Epilogue
Ever
Two years later.
“I think we got it,” Rio says into the microphone to the studio. He holds up two thumbs through the window, and I do the same.
Dmitri blows me a kiss, looking sexy as hell in a gray button-down, his sleeves rolled up, showing off his forearms, and black trousers.
I wink at him in return, causing Zemira to groan and roll her eyes while Nayla chuckles and shakes her head.
Iggy is too busy watching Rio next to me to be paying any attention.
“Are we ready for the playback?” I ask Rio.
He holds up a finger, pressing buttons and turning knobs with the other.
It’s not the biggest, but the music coming out of this New Island studio is making waves.
Dmitri and his quartet won a Grammy for Best Chamber Music/Small Ensemble Performance for the album they recorded, which was the reason he was staying in Maplewood two years ago.
And though he didn’t win, Rio was nominated for Best Engineered Album, Classical, which has made getting studio time a little harder, but Rio deserves all the success.
“Okay, here we go.” Rio hits a switch and the lone sound of Dmitri’s violin fills the room, soon joined by Zemira’s cello, followed by Iggy and Nayla’s violin and viola.
I close my eyes and listen to the notes I wrote given life by these four talented musicians.
When the last note ends, I take a moment before opening my eyes.
Behind them, the sting of emotion burns.
Yes, I’ve heard the quartet practice via Zoom, and yes, I’ve been sitting right next to Rio while they’ve recorded.
But hearing my music over the speakers, knowing that it will soon be released to the public, has my stomach doing flips and leaves me a little lightheaded.
“That’s it,” Zemira says, her grin growing.
“Definitely,” Iggy agrees.
Nayla tips her head to the side, the ponytail of long auburn hair tilting with her as her entire face lights up in a smile. “Damn, we’re good.”
But my gaze stays glued to the person I trust most in this world.
The man who encourages and supports me. The man, whose crazy idea it was to have me compose songs for his quartet to record.
And when he flashes me that wide smile, the one that still sends a swarm of bees buzzing in my stomach and kicks up my heart rate, I’m glad all over again that I decided to have a fling with a tourist.
“It’s perfect.”
“Yeah, it is.” Rio high-five’s me and all the stressing I’ve done about putting my compositions out there tumbles out in laughter.
The quartet packs up, but Dmitri stops what he’s doing to greet me with a toe-curling kiss when I enter the room.
“Hi,” he says.
“You were magnificent.” Lips still tingling, but needing more, I pull him into another kiss.
Clap, clap, clap sounds behind us.
“Enough of that, you two. We have to be at the Playhouse in thirty minutes for the fundraiser, and if I don’t get something to eat before we perform, I’m liable to stab someone with my bow.” Zemira pokes her finger into Dmitri’s side.
He wiggles free of my grasp, laughing. “That tickles.”
“That’s the point. Now get moving.” She shrugs her cello onto her back. “Rio, can Iggy ride with you?”
“Sure.” Rio appears in the doorway, his dark hair in a messy bun. Loose curls have broken free, framing his high cheekbones.
Iggy’s cheeks turn a shade of pink that reminds me of a flamingo. “Why can’t I ride with you and Nayla?”
“Because I need to discuss something private with her,” Zemira replies.
Nayla pats Iggy on the shoulder and lowers her voice. “You’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” But Iggy looks far from okay. The poor guy blanches like he’s going to lose his lunch.
I catch the knowing look that passes between Nayla and Zemira.
We all know Iggy has been crushing on Rio since their last album.
The most words I heard him string together at once was about the color of Rio’s eyes.
Apparently, Zemira and Nayla are taking matters into their own hands and forcing an interaction outside of a group setting.
“Will you lock up for me?” Rio tosses his keys to Dmitri.
Dmitri catches them. “Sure.”
“See you all there.” Zemira pushes Iggy out the door to Rio, with Nayla following.
“Go straight to the Playhouse. Naloni and the board will have food for you there,” Dmitri calls.
Quiet settles over the room. Dmitri gets his violin and I gather his tablet and sheet music, tucking it into his messenger bag.
“So what’d you think?” He stops in the doorway, giving the room one last once-over, before turning off the lights.
“It was surreal to hear it all come to life.” I follow him to the parking lot, stopping to wait as he locks up.
We reach the car, and he lays his violin on the back seat. “And now we’ll get to hear fifty budding musicians play your ‘Ode to a Honeybee.’”
I chuckle. While that’s not the name of the composition, it was inspired by bees.
It was Dmitri’s idea to have the Maplewood Youth Orchestra debut it during their first season.
It was also his idea to create a fundraiser around it to raise funds for bee conservation and the youth orchestra.
And somehow he convinced his busy friends to not only provide master classes for the kids, but to perform at the fundraiser too.
“How are you feeling about the concert?” I hand him his messenger bag and he sets it on the floor behind the driver’s side seat.
“The kids have been practically feral, they’re so excited.
Thank god for Icelyn. How she keeps them focused and on task, while getting the sound out of them I didn’t think possible at this stage, is remarkable.
” He bands his arms around my waist and looks up at me.
“But I’ll be happy when tonight is over and we can go home. ”
I brush my thumb over the crinkle between his eyebrows that shows up when he’s busy or stressed. “We can order in and see what’s on the BBC.”
“Throw in a bubble bath and you’ve got yourself a deal.” He tips his chin up, and I capture his lips in a kiss that is just as searing as our first, but better. “I love you.”
“And I love you.” I give him another quick kiss and squeeze his ass.
He squeezes mine back. “Good.”
“So good.” After years of living with and loving this man, there is no one I’d rather share my life with. Between the music and the bees, we’ve created something beautiful, and I wouldn’t change it for anything.