Chapter 11 #2
I take the violin and bow as Jagger hurries to retrieve his instrument.
Roy hands me a shoulder rest. I pick up the duet book Jagger dropped from the floor and set it up on a stand on display.
Jagger joins me and we tune. I have him warm up with some scales and show him which stanza is his and which is mine.
I share the importance of not only reading the music, but communicating with each other through eye contact and facial expressions.
He selects a song, and I have him sight read his part.
“Ready to try it together?” I ask.
“Ready.” Jagger juts his bow in the air with gusto, and I dodge getting smacked in the face with it.
I take a step back, keeping a safe distance from rogue bows. “Since you’re first violin, you’ll lead. Do you know how to signal when you’re ready to begin?”
“Like this?” He lifts his chin, then inhales with a loud sniff and nods like he’s been leading a section for years.
I bite my bottom lip to keep my smile in check. “Are you sure you’ve never led an orchestra before?”
He shakes his head with so much sincerity my chest pinches. “We don’t have an orchestra. And anyway, I’m not good enough. But I watch videos.”
“Yet,” I say.
He cocks his head to the side, his expression one of curiosity. “Yet what?”
“Good enough, yet.” I’m so used to Philadelphia and the surrounding counties have so much access to classical music that I have to bite my tongue to keep from interrogating the kid about his school music program.
His smile blooms wide and he stands taller and gives me an eager nod. “Yet.”
“Ready when you are.” I tuck the violin under my chin and wait for his signal.
We begin, stopping here and there when he fumbles.
When he gets frustrated, I point out that all musicians hit a wrong note or lose their place.
That it’s about the recovery, not the mistake and how to play through those mess-ups.
That playing with confidence can hide a multitude of errors.
After some encouragement and gentle corrections, Jagger is playing with more confidence.
But most importantly, he’s having fun. And so am I.
There’s something about being a part of and witnessing a child’s enjoyment of playing music. Maybe I should work with kids more. I’ve always enjoyed it and my time in Brazil reinforced that. I tuck the thought away and appreciate the moment.
After the last note, Jagger thrusts his violin and bow in the air in triumph. “That was awesome! Can we do it again?”
“We’ve already taken up a lot of Mr. Dmitri’s time,” his mom answers.
I look out the window. The rain has let up a little, but the wind is blowing it sideways. “I’m not in a hurry to go out in that.” I tip my chin to the window, then look down at Jagger. “The good thing about a rainy day is you have an excuse to stay inside and play.”
“Can we mom? Pleeeeease…”
Naloni’s gaze softens at her son’s enthusiasm before she raises it to me. “As long as you’re sure?”
“Absolutely.” I slap Jagger’s raised hand, giving him five. “Do you want to play the same song? Or should we try something else?”
“Both!” Jagger’s enthusiasm is contagious and I find myself more excited to play a duet with this young kid in a tiny music store in a tiny town than I was at any performance with the orchestra in a sold-out Marian Anderson Hall with twenty-five hundred pairs of eyes on us.
“Let’s do it.” I tuck my instrument under my chin and wait for my eager partner’s signal.
I spend the next hour lost in the fun of sharing my love of music with Jagger and our audience of two. Until I had shared it with Ever, I had thought little about how I loved the violin lessons I gave to kids while I was in school and earlier in my career.
“Jag, babe, we need to get moving.” Naloni’s soft voice frees me from my negative thoughts. “We still have to stop at the grocery store.”
Jagger pushes his bottom lip out, but he puts his violin and bow away. “Can we play together again?”
“Um…” I rub my hand over the back of my head, unsure about inserting myself into his lessons.
Naloni picks up the Disney book from the stand and hands it to her son with some cash.
“Have Mr. Roy ring this up.” She waits until he’s at the register, then lowers her voice.
“No pressure, but if you have time, I’d love for Jagger to take a few lessons with you while you’re here.
I haven’t seen him this excited about playing the violin since… ever.”
“He has a good ear and his technique is great for his age.” Maplewood was supposed to be a place to stay while working on the album, but it’s quickly feeling like more.
My gaze lands on Jagger, bouncing on his toes and waving his hands, nearly knocking over a stand of guitar picks and ear plugs as he excitedly tells Roy that he can’t wait to see if his friend wants to play a duet with him. “I’ll have to see if Roy would allow me to use one of the rehearsal rooms.”
“You can use them anytime,” Roy says. He pages through a book, finger running along the page. “I have an opening Saturday afternoon.” He looks at Naloni. “Three work?”
Her eyes spark with the same excitement as her son. “It would.” Brows raised and biting her lip, she looks at me. “Would that work for you? I know it’s a Saturday afternoon but…”
“It’s perfect. My schedule is pretty open.” I take out my phone and enter the lesson into my calendar.
“Wonderful.” Naloni digs her car keys from her large purse and I spy a planner bulging with colorful tabs noting several Maplewood festivals.
“Roy will give you my number. Send me your rate and anything you need Jagger to bring.” She takes the bag Roy hands her and gestures for Jagger to get his violin. “Come on, love bug.”
Following his mom, Jagger waves. “See you Saturday.”
They leave, hurrying down the street. I turn to Roy. “This was an eventful visit.”
“That’s Maplewood for you.” Roy raises a single shoulder in a half-shrug and sips his coffee.
When I exit the store, my feet carry me to the Honey Spot to share the surprising turn of events my afternoon took.
I don’t think about what it means that the first person I want to talk to is a man I met all of six days ago.
The soft tinkle of the bell sounds when I enter and the sweet scent of orange blossoms tickles my nose.
Warm air chases away the cold from the walk.
The rain stopped, but the temperature is still chilly and the wind makes it feel even colder.
“Hey.” Smile wide, Ever rounds the counter to stand in front of it. The navy three-quarter zip sweater with the store’s logo sitting above his left pec pulls snug against his shoulders. “Didn’t expect to see you.” He glimpses out the window. “Not too many people out today.”
I angle my head in the direction of the street. “I was at the Harmonic Circus.”
“Met Roy?” He leans against the counter, his arms folded across his chest and an easy smile playing on his lips.
My gaze adheres to those lips. The memory of how they felt, how they tasted, has me licking my own. My fingers tingle with the need to feel the hard muscles beneath the soft fabric of the sweater. I blink and focus on the question uttered from the mouth I want to consume. “And Naloni and Jagger.”
“Right. Jagger has his violin lesson with Sylvester on Thursday afternoons. Sylvester’s studio is above the yoga studio.” Ever points in the direction opposite the way I came.
“Jagger and I played together, and now I have a lesson with him on Saturday.” I huff a laugh and shake my head. “Not sure how it all happened, but I’m looking forward to it.”
Ever lets out a low whistle. “Naloni doesn’t waste time.”
“It was fun. Like when I play with you.” My ears grow hot as the memory of the other “playing” we did comes to mind, and I wonder when we can do it again.
“I love working with young musicians. Sharing music with them, seeing their faces light up when they get something they’ve been practicing.
” I scratch my jaw. “I need to get back to working with them.”
“Sounds like you’ve had a good day.” His hand rests on my forearm, squeezing like he wants to do or say more, but we’re in his place of business.
I remove his hand from my arm, threading our fingers together, which gives me the courage to tell him about my audition.
I don’t know why I’m nervous, but my twitching eye and the flapping in my stomach don’t need a reason.
“There’s an opening with the London Symphony.
Concertmaster.” His eyebrows rise. “I sent in my application and resume a few days ago, and I received an email today with an invitation for an in-person audition.”
“Wow. Congratulations.” He tugs me close, planting a hard kiss on my mouth, then pushes me back and twirls me around. “It really has been a good day.” He steps closer, eyes shining and voice dipping as he presses his body to mine. “We should celebrate.”
I run my hands over the planes of his chest, my fingers tingling to strip him. Celebrating an audition is unnecessary, but I’ll take any excuse to get naked with him again. “What’d you have in mind?”
His lips trail along my jaw. With every kiss he presses against my skin, my cock plumps more and more. “How about I make you dinner?”
“Will there be dessert?” I catch his earlobe between my teeth and tug.
He smiles against my neck. “There will definitely be dessert.”
“What time do you close?” My fingers dance along the soft cotton of his sweater, the muscles underneath jumping with each touch of my fingertips.
Conscious of the fact it’s late afternoon and we’re in his place of business, I refrain from ripping his pants open and dropping to my knees to sate my curiosity of how he tastes since I didn’t get a chance last night or this morning.
As if he can read my mind, Ever palms the back of my neck, pulling me to him, and devouring my mouth.
My hands drop to his ass, my fingers digging into the fleshy softness of his cheeks as I tug him closer, until there is no space between us.
The warmth of his tongue sweeps inside my mouth, sending a volt of electricity through my body.
He tastes of mint with a hint of coffee and something sweet.
The grip on my head tightens like he’s afraid I’ll disappear, and the sting of it has me moaning into his mouth.
He rips his mouth from me, chest heaving, eyes blown and unfocused. “Now.”
“What?” My breaths are fast and uncontrolled, and my lust-fogged brain is incapable of processing anything but how quickly we can get naked.
He presses his lips to mine in a firm kiss that promises more. “The shop closes now.”
“Oh.” My gaze follows his gorgeous ass as he strides to the front door and flips the locks, then hits the lights. “Good.”
Blue eyes rake up my body from the tips of my chocolate loafers, up my dark washed jeans to my navy raincoat hanging open, and land on my mouth. “I guarantee it will be.”
I lick my lips, swollen from his kisses. This day keeps getting better and better.