Chapter 13 #2
Shaking my head, I groaned and buried my face in the magazine.
Now, I was just trying to justify things.
She had every right to cut me off if she wanted to.
Every right to retaliate how she had with that cheerleader.
I was being a horrible person, and I was fully aware of that.
Once had been an honest mistake, but now things were spiraling out of my control, and I wasn’t doing everything I could to get off this ride. No, in fact, I was fueling the fire.
“There are no good options left,” that same male voice I’d heard earlier gasped behind me, pulling me out of my thoughts. Man, if that wasn’t the conundrum I was fighting myself right now…
“The online live audition is in fifteen minutes, and the pianist backed out. If she wants a chance to be in the New York Philharmonic Orchestra, then we have to find a way,” the panicked lady responded.
I tipped my head. My interest piqued in their flustered conversation.
“But without a pianist? This is Duvaldi’s Concerto in C Sharp Minor, not exactly the easiest composition for any random pianist that might be available. And emphasis on might,” the man replied, frenzied.
The footsteps paused behind me, and the woman spoke again. “The hardest part is the solo, which is why it needs to be that piece, so we have to try something. She’s worked her entire life and was offered—”
“Excuse me,” I said, placing the magazine beside me. “I don’t mean to intrude, but I overheard your dilemma.” Where the hell was all this boldness coming from, though? And the secret. If these guys found out about that specific one…
But maybe this was the very distraction I needed from my current secret.
Standing up, I turned around and politely smiled at the wiry man with thin, brown hair and half-moon spectacles resting on his beak-like nose.
The woman was plump and well put together, her blonde hair piled high on her head. She crossed her arms; the pearls strapped around her neck matched the bracelet on her wrist. It all paired nicely with her sea-green dress and white heels. “And?” She lifted a brow.
“I happen to be a pianist and know that piece. I’m waiting on studio three to open up, so some extra playing time would be nice.
” I smoothed out a few wrinkles in my blouse.
Surprising myself with my confidence. I normally kept that to myself.
In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d played in front of anyone, but maybe because of Asher, I was feeling more alive.
More confident. And that hollowness in my mind wasn’t quite as empty.
A distraction from my current conundrum, and focusing on a different secret sounded nice; plus, one good deed balanced out a not-so-good one, right?
Both pairs of eyes quickly scanned me, and then the man shared a sideways glance with the woman.
“It’s a difficult piece, so how do we know you’re not just lying to try and get into a studio?” the man asked.
“You really have nothing to lose. If you’re out a pianist and this young lady you’re speaking about has her audition today, isn’t missing it worse than potentially having a crappy pianist?” I replied.
The woman sighed and shrugged her shoulders. The man clicked his tongue and then extended his hand. “Carl Davis.” I placed my palm in his and smiled.
“Cosette.”
“And this is Margaret. She’s the young woman’s mom.
Nina is waiting in studio five if you want to come with us.
” He gestured further down the room and slowly began walking.
Margaret eyed me one more time before following behind.
I skirted quickly around the couch and joined in step with both of them.
“What instrument does Nina play?” I asked, Margaret’s heels clicking loudly beside me. I already knew simply from the music choice, and the solo they mentioned, but wanted to make small talk.
“The viola,” she answered.
“That piece has one of the most difficult solos written for a viola,” I giddily replied, excited. Most people tried to avoid that particular Concerto because of the level of precision required.
“You’re a Duvaldi fan?” she asked. I gave her a simple smile.
Something like that.
Carl paused, spinning around to face Margaret and me, and spoke before I had a chance.
“He’s the greatest classical composer of the twenty-first century, and yet nobody even knows who he is.
Publishing a single composition every year, I have yet to be let down.
It’s incredible. Someday I’d love to meet him, learn how he does it.
Why he does it.” He trembled in excitement.
Margaret shook her head with a grin. “Carl is a major fan, obviously. Being Nina’s teacher, he’s the reason she chose this particular piece to audition with.”
I nodded. “That’s wonderful.”
Carl pointed to the door beside him. “In here. I really hope you can actually play this piece, because otherwise…” His voice trailed off as he turned the golden handle and pushed open the door.
Play it? I smiled to myself. If I couldn’t play it, that would be downright embarrassing.