Chapter 26
Facing the Music
The truth about rumors
“You look wrecked, Soph.”
I can only laugh, imagining how bad I must look. When Gwen insists I stay at her place for the night, I gratefully agree. I feel at peace for the first time since our fight.
She stares at me in amazement as we flop down on her couch. “How come you never told me you were writing music?”
“I just started.”
“Okay, so how long did it take you to write that piece?”
“Two days.”
“You mean months,” she laughs.
“No, I’m being serious when I say days, G.”
She scrunches her eyebrows in disbelief.
“How is that even possible? It’s so emotional and gripping.
I was literally crying and thinking about your dad when I was listening to it.
And that beginning…those first few notes…
they grabbed my attention like “The Phantom of the Opera” does whenever I hear it. ”
I’m excited when she says that and exclaim, “I felt the same way when I wrote it!”
She sits back and stares at me oddly.
Worried, I automatically reach up to straighten the rat’s nest my hair has become.
“I don’t care about your hair, silly. I’m just…amazed you could create something like that. That song really grabs your heart and doesn’t let you go until the last note.”
I beam and then gush, “The melody came to me while I was visiting a place my dad used to take my family to.”
She tilts her head, looking surprised. “Really? What were you doing there?”
“I…just needed to get away from the mess I’ve made of my life.”
Gwen grabs my hand and squeezes it tightly.
“Maybe you just needed a different perspective. I know I needed one. After our fallout, I was so wound up that I couldn’t see straight.
So, I went on a shopping spree, thinking it would help.
But it only made me think of you, and I missed you that much more. ”
Looking back on that day at the lighthouse, I tell her, “My dad always told me that perspective helps you appreciate how truly beautiful life is. And you are the best and most beautiful thing in my life, Gwen. I’m lost without you.”
Her voice is tender when she says, “You know, you’ve never shared that about your dad before.”
I’m surprised to realize she’s right.
“What changed, Soph?”
“I guess it hurt too much to talk about him. But somehow, writing that piece of music released the heaviness of it.” I shake my head, chuckling softly. “I’m not even sure I’m making any sense.”
She reaches out to rub my arm. “All I know is you have a different aura around you now. A sense of peace…”
Tears fill my eyes, and I nod.
Letting out a long sigh, Gwen says, “About Mr. Wallace…”
I groan inwardly. I don’t want to lose this familiar connection with her, but I know this conversation needs to happen.
“While I think the man is incredibly hot, and I would totally tap that fine ass,” she continues, “I know he’s got a kid, and I don’t want anything to do with children.”
When I open my mouth to respond, she immediately stops me. “What I am trying to say here is…if you want to pursue the guy, I’m okay with it.”
I feel an overwhelming rush of guilt. “I should never have lied to you, no matter the reason.”
“Exactly,” she agrees. “So, are you two a couple?”
“No!” I answer vehemently. “But I do really like him, and after what happened with Leōn…”
She sits up, looking concerned. “What do you mean?”
I start to explain, and Gwen proceeds to demand every minute detail about that awful night at the rave. After that, she calls Leōn’s twin a load of really colorful names. “I wish I had been there! I would have—”
I interrupt her, sighing wearily. “He isn’t worth the energy, G. But he has made me wonder about Leōn.”
“Protect your heart, Soph,” she insists. “Maybe that fucking clone is lying, and maybe he’s not. Either way, you deserve a man you trust completely. If you have any doubts about Leōn, steer clear, no matter how much chemistry you have.”
I groan sadly. “I don’t trust easily, so I guess that means I’m condemned to be alone for the rest of my life.”
“That’s not true! You trust me, and I would never hurt you—unless you lie to me, of course.”
I chuckle softly. “Touché.”
When I ask Gwen what’s happened with her father since our fight, she jumps off the couch and insists that I sleep in her bed. “You look like you need the kind of rest only a good mattress can give.”
But I refuse when I see her grabbing blankets to sleep on the couch. “We can both sleep in your king-sized bed.”
“We both need good rest, and I’m not willing to put up with your snoring.”
“I don’t snore, G!” I insist.
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right.”
Oh, how I’ve missed this…
I get up at six and sneak out of her apartment so I can drive home, take a long shower, and change before my first piano lesson of the day. As soon as I walk up to my car, I notice the escort watching me from his vehicle. I give him a quick wave before jumping into my car. I feel bad for the guy.
On the drive back, I check my messages and frown when I see that all but one of my clients have canceled their lessons for today. I guess that means the word has gotten out about how Mr. Branson kissed me.
“Fuck!”
I drag myself up to my apartment, wondering how I’m going to recover from the hit to my income once my savings runs out.
No point worrying about that now…
I spend the next hour patiently combing through my tangled mass of hair. I seriously looked like Frankenstein’s bride and don’t know how Gwen was able to keep a straight face looking at me all evening—or Mr. Onassis, for that matter.
Once I’m clean and presentable again, I sit on my couch and put my audio file on repeat. I sit back and lose myself in my music, crying tears of release as I listen to it.
“Still can’t believe I wrote this,” I mutter out loud. “No matter what happens in the future, I fucking wrote this!”
My soulful reverie is interrupted when I get a notification that Anton has left me a text! But I frown when I read the one-word response.
“Sovershenstvo!”
I quickly google it and blush when I find out the Russian word means “perfection.” Coming from Anton, that means everything to me.
Minutes later, I get a knock on the door. Looking through the peephole, all I can see are flowers.
Quickly unlocking my door, I laugh when I see the giant bouquet the poor delivery woman is holding. She helps me carry it to my coffee table, and I give her a good tip for her troubles.
After shutting the door, I turn to admire the white roses, red tulips, and yellow sunflowers. Curiously, there is a single white rose in the center of the large bouquet. The rose is exceptionally beautiful, but obviously fake. I’m unsure of the meaning behind it, but I find it oddly charming.
Opening the card attached, I read:
Your music is an inspiration.
Well done, Miss Lane.
~Anton
I grin from ear to ear. His high praise fills me with unspeakable joy.
Gazing upward, I call out to my father, whose love was the inspiration behind the music. “Look what we did, Daddy!”
Despite the most recent scandal surrounding me, I walk to the townhouse of my only student for the day. I try not to fidget when his mother opens the door, but I can’t help but wonder if she’s heard about what happened yet.
“Please come in, Miss Lane,” she says in her normal, straightforward tone.
As Mrs. Bloomberg walks me to the music room, she states. “I like rumors, Miss Lane. They tell me everything I need to know about the people who spread them.”
Relief floods my system, and my voice trembles a little when I tell her, “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“Let the trash throw itself out.”
I nod, grateful for her support.
After a productive piano lesson with her son, I head to the Training Center in surprisingly good spirits with my personal escort guard tailing behind me.
I’m a little thrown, however, when I notice several hotel guests staring at me and pointing. There’s no way the rumors about me have spread all the way here, is there?
Feeling a little unsettled, I hurry to check in and head to class. Things only get stranger when I enter the room and see several of my classmates grinning at me as I sit down.
Amethyst discreetly nudges me in the side. She then pulls out her phone and whispers, “Did you see this?”
Mr. Onassis clears his throat, and she immediately puts her phone away but gives me a little grin.
I have no idea what’s going on. The only one of my classmates who isn’t acting weird is Nash, who is wearing that permanent scowl on his face.
Mr. Onassis starts off our class by asking, “How many of you are familiar with proper etiquette when attending BDSM clubs as an observer or as a participant? There are specific rules that must be followed. Although each club is different, there are basic rules everyone is expected to follow.”
I diligently start writing them down as Mr. Onassis ticks off a long list of dos and don’ts.
“It’s important to be aware that most clubs only allow people who are invited by one of the club members. Random spectators are not welcome.”
I had no idea. It makes sense, but I just assumed it was like any other kind of club.
“For those of you who are new to a BDSM club, you may come across a scene that shocks or disturbs you. If that happens, walk away. Remember that the people engaged in the scene are not there for your entertainment.
“It is crucial that you do not disturb the Dom or the sub during a scene. If you must speak while observing, do so quietly. And if you are genuinely concerned that there is an issue, contact a staff member. Never interrupt a scene unless the Dom specifically asks you for help.”
I personally can’t imagine being bold enough to bother people who are playing out a scene. To me, it’s like going to the theater. You’re only there to watch, not to participate.
“For safety reasons, it is important that you stay a proper distance away from each scene. Trust me, you do not want to find yourself in the path of a bullwhip.”
I chuckle to myself, wondering if I might like it.
“Did you find something I said humorous, Miss Lane?”
I shake my head and look down at my notebook.
“Once the scene is over, no matter how much you’ve enjoyed it, be respectful and leave the couple alone until they have moved to a social area where you can talk freely.
On that same subject, it is fine to compliment a Dom if you have enjoyed a particular scene.
However, you are not allowed to talk to or touch any sub without permission from the Dominant in charge. ”
I feel encouraged by that rule. I can’t imagine being brave enough to do a public scene, only to have a strange guy who is turned on after watching me come up and start talking to me. Gross!
“Although this should go without saying, drugs and alcohol are not allowed for anyone participating in a scene.” Mr. Onassis states this in a somber tone. “Both are unnecessary and dangerous in this kind of environment.”
I’m surprised when Dono Marcelo walks into the room. “I apologize for the interruption, but I need Mr. Nash and Miss Lane to come with me.”
Mr. Onassis nods to him. “That’s fine. I just completed the core lesson.”
I hope he’s come to address Nash about my slashed tires as I get up from the table. It’s about time he answers for what he’s done.