CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 21
The kitten started crying soon as Kari opened the rear door and deposited her on the kitchen floor. Mewing like she was forever lost.
“I don’t understand this.” Kari seemed genuinely mystified, watching Sienna claw at the screen. “Before tonight she fled from everyone. She wouldn’t let Indrid get within ten feet.”
Ian still felt slightly intoxicated from their kiss. Added to this now was Kari’s relaxed closeness. “Maybe it was just a phase. You know, new home and all.”
“I suppose.” She reentered the house, rummaged through a drawer, then told Sienna, “If you’re coming, you have to wear the leash.”
He watched Kari settle on the floor, heard the kitten begin to purr. “I’ve never seen a cat on a leash before.”
“It happens. Not often. I was told to start her young.” She rose to her feet, opened the door, and asked the kitten, “Are you walking?”
As if in response, the kitten trotted over and planted her forepaws on Ian’s leg. And mewed.
Kari said, “This is just unbelievable.”
Ian lifted the kitten, allowed her to nuzzle his cheek. The leash was attached to a harness that fit in front of and behind the forelegs. “I feel like I’ve just made a new BFF.”
Kari studied him, her eyes glowing in the porch light. “We should be going.”
As they came around front, Ian recalled, “You said they might want me to play for my meal.”
“I was kidding. Sort of. But I’m sure they would be delighted.”
Ian handed the kitten over, unlocked the Honda, and drew out his guitar case. “I was wondering if you’d like to come hear us tomorrow night. We’re doing a complete run-through of the Miami gig. Danny is bringing in videographers to shoot the performance.”
“And Danny is . . . ?”
“Danny Byrd is producing the film that started this whole thing. You saw him at Castaways. Amazon has contracted him to make a documentary of our Miami concert. They want to release it as a sort of promo for the film itself. An evening with Hart and Larkin. Something like that.”
She nudged him with her free arm. “Try to be a little more casual, the way you say all that.”
“It’s all a mask. Inside I’m quivering.”
“I don’t believe that. Not for an instant.”
“Between us, I suggested this full dress rehearsal in front of an audience. I’m a little concerned about Connor.” They walked the valley road, so close together, they made contact with every other step. Two friends sharing an evening stroll. With her kitten purring a softly emphatic note. “Today was our last session. Toward the end, Connor started sweating like he’d run a four-minute mile. His voice broke twice on the last song.”
“Why can’t you practice more?”
“I leave day after tomorrow for Miami. I’m scheduled for full rehearsals with Saban and the orchestra . . .” He realized she was watching him. “What?”
“I was hoping . . . I don’t know. That we’d travel together.”
“Kari, that’s so sweet. I’d like nothing more. But I have to go.”
“I understand.”
“I could come meet you at the airport.”
“That’s being silly.”
“No it’s not.”
“Ian Hart. The star. Hanging around Miami International. Waiting. For me.”
“With balloons. And flowers.”
“You’re very sweet to offer, Ian.”
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a ‘Don’t talk silliness.’” The kitten started squirming, so Kari set her on the pavement. When Sienna fell into step between them, she said, “I’m not letting her outdoors off the leash. Maybe in time, but I don’t think so. I’ve heard animal sounds at night. I’m afraid something might get her.”
“That’s probably wise.”
The evening held them in a balmy embrace. The homes they passed were illuminated and welcoming. Conversation and laughter and the sound of chattering televisions drifted in the otherwise still air. Then through one screened door came the sounds of a full orchestra.
“Debussy,” Ian said. “That piece is called Arabesque. He never wrote for guitar. But I did a rendition of one of his pieces.”
“ ‘Claire de Lune,’” Kari said. “I have the album.”
“Okay, now I’m really impressed.” When she merely smiled in response, he added, “If you’re coming to our concert in Miami—”
“Don’t be silly. Of course I am.”
“Tomorrow night will be an exact duplicate. Assuming we don’t mess anything up.”
“Why should that bother me?” Two steps, then, “Ian, I listen to your albums all the time.”
He had no idea how to respond, except to reach over with the hand not carrying his case and rest it on her shoulder. Drawing them closer still.
As they approached the last house before the valley gates, he could see families filling the backyard. “Who are these people?”
Before she could respond, however, Kari’s phone chimed. She checked the readout and said, “It’s my manager. Which reminds me. Can they come tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“Great.” She handed him the kitten. “Go on inside and introduce yourself. Tell them I’ll be in soon as I’m done.”
Which was how Ian wound up entering the house full of strangers. Carrying his guitar in one hand. And a cinnamon-dappled kitten in the other. He might have made more of a stir if he had been accompanied by a full marching band.
Then again, maybe not.