Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Alexander
“Send a pair of tickets to Trey Hale and a pair to his agent Buck Remsen. Also, I want two sent to Olivia Hull.” I glance out the window of my apartment at the rain pelting Manhattan. “I’ve sent you an email with all of their contact information. Invite each to the reception after the performance.”
I end the call with Vito, my manager, before he can get in another word.
He’s already talking about my next venture. According to him, I should accept an offer to guest conduct in Australia early next year.
I’m not feeling the pull that I usually do when a new opportunity crosses my path.
My connection to Alvin is growing day-by-day. We spent hours talking about the World Series and I was his first call when it was over.
I could hear Phoebe in the background cheering, but Alvin’s voice broke when he told me he was proud of Trey and his teammates for winning the series. The kid’s birthday gift sparked a new connection for us.
I’m still just Alex to him, but I don’t care. I’m finding a spot in his life that I can fill and that’s good enough for me.
“I don’t get to see you on opening night?” Jack walks into the main living space with two beers in his hands. He shoves one at me. “I’m not a hometown hero like Trey Hale, and my name isn’t as cool as Buck Remsen, but I thought I’d score a set of tickets.”
“Go to hell,” I joke. “I had two sent to your office yesterday.”
“That’s what was in that envelope?” He drops onto my leather couch. “I should pay more attention when I get a delivery from you.”
“Who are you bringing?” I take a swig from the beer.
Jack brought six bottles over. It’s good. I don’t drink often, but when Jack and I get together, a bottle of imported is usually in each of our hands.
“I haven’t decided yet,” he mutters. “I’ll surprise you.”
I move to sit on the chair opposite him. “You’re coming solo, aren’t you?”
“And waste a ticket?” He shakes his head. “No way in hell. I’m still considering my options.”
“Bring your assistant.”
“Everly?” He huffs out a laugh. “She doesn’t strike me as the symphony type, Alex.”
She’s his type, even if he can’t see it.
“Forget about Everly. Let’s talk about Olivia Hull.” He places the beer on the wooden coffee table in front of him. “Who is she?”
I follow suit and put mine down too. “Trey’s cousin.”
“Ah,” He leans back on the couch. “So, she’s the one who came to your rescue when your one-night stand fucked off with the autographed jersey?”
“That’s her.” I nod. “She went to Trey, his agent got involved and the rest is history.”
“So the tickets are just your way of saying thank you to her?”
I shrug. “I gave her flowers. The tickets are another way to thank her.”
He sets one ankle on the opposite knee. His gray suit is expensive, his shoes more so. It looks like handling my money is paying off for him. Although, I’m only one of the dozens of clients he has.
“You’re interested in this woman, aren’t you?” He reaches forward to grab his beer.
“She’s interesting,” I counter. “She’s not impressed by who I am.”
“You make it sound like that’s rare.” He laughs. “Do women fall at your feet when they realize you’re the Alexander Donato?”
They do. More often than he’d realize.
“Olivia is a good person.” The words leave my mouth before I think them through. “She did me a huge favor. I don’t think a lot of women in this city would be willing to go to that much trouble to help a stranger.”
“You don’t think she did it because of who you are?” He tips his bottle toward me. “Maybe she’s looking for a hook-up with the master conductor.”
If she is, she’s doing a hell of a good job playing hard to get.
“She did it for Alvin.” I glance down at the screen of my phone when it chimes. “The pasta I ordered is here.”
“It’s about time.” He finishes what’s left in the bottle in his hand. “I’ll grab us another beer.”
Trey: Hey Alex! I got the tickets. I’ll be there. Thanks, man!
I smile at the text message.
It’s been days since Vito send out the ticket packages to Trey, Buck and Olivia.
Buck called me the next day to thank me for the invitation. He’s bringing his ex-wife in an attempt to rekindle the fire.
If I can play a part in a reunion, I’m happy to oblige.
I type out a response to Trey.
Alexander: I’ll see you then.
My fingers hover over the screen. I’m tempted to ask about Olivia. I haven’t heard anything from her since the tickets were delivered to her office. I have no idea if she’s even a fan of the symphony.
I press send as the sound of elevator doors opening draws my gaze up.
“Mr. Donato?”
I look her over. She’s wearing a pale pink skirt and a sheer black blouse. Her hair is pulled back into a messy knot at the base of her neck.
Olivia Hull has to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.
“Olivia,” I greet her as she takes a step off the elevator. “It’s good to see you.”
She adjusts the black trench coat slung over her forearm as she looks around the lobby of the Foster Enterprises building. “What are you doing here?”
I could lie and say that I’m here to see her, but I doubt that would earn me a smile.
I can’t tell if she’s as attracted to me as I am to her. The puzzled look on her face at the moment isn’t helping.
“I’m here to see Gabriel Foster.” I watch as the elevator doors slide shut. “We’re meeting for lunch.”
She nods, her teeth tugging on the corner of her bottom lip. “I need to go. I have to be uptown in ten minutes.”
“Did you get the tickets to the symphony and the invitation to the reception?” I ask casually as she turns to walk away.
Her eyes scan my face. “I did. It wasn’t necessary, but thank you.”
“You’ll come?”
A blush blooms high on her cheeks. If I knew her mind was going to wander there, I wouldn’t have phrased it as a question.
She’d come with me. I’d make it my mission every time I fucked her.
Her hand darts to her cheek, her fingers feathering a path over her smooth skin. “I’m not sure. I have to check my schedule. I think I may have plans for that night.”
My gaze glides over her left hand.
No ring.
She’s not married or engaged.
If there’s a boyfriend, I’ll back off.
I fish for more. “If you do have plans, perhaps you and your boyfriend could at least make time for the performance. I promise it will be a night to remember.”
She takes a deep breath. “I’ll have a closer look at my schedule. I do need to run now, Mr. Donato.”
“Alexander.”
“Alexander,” she repeats back softly. “Goodbye.”
I don’t respond.
I watch her walk away, wondering if another man is going to have her in his bed tonight.
If that’s the case, I hate the lucky son-of-a-bitch.