Chapter 22 #3
I roll my eyes while fighting my grin. I hate how easily the man can make me smile. Even at his childish antics. “You’re making me late, Fritz.”
“Then let’s go, Fairchild. I’d hate for you to be late on account of my dick and its kink.”
* * *
Six hours later, my concern over vomiting hasn’t abated.
Luca dropped me off and true to his word, he didn’t utter a peep in the car, though I could see him struggling with that.
Any chance he could get away with it, his eyes were on me.
He drove me, dropped me off in front, and helped me get my cello out of his trunk. I thanked him, and that was it.
The man makes me feel like an exposed wire near water—charged and ready to electrocute anyone who comes within touching distance.
But right now, I have much greater concerns than him.
I’m beyond exhausted. My back hurts. My nerves are frazzled.
And I know what’s coming next as I’m being called into Antonio’s office.
The last person here to learn their solo fate.
Antonio had us play through the entire holiday arrangement and then one by one brought us into his office. We’re talking a hundred people.
Quill saunters past me, giving me a sympathetic look. “Do you want me to stay?” she asks.
I shake my head, letting her know I’ve got this. “No. Get on home to your husband.”
She smirks cheekily. “We are anyway. See you back there.” I get a wink and I reach out and grab her shoulder, letting her know how grateful I am. After the flowers, my relationship and trust with them have soared.
I knock on the office door and immediately Antonio’s thick Italian lilt rings out with, “Come in.”
Sucking in a breath, I open the door and walk in, taking a seat when Antonio gestures toward the chair.
His face is stuck on music sheets that I doubt he’s reading because…
why would he? That’s simply a bit weird.
But whatever. He’s wearing his glasses and doing this all-empowered thing, so I wait him out.
Finally, he puts them down and leans back in his large leather chair, appraising me. “You are exquisite, my Raven. Every time I listen to you play, it is as if the music is making love to me.”
And what on earth do I say to that?
“Thank you.”
“You came to us with the highest recommendation from the most prestigious music conservatory in the world. I gave you your solo for the charity concerts and you did not disappoint.”
“Thank you.” And now I feel like a broken record as I sit in this chair, spine straight, hands held tightly in my lap, eyes on him.
“ Mia bella , I would like you to take first chair, as well as two solo performances in the holiday concert.”
And now I’ve lost my breath as I stare incredulously at him. Two solos? I’m a half-beat from passing out. “You would? Two solos?”
He chuckles as if this should have been a foregone conclusion. “ Ma certo . Of course,” he translates. “You are the star of this symphony, no?”
“There are many talented performers.”
“Ah. Yes. But none of them are you. You are the brightest star in the night sky. I also happen to know of several large donations that have been made in your honor.”
The Fritzes. The most generous human beings in the world. It warms my heart how supportive and loving they are, but… I hate that Antonio knows about it. I don’t know what to say, so instead I just sit here. I’ve already said thank you enough and it feels as though he’s leading up to more.
“You will do two minutes in Fantasia on Christmas Carols and three minutes in O Holy Night.”
Two solos. Five minutes. I shift in my seat, uncrossing and recrossing my legs. “Thank you.” I inwardly cringe at my incessant repetition.
He chuckles lightly, taking his glasses off and tossing them onto his messy desk. “You are in love? No?”
“What?” I sputter out, totally taken aback by the change in course.
He shrugs dispassionately. “When I interviewed you for this position, you had told me you were single.”
“Yes.” At the time, it was a totally inappropriate question, same as this conversation.
“But then I find you with a man on your opening night. The same man I saw you with at the bar the very same night. Is he behind your mystery flowers?”
“Antonio…” My voice dies off.
I have no idea what to say. I do not want to sleep with him, and I do not want to give him the wrong impression. Nor do I want to earn something I do not deserve simply because he wants to fuck me. Or because I bring in donation money from a prominent wealthy family.
“I am single, but truly, I don’t see how my personal life is pertinent to my work here.”
“It was Luca Fritz, yes?” he continues as if I didn’t say a word. “I recognized him. Impossible not to.”
Clearly, the man is not taking the hint.
“Luca is an old family friend as are all of the Fritzes. I know their weight in this city and I know their wealth. But I do not want to be considered for something I have not earned.”
He gives me a satisfied grin. “Nor I. My father was a famous conductor in Italy. It took me many moons to climb out of his shadow. No matter. I offer you this anyway because your playing gives anyone who hears it chills. Magnifico . Your talent has us all shining like stars.” He sits up, pushing himself in closer to his desk and setting his hands over his discarded music sheets.
“But, mia bella , should you ever find yourself in a place where you are single once more, I would love to take you to my bed where we can make music of our own.”
Wow. That’s… insanely cheesy and a little creepy and yup. “I will keep that in mind.”
He nods, grinning at me as if he’s so pleased with himself. “We discuss your solos more on Sunday. Special practice at ten.”
“I’ll be here.”
“Good night then, Raven.”
“Good night, Antonio.”
Rocked to my core in too many ways, I exit his office, falling against the wall and trying to catch my breath. Two solos. Not one. Two! I can do this, though. I can. I know I can. I conquered my anxiety once. I can do it again. Time to make this thing my bitch.