Unfinished Sympathy (Absolution Book 1)

by Amélie S. Duncan

  I needed to let Paul go.

  Far from being upset, Gunnar broke into applause.

  “There’s the fire,” he said and grinned broadly. “Good. You need to use it more.”

  I groaned loudly. Does anything get rid of this guy?

  “Now, I’ll let you in on what I heard,” he said. “You need a job that can pay you. I have files from my old firm that have to go paperless, so I’m looking for someone to scan them. It’s boring as hell, but it’ll help in a jam.”

  “You shouldn’t be eavesdropping,” I scolded him.

  “I shouldn’t, but I see I pegged you all wrong,” he said. “The job is yours. And give me the repairman’s number. I’ll get you a better deal.”

  I lifted my chin. “No, thanks. I’ll negotiate myself. The job offer is more than enough. Can I start tonight?”

  He stared at me hard and long, until I frowned at him. “Tomorrow is fine,” he said. He wrote down an address not too far from the building.

  “Thank you,” I muttered.

  “You won’t be, once you see it,” he said. “Now about that lunch?”

  I groaned again to cover my smile. “Absolutely not.”

  “Yo, Aubrey!” Daniel poked his head into my office then zeroed in on Gunnar. “Oh, cool, you’re in here. You ready to go for the one-on-one?”

  I snorted, and my temper rose again in full force. Daniel had just arrived at work and would already leave to have fun and play basketball.

  “Not yet. I’m still chatting with Aubrey,” Gunnar said over his shoulder, his eyes fixed on me. “Close the door and give me a sec.”

  No surprise, Daniel followed Gunnar’s orders.

  “Daniel gets it,” Gunnar said, and propped up his sneakers on the edge of my desk. “Just doing the work won’t help you get ahead. You need to socialize too.”

  I glared at him. “It doesn’t matter to you or Paul that Daniel doesn’t work, or turns in half-done disasters? Why don’t you tell him to do his job?”

  “Why should Daniel bother, when you’re always ready to pick up the slack?” Gunnar asked with his brows raised.

  My mouth opened, then closed. I did do all his work, didn’t I? I blew out my breath. “Work has to get done, or we’d lose the contract and I’d lose my job.”

  Gunnar appeared nonplussed at the possibility of my unemployment, and that had me more determined for him to leave.

  The door swung open again, and Paul walked in. His piercing blue-green gaze scanned me before narrowing at Gunnar.

  “What are you doing in here?” he asked coolly. His scowl didn’t erase how incredibly gorgeous he appeared in his dark blue suit. The scruff on his jaw was a little more Cooper than Keanu today, though just as yummy. It was hard not to get swept up in his hotness and how much I wanted him. However, I reminded myself that the real Paul saw me as a liability.

  “I was just telling Ms. Irving that she should socialize more, and only do her work, rather than doing someone else’s as well as her own,” Gunnar said, interrupting my thoughts. “I’m going now. We can start with lunch as soon as you’re ready.”

  I glowered at him. “Schedule that for never.”

  Paul’s face turned hard, and his gaze narrowing at Gunnar. “Leave. Now.”

  “I’ll let you both cool off,” Gunnar said, pausing at the door. “I’ve got my one-on-one with Daniel. Yes, Paul. Daniel is still ready to play basketball with me this morning. Aubrey here will do whatever needs doing for both of them.”

  He finally left.

  “What Gunnar said is important,” Paul said, taking the empty seat. “He’s a pain, but he’s observant. I believe you can learn a lesson from him.”

  My eyes narrowed. “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not,” he said and folded his hands on my desk. “From here on out, you’re only allowed to do whatever I assign you. You’re no longer permitted to fix or correct the work assigned to Daniel.”

  “But then the work would fall behind, and we’d lose our contract,” I pointed out. “I’d end up without a job. I can’t lose this job and the benefits.”

  “Will you lose it?” Paul asked, and paused to let his words sink in. “I could intervene, but that will not help you all the time. Gunnar is right. Daniel is on track to get the job offer. Hell, they gave it to him before I intervened, and they had to reconsider.”

  I seethed. This was what I’d thought all along. “I know, but they told me I had a chance….”

  He smiled sympathetically. “Yes, and you’re working hard. I’ve heard my audio supervisors argue over who they want to work with when it comes down to getting the job done. I’ve made them reassign work to Daniel instead of only using him in the artist sessions. He’s terrible at audio, but he is social and likable. He puts them and the artist at ease. While you did all your work and more, he’s the one I hear fond things about. In the months ahead, this will only grow. I’ve seen it before.”

  I’d experienced the same at Emono. Quinn hadn’t left me alone until I’d warmed up to him and Kyle, but they were still the only people I talked to.

  I hunched my shoulders. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Success takes strength and perseverance,” Paul said. “I fail, but you don’t hear about it much because I come back harder. You want to stand out and get ahead, stand up for yourself and demand respect. Like you do with Gunnar.”

  “That’s easy to say when you have a safety net,” I said, crossing my arms.

  “I’ll admit it is,” Paul replied. “But if you think by working hard Emono will promote you, you’re mistaken. You decide your worth and let that guide you.”

  My head swam with what he’d said. It was hard to accept that it could all lead to nothing. “I don’t know what to do,” I repeated, just as my phone buzzed. I saw it was Ryan calling me back to Emono again.

  “I’ve placed you on my schedule to play the violin with me today,” Paul said firmly. “I’m not allowing any reschedules. You must decide.”

  I took a deep breath and answered the call. “Yes?”

  “Didn’t you get my message to come to Emono?” Ryan said. “Pack up and come on over.”

  “I’m not going,” I said, my pulse pounding. “I’ve got work here they can’t reschedule. You can try Daniel.”

  “Daniel’s working,” Ryan replied. “I’m sure you don’t want the project to fall behind on the game. I’ve already told Logan, and he’s expecting you. He’s impressed by the fact you’ve been the one to rely on. It’s a factor that’s being included in our discussions about the permanent job.”

  My stomach muscles twisted. Ryan had changed his modus operandi. He was telling me what I wanted to hear so I did more than my job.

  I glanced at Paul, meeting his compassionate look. He’d told me straight. The permanent job was going to Daniel, even if I did everything. Unless I didn’t.

  “Sorry, I can’t,” I said. “I’ve completed and checked the work assigned. Daniel has work outstanding. He should go over.”

  He coughed, letting me know I’d thrown him off his game. “I already told you I’m not asking Daniel to come here. I’ll speak with Logan and Yasmine about you not doing what I’ve told you to do.”

  I hesitated. Yasmine, who knows I need money now… But then, what would happen if I messed up my contract with Paul? It was a Catch-22; I’d lose my job, anyway.

  “Please remind them when you do about my new position here,” I said, lowering my voice. “I’m submitting a written statement to add to my file. I discussed my work obligations here and informed you that Daniel was available, but you refused to request him. I’ll also report to HR about his basketball time and two-hour lunch and provide a report on all the work I’ve done this month. I must go now.”

  “You’re making a huge mistake,” Ryan managed to say before I hung up.

  I trembled hard in my seat. “Oh my God…”

  Paul came around the desk, picked up my hands and squeezed them. My nerves jolted at h
is touch.

  “That was good,” he said. “You were clear and to the point. He’ll have to think his next move through.”

  “Like firing me. I don’t know how I expected you to understand,” I muttered, and sighed. I couldn’t risk getting fired. Besides the water heater my family needed, I’d lose everything I had. Crane Productions couldn’t hire me if I left Emono now because they had a business partnership. We had a no-poaching agreement in every contract that stated clients couldn’t solicit or hire anyone at our company. It was standard practice—besides my not having done enough to earn a position at Crane either, being only on my third week.

  “I do, more than you know, and I will call Gary and reiterate how disruptive I find Ryan’s request for you to work there when we agreed to have you here,” he said resolutely.

  “No.” I reluctantly removed my hands from his. “I’m not using you as a shield. It’ll make it seem like you prefer me.”

  “If I can help you, I will. And if it makes you feel better, I’m displeased with Emono’s interruptions of your work here. I’ve reached the end of my tolerance about it. I’m impressed by your professionalism and control. You deserve better, make sure you get it.”

  I admired the strength of his convictions. The insanely hot way his jaw set when he was frustrated struck me. This time he was championing his belief in me. His support warmed me inside and forced me to meet his eyes. Despite all his power, there was a softness in his gaze that made my chest flutter.

  His stare followed my tongue as I licked my lips. “Thank you,” I whispered, not wanting to disturb the gentleness he had shown me.

  He leaned close to me and brushed back the strands of hair falling out of my bun. “I never wanted to hurt you, Aubrey,” he said. “I’m the reason for these precautions. Gunnar took them because he knows me and my interest in you. Hell, I accepted Gunnar and Emono’s ridiculous terms just to keep myself from overstepping boundaries with you. It’s my fascination, not yours, that is a problem to control.”

  My pulse raced as I also leaned forward. Our gazes fused, and like always, Paul hadn’t missed a thing. His hand rose to my face again, and I sucked in a breath as his fingers stroked my cheek.

  The door opened. Gunnar again. His eyes shifted between us and he frowned.

  “Why are you back?” Paul asked.

  “Daniel had to cancel,” Gunnar said. “He had to head back to Emono.”

  I smiled wickedly. “Oh, did he?”

  Gunnar laughed. “We can go over contracts,” he told Paul.

  Paul glared at him, walking to the door. “On my way.” He turned back, our eyes met again, and I melted. “I moved up our time to three p.m.”

  I couldn’t wait.

  Aubrey

  Gunnar eavesdropping on my phone calls made me trust him less. However, his temp job made it possible to help my family with the water heater repair. He saved me from doing something I didn’t want to do for money, though even with both jobs I wouldn’t be out of a financial crisis. The water heater would wipe out the little emergency savings I had put away in case I lost my job and meant I was operating without a safety net.

  That, in turn, meant I couldn’t leave Emono. I had to survive to the end of Absolution and get the big bonus, or my family and I would lose all we had left.

  With that in mind, I worked diligently with Mike on the recording session with a new artist singing a previously released Crane Productions song for the game soundtrack. I didn’t just help him with the sound, playback, and mixing, but also asked Mike about himself. I even added more complimentary feedback to the artist. All the time, I remembered how Paul and Gunnar pointed out that social relations might keep me from progressing in my career.

  I learned Mike had worked on blockbuster sci-fi films. He delighted in my enthusiasm and offered to show me some rare recordings and a membership to an audio club he had online. To add to my winning streak, Daniel couldn’t bounce back his work. Best day ever, and the best was yet to come. Paul and I were going to play music together. I left to meet him right after the session ended.

  Paul had reserved a larger recording studio, one housing the most instruments, including the baby grand piano he occupied when I walked into the room. He played as his staff positioned microphones for recording. In his ice-blue T-shirt, jeans, and athletic shoes, he appeared more casual. Though he was busy, he still sent me a heart-stopping smile that made me forget everything. The Testore violin was on a stand next to him, with sheet music for me to look through, and I immediately put down my things to walk over to it. My excitement at developing a music score had me eager to play.

  But before I could, Paul said, “I’ve been looking forward to hearing from you all day. After you warm up, I’d like to hear you play Ysaÿe Sonata No. 3 Ballade.”

  My stomach pitched. His request had been unexpected, and my guard wasn’t up. This was definitely not how I’d imagined our playing would go today.

  I slowly warmed up but waited until we were alone before lodging my complaint. “I’d prefer not to play the Ysaÿe. It’s the one I messed up when we played together in your loft weeks ago. It’s personal.”

  “How so?” he asked, his tone gentle. “Talk to me.”

  While I didn’t want to tell him, the truth was the only way for him to understand the depth of my emotional connection to the piece. “It was my father’s favorite. When I play it, I think of him, and now that he’s gone it hurts to do it.” My voice was strained.

  “I won’t force you, but I didn’t think you messed up on the song,” he replied. “Your performance was the reason I took the project at Emono and the opportunity to play again with you. I identified with the pain and sorrow, and I know anyone that hears it will be moved emotionally. It’s what I want to take into the song we started. What will, I hope, become Absolution, the title track for the game.”

  I took a few moments to collect myself. I couldn’t believe how Paul had raised the stakes. The opportunity to perform on his track was impossible to pass by. He wasn’t forcing me, but the offer was as persuasive as if he had. I was going nowhere. I had to play the song.

  “What do you think about when you think of your game, Absolution?” he asked.

  “Forgiveness,” I answered. “When I first thought of the project, I thought of Sigfried Sasson’s poem, ‘Absolution.’ The struggles and pains of war, from deployment to resolution. The feelings of the soldiers. How difficult it must be.”

  “I need you to connect to that feeling,” he said. “I understand that it’s difficult, but some of the best music comes from our hearts. You can start and restart as many times as you need, and I’m here to support you. You’re not alone.”

  I glanced at him and instantly connected with the concern on his face. It was strong, as was the pull inside of me to conform to his will. We both knew I would play it. So, without another word, I put the violin in the position to start.

  Playing the Ysaÿe was like warming up an iced-over window. The side I had hidden shone through and I was back inside my violinist life. I was back with my dad, who had been my biggest fan. He’d believed that I’d excel when no one else had. He’d driven through the snow in our family car for competitions. He’d hum and drum on the steering wheel to Eric Clapton’s Promises. At the end of every recital, he was the first on his feet to applaud. My heart was wide open to him.

  Dad made me warm, gave me love, and made me believe that the impossible was possible.

  Then came his sudden death and the upending of my world. The way I fell apart as my mom and sister struggled to cope. Had I forgiven him? I didn’t want to think about it, but everything in our lives was vulnerable in the song. I don’t know when I’d stopped playing it. I only knew that I was playing it with Paul. He had joined me and now leading us right into the song he’d created, which was becoming Absolution.

  Once again, I was enraptured by his exceptional skill and genius. While there was the deep emotion coming through our joint composition, his play
ing lifted mine from my melancholy.

  I peered over at him as my fingers and hands worked the Testore. His eyes were already on me—and it was easy to get swept away in them. His stare was so stimulating it sent a tremor down to my core. My heart thudded as I tried to ignore the sudden ache in my limbs from blood surging in my veins.

  We played on, but between us the air had electrified. He took me beyond the darkness that covered my life and right over into his light. Undoubtedly, nothing was better than playing with him, and I wished it would never end, but we reached as far as we could go with the song. We had no choice but to stop. When we did, Paul turned around on his bench.

  “Come over here,” he said. Joy radiated from him and further lifted me. I put down the violin and obeyed, and he clasped my hands. The spark that came when we touched flared.

  “You’re absolutely amazing. I can’t get enough of you,” he enthused. “Are you as blown away as I am by the song?”

  “It’s… wow. I can’t believe how it’s coming together,” I said. I was practically giddy before him.

  “It’s because we’re in sync,” he said with conviction. “It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, something amazing can happen with the music. But this kind of musical synergy needs action. I’d like to play on for a while longer, unless you have plans?”

  There wasn’t any other answer but yes.

  “I don’t. I’d love to stay and play,” I said, and added a few nods for further emphasis.

  “You impress me every day,” he said, meaning it.

  We quietly stared at each other, not moving, as if transporting ourselves back to my office, when we had been close together, where nothing else had existed but him and me.

  He took more of my face in his hands this time, cupping and caressing the sides with his thumbs. My eyelids fluttered, and I sucked in air as my breath became uneven. Nothing felt better than Paul’s touch.