Chapter 12 Erik
Chapter twelve
Erik
My fingers trace her signature. It has to be her. My Angel. There couldn’t be two.
I’m not so far gone that I don’t understand his concern.
I need to explain to her that she’s safe from us. This is protection. Nothing else.
“Fuck, man.” Remy’s sigh gusts over me. “This isn’t right. We need to move out of there.”
“No.” I realize I need to explain. It’s Remy, so I try. “She’s scared. She won’t hurt either of us.”
He stares at me, then reaches over without breaking eye contact, grabs my drink, and downs it. He’s already finished his.
“Listen,” I say. “We need to communicate with her. At least try.” I hesitate. “We both know the history. The problems didn’t start until the professor’s death. Maybe we should look into it. There were allegations. Then his family sued for wrongful death, and the bank ended up with the property.”
“How do you know about the professor?” Remy asks, quiet disbelief threading his voice. He’s not wrong to be surprised.
“It involved the opera house,” I say. “I was hoping to write my first score for them.”
That part lands harder than I expect. He’s right. I don’t pay attention to things that don’t interest me. And I should’ve been helping him more.
“My phone’s charged enough now,” I add. “I can send you the names of the sponsors who emailed me.”
His eyes narrow. I smirk.
He’s right to be suspicious.
"We need an assistant,” he says. He knows I’ll agree right now.
“Okay.”
“You need to give them access to your email and calendar,” he adds. “And you need to listen to them. Pay attention. Answer them.”
I’m not good with people. They tend to be boring. I don’t like boring, and pacifying them by listening to their incessant drivel isn’t in me. Remy knows this.
“Don’t hire an idiot,” I say mildly.
I wait. I know he’s going to squeeze at least one more demand out of me before he feels like he’s made progress. I let him. It’s always best to let him think I’m listening.
“You need to come to a patron dinner,” he says.
I nod, but he holds up a hand. “And interact with them. Politely.” Smart to tack that on.
I nod again and drink more water.
“One more thing,” he adds. “You need to find a conductor you’ll actually work with and give them full authority to hire.”
I shrug and scroll through my phone, then forward him a contact.
James Earl.
I’ll work with him. He’s a perfectionist and doesn’t suffer fools. I can work with that.
The server returns, and the conversation drops away as we turn to our food.