wins…”
“I’m not a judge, but I know she won’t. You’re an excellent player. You can win this, Mel.”
“Thanks.”
“How’s the planning on your end?”
Melody sighed and it sounded like she took a sip of water or coffee. “I talked to Laini, and she has a meeting tomorrow with the expense committee. She thinks we can pull it off, giving Blake nothing to go on against keeping you and the rest of the orchestra.”
“That’s wonderful news.”
“If we can pull it off.”
“We’ll get through this, Mel.”
Wolf hung up and slipped out of the library, making sure to replace everything how Blake had left it. The pieces were in place, and the stakes were high. The battle of power with Blake had begun.
Chapter Twenty
Final Claim
Although Wolf wasn’t on the judging panel, he wasn’t going to miss this concerto competition for the world, even if it meant he had to face a row of board members, judges, and Blake. Taking a deep breath, he walked into Wallsworth Hall. Conversations stopped midword, and everyone turned their heads. Ms. Maxhammer’s wrinkly face was set in a grim expression above her leopard-patterned silk blouse and chunky ebony necklace.
He felt like an executioner standing trial. Annoyance rose in Wolf’s chest. What has Blake done now?
The personnel manager stood and walked over to Wolf with a smug pursing of his lips. Wolf wanted to bring him down now, calling him out on his missing instrumental parts, but the competition was more important.
“What is the problem?” Wolf met him halfway, wishing the snake would have given him some sort of warning. “The fund-raiser was not a success?”
“No, the fund-raiser was excellent,” Blake muttered under his breath, “despite your disappearance and subsequent absence.”
“If this is about my leaving, I can explain. I had an emergency.”
“No, it’s not about you leaving.” Blake glanced back at the other board members, and they nodded for him to go on. “It’s about Alda Schuhmacher.”
Wolf scratched his head as the mention of her name stirred up bile in his stomach. He’d underestimated her again. All this time he’d thought Blake was the bad guy, but had his ex found a way to pull Blake’s puppet strings? “What has she done now?”
“She’s asked us to return every cent she donated in your honor on the grounds you are cheating on her with our very own flutist, Melody Mires.”
Wolf released a string of German swears. When he was finished, everyone stared at him like he’d gone crazy. He was thankful no one in the room knew what he’d said. “You didn’t give her the money back, did you?”
Blake shifted under his laser gaze. “Usually we don’t return donations, but after what you did, we didn’t want her complaining. The last thing we need right now is bad press. We have a member of the treasury working on the transaction right now.”
“For God’s sake, don’t give it to her.” Wolf glanced over every member of the board. “That woman is a con artist. She’s not my fiancée—she’s my ex. In fact, by hacking into my checking account and ruining my credit, she stole every penny I’d had back in Germany, and she used it to gain publicity at our event in the States.”
She must have sold all of the expensive items she’d bought with his credit card. “That’s my money for Christ’s sake.” Wolf shook his head. “Don’t give her the check. I have the paperwork to prove it.” He could use all of his old credit card statements. He’d already tried to convict her back in Germany, but now that she showed excessive wealth, he had more proof.
Ms. Maxhammer used her cane to stand and address Wolf. He could tell by the crinkles around her mouth this entanglement tested her patience. “Although I wish you would have brought this to our attention sooner, Mr. Braun, I will have someone investigate your claims before we give her anything.”
“Good. I’ll supply the necessary paperwork.”
Just as Wolf started to relax, Blake interjected, “That does not solve our issue with Melody Mires.”
Wolf put his hands on his hips, feeling overprotective. “What about her?”
“Sources tell us that you two are indeed involved, corroborating Alda’s story.”
Wolf was tired of keeping secrets. A hundred people must have seen him looking for her after the dance. There was no going back now. “What I do in my personal life has nothing to do with this orchestra.”
“Doesn’t it?” Blake gave Ms. Maxhammer a knowing look. “We’ll see about that.”
“Hold it.” Wolf pressed a finger to Blake’s chest, making a crinkle in the perfectly pressed fabric. “What about you and your sister? If that doesn’t reek of nepotism, then I don’t know what does.”
Blake lowered his finger and smoothed the wrinkled spot. “The competition is open to anyone. Sandra is not applying for a job; she’s entering a concerto competition.”
“Fine,” Wolf said, trying to avoid creating a scene. As much as he wanted to save her, Melody would be on her own against Sandra. She’d have to prove herself with her playing alone, but he believed she could do it without his help.
He walked to the back row and took a seat behind the jury with his heart still racing with adrenaline. The confrontation about his connection with Melody was close. He couldn’t keep their feelings for each other secret forever, but now was not the time. He didn’t want to spoil Melody’s competition. This day was about her and how she played.
He’d saved her life out in the alley, but she’d save him before too long. He had faith in her playing and her ability to make things happen. Now all he needed to do was sit and watch.
…
Melody adjusted her head joint and breathed deeply. She tried not to look at the other contestants in line, all waiting to march into the Wallsworth auditorium and play. So much rested on this one audition, the weight on her shoulders threatened to squash her right into the cracks in the linoleum floor.
Sandra played a perfect note beside her, the sound resonating through her golden flute like angels humming in heaven. Blake’s sister had a body thin as a rail and a face of all perfect edges with no softness, no depth. That’s how she played, as well. If Melody had any chance to win this, she needed to pour her heart out on stage. In terms of training, technique, and her instrument, Melody was already beat.
“Good luck,” one of the violinists offered to Sandra from across the room.
Sandra smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Thank you. But I don’t need it. I’ve been playing this concerto since I was five.”
Melody had seen the video on YouTube many times. But she couldn’t let Blake’s sister win. That would give Blake more power in the orchestra. He’d have more backing to replace Melody, and if Wolf got in the way, he’d try to replace him as well. Basically, her professional life hinged on this one performance. This was way worse than her audition for NEC.
A bead of sweat dripped down her chest. Life would be so much easier if she won. Sandra would scurry back to New York and Melody’s talents would be on display for everyone to see. They could never replace her after winning such an honor. Then, she could enact her plan to secure Wolf’s position as well. Together, they’d be in the orchestra. They may even tu
rn into dear old Mr. And Mrs. Wallsworth.
No pressure.
The back door to the auditorium opened and Blake slithered out. He gestured for his sister to join them. Out of the corner of her eye, Melody saw something she’d never seen him do before. He winked at Sandra as if she’d already won.
That small gesture sent Melody into a panic. Could Blake rig the competition? How much pull with the board did he have?
Every ounce of her body wanted to put her ear to the door to better listen to Sandra, but instead, she blocked all sound and fingered through the first movement in real time as Sandra played the exact same piece in the auditorium beside her.
The door opened once again as she held the final note under her fingers. Sandra had finished faster, which meant her version had a much quicker tempo. That didn’t help Melody’s nerves.
Neither did seeing Blake as he reentered the room with a triumphant blaze in his eyes. He flippantly gestured for her to follow him as if she were as inconsequential as a fly.
Blake didn’t speak as he guided her past the panel to the stairs of the golden-lit stage. Melody scanned the audience for Wolf, and her heart fell to her toes. He’d said he’d be there to listen. Where was he? Her knees shook as she took the steps. Something was off about the entire room.
As she climbed to the stage, Mr. Wallsworth’s white tuft of hair stuck up from the piano.
He smiled, and her nerves melted away. Melody came over to him and whispered, “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“An old-timer like me has a way of coming around now and then.” He winked at her, and unlike Blake’s wink, Mr. Wallsworth’s brought her comfort and confidence. He tapped her hand. “Let’s make some beautiful music, you and me.”
Melody nodded, and when she turned to get started, she spotted Wolf in the back of the auditorium. Her chest filled with relief and joy. He raised his hand and waved, giving her a thumbs-up. Between Wolf and Mr. Wallsworth, she felt as though she was sandwiched by people who believed in her, and she couldn’t let them down.
I can do this.
Playing the Maestro Page 14
