Chapter 2 #2
“Anyway,” Nicholas says, “he put me in charge. We have a couple of schedule changes.”
A heavy feeling settles in my gut, especially because of the way Nicholas is smirking at me. I hurry back to the office, where the weekly schedule is posted on the door.
“You took away my Saturday night shift?” I say. “There’s a game that night.”
I look more closely at the schedule. Nicholas was originally not scheduled to work. But now my name is crossed off of Saturday, and his is scrawled below it. He moved me to Sunday and erased his own name.
He switched our shifts.
“You can’t do that,” I say, pointing at the changes. “I was on the schedule.”
“I have to be here anyway, for Kevin,” he says, “so you won’t be necessary. Besides, I got promoted to assistant manager, so I can do whatever I want with the schedule.”
“You’re an asshole,” I say.
“And you’re in danger of getting fired if you talk to me like that.”
I bite my tongue, look away. I’m so mad I could cry.
“I actually need that shift,” I tell him.
“Well, so do I, and I’m in charge of the schedule now, so you can come in on Sunday night instead.”
There’s nothing else to say. If I argue, he could send me home or fire me. So I get to work and try not to throw mutinous glances over at Nicholas. What a dick. I’ll need to give Natasha a head’s up so she knows to expect Power-Trip-Nicholas when she comes to work tomorrow.
At least one good things comes from this. Sebastian will get his wish—I’m free tomorrow night, after all.
Sebastian
On Saturday, I meet Ella at the practice room at the university, as we arranged. I pause outside the room like I usually do, and listen while I watch her through the small window in the door. She’s completely absorbed in her music, moving with grace and singing softly while she plays.
When she’s finished with the song, I knock on the door. She jumps up to let me in.
“Do you want to hear what I’m working on?” she asks.
“I might have already been listening at the door,” I say, “but I’d like to hear it again.”
She laughs. “Creeper. As you now know, it’s the same one I shared with you last time, but I’ve made some changes.”
I hope she hasn’t changed it so much that it will no longer fit with my song. I could tell she was mortified that they complemented each other so well, but I’m fucking delighted.
She begins to play, so I lean against the wall, arms crossed over my chest, while I listen. The changes are good. The song is amazing. Even better, it’s not too different—it’ll still match with mine.
“What do you think?” she asks, keeping her hands on the keyboard, but not playing.
“I still love it,” I say. “I think it’s definitely improved. I liked the switch of that final major chord to a minor, gives it a new feeling.”
She sighs. “Thank you.”
“You did all the work. Thank you for sharing it.”
“Daddy?” she asks, looking up from the keys.
“Yes, little girl?”
“Come sit down next to me.”
How can I resist a sweet request like that? I join her on the piano bench. She plays a chord, so I play an accompaniment. When she changes the chord, I switch up the melody. Pretty soon, we’re jamming and I’m wishing I was a better pianist so I could keep up with her. But it’s fucking fun, anyway.
When we stop, though, the light in her eyes quickly fades.
“What’s up?” I ask, nudging her shoulder with mine. “You seem kind of down.”
“Work sucks,” she says, “but it’s all right. Kevin’s out, and Nicholas has taken over the scheduling, and that’s why I don’t have work tonight. I wanted that shift for the tips, though.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.” I tug her closer and kiss the side of her head. “Anything I can do to make you feel better?”
“Well, you did say you had some fun planned for us, right?”
“Totally. But as for work…have you thought about quitting?”
“Pretty hard to get any tips, then,” she says, rolling her eyes.
I clear my throat. “But you could just say fuck it, and not have that job. Do you really need it?”
She folds her hands in her lap. “I do. I have expenses, I have old bills I need to pay off. Please don’t pressure me on this.”
“I just…I’d be happy—I’d be fucking over the moon—if you moved in with me.
Same for Kingston. Just imagine, not having to pay rent at your apartment anymore.
Then you could just work one job, instead of two.
You’d have more time for this.” I gesture at the room around us. “You could even go back to school.”
Her eyes fill with tears, but she blinks them away. “Please stop.”
I’m trying to show her that her life doesn’t have to be so fucking hard, but it’s hurting her because she hasn’t dared to hope for something like this.
Holding in my huff of disappointment, I nod.
“Okay. I’ll stop. Do you want to play some more, or are you ready to go out with me and let me treat you like the princess you are? ”
“I’m ready to go out,” she says, reaching over and squeezing my hand. She traces the line of words that travel up from the back of my hand, over my wrist to my forearm. à vaillant coeur rien d’impossible .
“What does this mean?” she asks.
“It’s something my mother used to tell me. To a valiant heart, nothing is impossible.”
Eyes shining, she lifts my hand to her lips and kisses the message. “Beautiful,” she whispers.
“Not as beautiful as you.” Standing up, I bring her with me. “I got you some things to wear tonight—they’re at my place. Let’s go.”