So This is Love (Miami Stories Book 1)

by Brooke St. James

  I couldn't help but look. I knew that glancing in that direction would force me to inadvertently catch a glimpse of Marilyn Monroe, and I was right. I saw the couple, bowing and thanking the crowd for the applause, and sure enough, I saw the blonde sitting at the table next to them. Everyone else at her table was smiling at the couple of honor, but the blonde was just staring at the centerpiece of her table, looking lost in thought and not very happy. She wasn't simply spacing out, she was clearly upset. She stared at the center of the table, wearing a look of disgust and biting the inside of her cheek. Maybe it shouldn't have thrilled me to witness someone else's unhappiness, but I was only human, and she had intentionally hurt me. Still, I hated taking pleasure in her discomfort. I looked away.

  The emcee had just finished saying something about the silent auction when I looked at the stage again. He smiled as if about to announce something big. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment we've all been waiting for! Please help me welcome our special guest… someone whose music has been in some of our favorite movies and television shows. Someone who has played for the President, and the Queen of England… just not at the same time," he added, drawing a laugh from the crowd. "The Grammy Award winner and one of the most highly distinguished cellist of our generation… Please put your hands together for Mister Ashley Winters!"

  Everyone cheered. Just the sound of it brought tears to my eyes. I was on the verge of crying, anyway, with the way he had been introduced, but hearing everyone clap caused my eyes to sting and water. I was bursting with pride. My palms were sweating and I was tingling all over. I was so nervous for Ash that I could barely breathe.

  Then I saw him. He walked out onto the stage by himself, smiling and waving at the crowd as he crossed to the spot where the emcee was standing. They shook hands and said something to each other that none of us could hear before Ash stepped behind the microphone.

  "Thank you very much," he said, bowing graciously. He was so full of confidence that I found myself relaxing a little bit. "It's an honor to be here tonight," he continued. "I truly do believe in the mission of St. Jude, and I know you've all made a good choice in showing your support to this fine organization tonight." (A short round of applause happened, and Ash took a second to nod before continuing.) "My first piece will be unaccompanied," he said. "The talented Becky Morrison will join me on piano for the second and third pieces, and then we'll finish the concert with the also very talented Andre Wells on violin and Manny Lopez on bass. The songs we're playing tonight can all be heard again next week at our season opener—all but the first one. It's one of my originals, and you're hearing the premier of it tonight. It's called My Darling Abigail, and if the title didn't give it away, I'll tell you that I wrote it for someone I love." He smiled and looked directly at me. "Hope you enjoy."

  My heart nearly exploded. I really thought it might burst. Claudia must have known I was in danger of going into cardiac arrest because she reached over and held my hand. I squeezed her hand tightly but didn't take my eyes off of the stage. Everyone clapped and whistled as Ash left the microphone and made his way to the cello.

  The clapping got quiet, and everyone watched as he sat in his chair and placed his cello in front of him, adjusting his clothes and making small tweaks on the position of the instrument.

  I could not breathe.

  He seemed so comfortable and confident in spite of the fact that literally every eye in the room was on him.

  I saw a flash of movement on my right, and I glanced that way to find that the woman in the red dress was walking out of the room, her clutch and her gift bag in hand. She didn't walk out the door that led to the restroom, she went toward the one that led to the exit.

  At first, I thought that she was possibly trying to gain Ash's attention by storming out, but then I realized I was glad she was leaving. Happiness about her departure overrode whatever jealous or negative feelings I was having.

  I had only been looking at her for a few seconds before I turned to look at Ash again. He was looking at me from the stage. He was holding his bow and was poised to begin playing, but he didn't start until our eyes met. He gave me a slight smile as if saying, "Okay, now that you're watching, I'll begin," before taking a deep breath and focusing his instrument.

  Chapter 18

  That first note was absolutely haunting.

  Stunning.

  Magnificent.

  Ash drew the bow across the strings, causing a long, deep, loud, beautiful sound to reverberate out of the gorgeous wooden work of art. It made my chest vibrate.

  Then, he began working his fingers on the strings as the bow slid back and forth, causing a serene, peaceful sequence of notes to fill the air. I knew what a cello sounded like, and I had seen Ash sit behind one before, but I was not expecting the overwhelming emotions I felt when seeing him sit there and truly work that instrument.

  His eyes were closed as he felt his way deftly across the front of the cello. He had told me before that the cello was part of him, but as I watched him, I could appreciate that in a whole new way.

  Every note he hit was perfect—perfect in its length and its volume. The song itself, along with the vision of the man performing it, was an absolute masterpiece. What truly overwhelmed me was that it was my song. One he had written for me. It sounded dreamy, like fish swimming and French kissing. The soft push-and-pull rhythm of it with the low, vibrating notes were just too much for me to handle.

  There was absolutely nothing I could do to hold back the tears. I watched Ash wide-eyed and unblinking as huge tears rolled effortlessly down my cheeks. I was relatively sure they were landing on my dress, but I didn't care. I didn't care about my makeup, either. My eyes and my mind were completely fixed on Ash.

  The piece was only about three minutes long, but it might as well have lasted a lifetime. I was lost in it and I was relatively sure I would never make my way out. I didn't want to come out.

  I already loved Ash, and now I saw this, his best trick, his best talent, the thing everyone else loved about him. He was doing it right in front of me in a full, glorious display.

  Everyone clapped after Ash played the final note and paused, dropping the bow and smiling at the audience with a slight nod.

  Becky was in the middle of crossing the stage, headed toward her piano when Ash looked at me. The crowd's applause was still happening, and I realized I wasn't cheering with them when he glanced my way. Claudia had been holding my hand, and I didn't even realize that she let go, leaving me sitting there empty handed and completely stunned.

  I had to do something to let him know I loved it, so I did what came naturally. I brought my hands to my chest, covering my heart and hopefully indicating to him that I was his. He gave me a smile when he saw me do that, and then he turned to glance at Becky who was now seated and ready to play.

  They nodded at each other, and Ash again brought the bow to the cello and began playing. Claudia reached for my hand again, but this time, she handed me a tissue. I smiled at her when I realized what she was doing, and she gave me a wink.

  Absentmindedly, I cleaned myself up wiping at my cheeks to dry them as I continued to watch Ash and Becky play. I understood why he was able to travel the world and draw audiences. He was so compelling to watch that no one in the room spoke or even turned away from the stage. Becky was brilliant as well. And some time later, when they finally came on stage, I realized that Andre and Manny were too. I believe they played for about an hour, but I only knew that because Ash had mentioned it to me before. I completely lost track of time as I sat there, watching them—watching Ash.

  Ash was an amazing person. I had grown to truly appreciate that as I got to know him during the last month. I really did love him for his kind spirit, his fierce determination, and his quick wit. The pure beauty of what Ash was on the inside was wonderful and obviously the most important thing to me, but I would be lying if I said I didn't appreciate his face and his body. I was utterly taken by him both physically and emotionally.


  And now this.

  Now, I sat in awe, witnessing this amazing thing he can do with his instrument. How much more could I love him? I already felt as if I might explode with it.

  The musicians got a standing ovation. They bowed and gestured at one another as if to indicate mutual respect, and then Ash took a second bow by himself. The applause grew louder when he did that. Even the other three musicians joined in, clapping for him from right next to him on the stage.

  The emcee came to the microphone, exclaiming what a wonderful performance that had been. He continued saying something about the symphony's upcoming season opener, but I tuned him out because Claudia got my attention with a hand on my leg.

  "Wasn't that so sweet?" she said.

  "It was amazing," I said. "They were so good."

  "Manny said that first song was a late addition," she said. "Ashley came to them at rehearsal last week, saying he wanted to play that piece before Becky came out."

  I put a hand to my chest, and shook my head. "I felt like I was about to have a heart attack when he said the name of it."

  "Somebody's in looove," Jim Morrison added from the other side of me, leaning over his wife's empty chair to pat me on the back.

  I smiled at him. "I think it's me," I said with an exaggerated worried expression that caused Jim to crack up and give me another hearty pat on the back.

  "Becky said he only wrote that piece about a month ago!" Jim said, looking impressed and mostly talking to Claudia.

  She shook her head like she couldn’t believe it, and then she glanced at me. "How long have you been seeing Ash?" she asked.

  I hesitated, feeling like I wanted to say something like, "My whole life," but knowing there was nothing for me to say besides the truth. "About a month," I said.

  Jim shook his head, looking amazed. "You met him after he came here to Miami?" he asked. We had mentioned that during our conversation earlier, but he obviously hadn't picked up on it. I nodded.

  "He must have really been swept off his feet," Jim said.

  "And how," Claudia agreed. She touched my hand, causing me to glance at her. "It was a beautiful piece," she said sincerely.

  It was beautiful. I was so overcome with nerves and emotion that it was difficult for me to remember what it sounded like, but I did know that it was beautiful.

  Within minutes, Ash and the other musicians met us at the table. What followed was a few more minutes of announcements and then an hour of chaos. There was so much talking and hand shaking, that by the end of it, I hardly knew which way was up. Everyone wanted to congratulate Ash on being awesome. Quite a few of them were anxious to meet me just to see who it was that had inspired him to write that first piece.

  Jana and Bill came up to us, and Jana said she was so moved during that first piece that she had cried. Jim Morrison was standing nearby when she made that comment, and he told everyone about me crying my eyes out the whole time, which made Ash pull me into his arms.

  The whole evening was a big whirlwind, and before I knew it, Ash and I were in his SUV on the way home. I didn't have my car, but neither of us wanted to part ways, so he dropped me off at my place with the intention that I would run in, change, and then meet him at his house. He asked if I wanted him to wait so that he could follow me, but I told him I was fine driving alone and that I would meet him there.

  My face hurt from smiling so much—maybe it was from crying, too. I just felt an ache in my face in general and knew it was from so much emotion. I was walking on air, though, and no aches could diminish that feeling.

  Ash and I had talked on the trip from the venue to my house, but I thought maybe I hadn't done a good enough job of telling him what I was feeling. I thanked him for the song, and told him how beautiful it was, but I was still so numb from the evening's events that I didn't think I had done an adequate enough job of explaining how very much it meant to me.

  "When'd you get here?" Kristen asked, knocking and peeking into my room through a crack in the door. "I thought you'd be home late."

  "I am. I will be," I said. "Ash just dropped me off so I could change and get my car. We're gonna hang out a little more. I'm going over to his place."

  "How'd it go tonight?" she asked.

  I turned to stare at her, letting out a long sigh as I let my shoulders slump. "I don't even know if I could say words right now that would do it justice."

  "That good?" she said with wide eyes. "What happened? Did they have an ice sculpture of you in the middle of the dance floor or something?"

  "No," I said laughing a little. "No ice sculptures. No dance floor, either, for that matter."

  "What then?" she asked. "Are you just talking about his playing, because I already knew he was a genius."

  "He wrote a piece for me, and he played it. I had no idea."

  Her jaw dropped. "The whole orchestra played a song for you… in front of everybody?"

  I shook my head. "It was a quartet tonight, but he played it by himself. It was the only one he did unaccompanied."

  "Oh, my gosh. How'd you know it was for you?" she asked.

  "He said it," I said. "He told everyone the name of it before he played it."

  She stood there, looking at me like she was waiting for me to say the name, and when I didn't she said, "And the name of it was…"

  "My Darling Abigail," I said, feeling suddenly shy.

  Kristen grinned and pushed at my shoulder as if I was surely joking. "You're kidding, right?"

  I shook my head.

  Her jaw dropped again. "Why did he do that? What did you say? What did it sound like? I hope somebody recorded it. Did you get it on your phone?"

  I giggled at the way she fired off questions. "Nooo," I said regretfully, answering her last question. "And I'm so mad at myself. I should have recorded it."

  "Ashley Winters wrote you a piece, named it My Darling Abigail, and performed it in front of everybody?" she asked the question with narrowed eyes and a skeptical expression like it couldn't possibly be true.

  I nodded. "I swear."

  "Why didn't I go to this?" she asked. "Is he gonna play it with the symphony?"

  "I don't know," I said. "I think it was a last-minute thing for him to play it tonight." I turned, positioning my back in front of Kristin. "Can you please unzip me?"

  Kristen stayed still, saying nothing for a few seconds. I expected to feel her fingers on my neck as she reached for the zipper, but I felt nothing.

  Finally, I turned to look at her.

  "No," she said.

  "No, what?" I asked. "Are you gonna make me shimmy out of this thing by myself.

  "No, you don't need to get out of it," she said, shaking her head with a serious expression. "You're so beautiful in this, and the night's still young. How often are you gonna be able to wear it? Not often enough. Even when you go to his shows at the Knight, you won't be this dressed up. You should keep it on. Let him see you in it a little more."

  "Really?" I asked, glancing down. The bodice was skin tight, but it was made of material that had a little give to it. I breathed in, testing the comfort. "It is pretty comfortable," I said.

  "Yes, and you're gorgeous in it," she said. "Leave it on. He'll be happy."

  "He's probably already gonna be in sweats by the time I get there," I said.

  She shrugged. "So, take some jeans," she said. "I just think you should wear this bad boy as long as you can. Especially in light of recent events with the song."

  I put my hands over my chest. "It was really wonderful," I said.

  "Did that seriously happen?" she asked.

  "I promise."

  "What are you waiting for?" Kristen leaned over and smacked me on the rear-end hard enough to make me yelp.

  I already had a change of clothes laid out on the bed I laughed as I picked them up, threw them in the bag I had laying on my dresser, and headed for the door.

  I was happy Kristen talked me into wearing the dress. I felt pretty in it, and she was right, I p
robably wouldn't wear it again for a long time… if ever.

  I was smiling and feeling a rush of anticipation as I knocked on Ash's door fifteen minutes later. I expected him to have changed, but he hadn't. I gawked at him as he stood in the doorway, peering back at me with a slightly dangerous expression. He had taken off his jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt. He still had on his vest, though.

  He was so handsome that I didn't know what to say. I was at a loss for words. He was in the process of casually rolling up his sleeves, and I just stood there and watched as he finished. There was just no way he could possibly look sharper than he did now in that all-black, perfectly tailored tux. He scanned me from head to toe, a serious, almost hungry look on his face.

  "I thought you were going to change," he said.

  "I thought you were, too," I said.

  He grinned. "I just got here two minutes ago, and I had to carry my cello in."

  Ash stepped back, and I walked across the threshold and into the house. "I brought some jeans," I said. "But Kristen said I should leave this on for a while since I never get to wear stuff like this."

  "I knew I liked Kristen," Ash said.

  I hung my bag on the coatrack in the entryway. "What?" I asked pretending to be shy. "You like my dress or something?" I twirled around in it. I loved how the layers of flowy fabric swirled and moved around me as I turned. I never wore anything like this, and it was fun.

  Ash stepped forward, catching me in mid-twirl. I stared up at him, and he peered down at me with those golden, mysterious cat eyes. His handsome face was only inches from mine. "I don't think you understand how much I love this dress," he said.

  Chapter 19

  Ash gave me a quick kiss before pulling me with him into the kitchen.