Chapter 9 Miles #3
“Well, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Between my baritone voice, beguiling grin, and the purple suit…you should expect widespread swooning.”
She shakes her head. “Okay, hotshot. We’ll see.”
“Obviously, that can’t happen again, and no one can—”
“Oh my God—we kissed. It’s not a big deal.”
“Right.”
She fluffs up her hair. “Macy should be here soon, right?”
I check my phone. “Any minute now.”
“Good. I have to meet James at a Starbucks in a couple of hours.”
“James?”
“The composer and musical director.”
“Right.”
She picks up her shoulder bag and starts riffling through it again.
Whatever she’s looking for, she’s not finding it.
She’s frustrated. And flustered. It’s so cute.
Not a big deal my ass. She’s probably trying to find her way back to what life was like for her before I blew her mind by singing and kissing her.
Like Alice, lost in Wonderland. Except Aria is doomed to live in this wonderland of obsessing about me forever.
I can help her get back on track. “How are you planning on coaching her? Macy?”
“Well…” She drops her bag to the floor again. And just like that, she’s back in voice coach mode. “She seems like a very serious girl…”
“Accurate.”
“Does she do well at school?”
“She gets good grades. She’s good at taking tests. She works really hard on her assignments.”
“I figured. She really needs to lighten up. But I was thinking I should teach her the science of sound and singing. The physiology and physics of it. Soundwaves, pitch, frequency. Airflow, how the vocal folds vibrate. All the different parts of her body that vibrate to create sound.”
“As long as you don’t get into how fart sounds are made, that’s a great plan.”
“Well, that would be more of a master class. I think if she has an intellectual understanding of how the voice works, she’ll feel more connected to her own voice that way.”
That is perfect. That is exactly what she needs. I’m so mad that I didn’t think of that. “That’s a good idea.”
She waves her arms around. “But then I’m going to make her forget all of it. So she can let go and actually connect to the meaning of the songs she’s singing and enjoy performing.”
“That all sounds great.”
“I mean, it takes years of training to make major improvements to someone’s voice. But I can set her on the right path. I do believe I can help her.”
“Do you really?”
“I believe in the power of sheer will and determination.”
“Yours or hers?”
“Ours.”
I can’t for the life of me tell if she means hers and Macy’s or hers and mine.
She meets my gaze again, for the first time since we kissed. Suddenly, there’s nothing else we can talk about. This once-empty room is now filled with unspoken thoughts, unfulfilled urges, and the ghost of orgasms future.
Three strides and I could take her in my arms again. Every single thing she’s saying with those hazel eyes is telling me to do it. We should do it in the guest house. By the sheer force of will and determination, either one of us could make that happen or ensure that it never will.
But the sound of flat little palms slapping against the windows of the French doors reminds us both of why we’re here.
My daughter is the one who’s grinning like a Cheshire Cat right now.
I haven’t seen her this happy since that time we took her to Aladdin.
She doesn’t wait for Aria to open the door.
She just walks right in. Nanny Cho waves to me from outside before retreating.
“Hey, sweetie,” I say, truly relieved to see her.
She gives me a look.
“I mean—good day to you, Miss Alice.”
“Hello, Cheshire Cat.” She walks right over to Aria, stands there looking up at her. For a second, I’m worried that she can tell I just kissed her. But then she puts her arms around Aria’s waist and hugs her.
Macy is not a hugger. She hugs me and she hugs her mom and she hugs her nanny occasionally when she’s overwhelmed with gratitude for a gift she gave her. But I can’t think of any other time she’s ever hugged anyone other than us. “Thank you,” she says. “I’m really excited to be Alice.”
Despite that kiss, it’s what Aria says next that will determine how I’ll feel about her going forward.
She could ruin everything by using the wrong tone, or she could be one of the most influential teachers in a young girl’s life.
Aria’s arms encircle my daughter’s neck.
There’s genuine warmth there between them.
“I’m really excited to work with you, Miss Alice. ”
Macy closes her eyes and smiles even bigger. And that’s it. My daughter trusts her. When she pulls away, she looks around and asks, “How come you’re in Mrs. Wilson’s guest house?”
Aria doesn’t even glance in my direction before answering. “Well, I’m going to be moving in here. I was looking for a new place to live, and when I called your dad to tell him you got the part, he told me about this guest house.”
Believable.
I can tell Macy believes her.
And that’s it. I trust her too. And I am fucked beyond belief.