Chapter Seven #2
Julian pulled out his phone and started recording.
He stood perfectly still, afraid that an errant breeze might cause Charlie to halt the choir, but to his surprise, they reached the end of the song without any mishaps.
He let out a relieved breath. Maybe Doris had made a good call.
All they needed was a proper break to reset things.
Julian played the video back, his grin falling away the longer he watched.
Now that he was really examining the choir, he couldn’t ignore how rigid they appeared.
They actually looked like they were afraid to move a muscle or crack a smile or do anything that would attract Charlie’s scrutiny.
It was all so serious, and not in a let’s-win-this-competition way.
It was more of a we-are-being-forced-to-stand-up-here-and-sing way.
He couldn’t send this to the Arts Council. They’d be rejected for sure.
“Charlie?” he called, worrying his lip. She’d already gotten so aggravated with him when he’d mentioned that she was being critical. What would she say about this? “Can you come take a look at this with me?”
She neared, leaning around his arm to watch the video. When it was done, she gave a curt nod. “Looks like we got it.”
“Uh-huh, you don’t see anything wrong?”
“I mean, the audio quality isn’t the greatest,” she said, “but that’s more a problem with your phone.”
Julian swallowed his grumble. “I’m talking about the way the choir looks.”
“What about them?”
“Well…they’re not really having any fun.”
“What do you want?” Charlie snapped. “Them dressed in clown costumes, twirling balloon animals?”
Julian rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”
“And what did you mean?”
“Only that you’ve been sort of tough on them today.”
“By asking them to be professional?”
“All I’m saying is that maybe if you lightened up a bit they would, too. They take their cues from you.”
That had been entirely the wrong thing to say. He could see it now. Charlie coiled like a snake about to strike.
“If you think you can do a better job conducting this choir, then have at it, Julian!” She gathered up her things from the table and stormed out.
“Charlie!” he called after her. Bahhhh! He glanced back over his shoulder at the choir. “Uh, take five. No, twenty. Actually, let’s just call it for today. Good job, team!” He fist pumped the air, then dashed into the hallway.
Charlie was motoring, already turning into the lobby, shrugging into her winter coat.
“Charlie!” he called again, rushing after her.
He ran past the front desk and out into a bitter, gray December day.
It had been snowing all morning, more than Julian had expected.
Charlie’s car was buried under half a foot of snow.
The parking lot hadn’t even been cleared yet, and neither had the roads from what he could see.
“Where are you going?” he called after her.
“Home. To Gram’s.” She waved off his question. “Whatever. I have a house to organize. I don’t need to be wasting my time here.”
Julian groaned, his breath fogging in front of his face. “You weren’t wasting your time. Just come back inside,” he called. “The roads aren’t clear yet.”
Charlie stomped around her car, brushing at the snow with her coat sleeve. When she’d cleared enough to get the back door open, she reached inside for a snowbrush.
“Don’t do something stupid just because you’re annoyed with me,” he called. “At least wait until the plows come out to clear the streets.”
She ignored him.
The last thing he wanted was Charlie trying to drive in this.
Best case she’d get stuck before she left the parking lot.
Worst case she’d skid off the road and get into an accident.
Julian picked up a handful of snow from the walkway, packed it together and hurled it in Charlie’s direction.
The snowball hit the windshield, releasing a spray of powder into the air.
Charlie squinted as the cloud of snow hit her face. She dropped the snowbrush. “Did you just throw snow at me?”
“Not at you,” he clarified. “Just in your general direction.”
“Knock it off!”
Julian ignored that request and threw another snowball. “Come back inside!”
Charlie picked up a handful of snow and threw it back. “Why? So you can tell me to lighten up some more?”
Julian dodged. “I didn’t mean it, okay?”
“Yes, you did!”
A snowball exploded against the wall beside him. Hard. Holy! She had damn good aim.
“Everyone could see what you were thinking,” she continued.
“Just…come inside. We can talk about it.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to go home.”
A snowball hit him square in the chest, and he groaned. Dammit! “Did that have a rock in it?”
Charlie froze with her arm up, glancing at the snowball in her hand.
“Don’t make me come out there to get you,” Julian warned, hands already up, ready to fend off another projectile.
Perhaps it was the challenge. Perhaps it was a desire to pummel him in the face, but Charlie let the snowball fly. Her aim was true again, and though Julian managed to bat it away, the spray of dust still left him shivering.
“All right, that’s enough.” He surged into the parking lot.
Charlie gave a little yelp and dove behind her car. “You started it!”
Julian chased after her, darting around the car. He twitched in the cold. “I’m not kidding, Charlie. I’m not letting you drive in this.”
“You can’t tell me what to do. I’m not one of your residents.”
“I don’t tell them what to do, either.”
Charlie whipped around the end of her car. Julian doubled back, and though she was quick, he was quicker thanks to his long legs. He reached for her coat, just missing her.
Charlie jumped back, brandishing the snowbrush like a weapon, keeping him at a distance. “Stop it!”
“You stop it!” Julian latched onto the end of the snowbrush, hauling her closer.
She let out a puff of air, the space between them suddenly heated.
Julian felt like he’d just stepped into a sauna as his blood raced in his ears. “Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder and haul you inside.”
Her eyes narrowed in challenge. “You wouldn’t.”
He tugged on the snowbrush again, catching her wrist. “Try me.”
“Okay,” she squealed. “Okay!” She looked him up and down. He could feel the snow seeping into his socks. Feel Charlie’s pulse skip under his fingers. “You’re so dramatic.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have to be if you’d just cooperate,” he said.
Her cheeks were pink, the tip of her nose closer to cherry.
He was tempted to brush his finger against her skin.
To shift the blond hairs by her cheeks behind her ear.
To tuck her into his arms, fending off the cold.
He was tempted by delusion. “Truce?” he breathed.
“Truce.”
He released the snowbrush and his wild desires, and she left it, leaning up against the car.
“Come have a coffee,” he said, heading for the building. “As soon as the roads are clear, you can go.”
“Fine,” she muttered. He tried not to grin at the sight of her stomping along beside him. He didn’t know why, but this felt like some kind of victory.
Charlie followed him back through the lobby.
Erin frowned in his direction, but Julian shook his head.
The universal sign for don’t ask. He led Charlie to the dining room, blessedly empty between meals, and secured them two cups of piping hot coffee from the kitchen.
They sat at a tiny table in the corner of the room.
“Did you really think the video was that bad?” Charlie asked after her first sip.
Julian shrugged. “Not bad. But you were being hard on them.”
Charlie hummed. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
She leaned her head on her hand, pouting. It was so adorable he almost reached for her hand.
“Look, it was still better than anything I could have done on my own. You’re the best volunteer we’ve ever had.” He wanted her to understand how amazing she’d been for Glendale. “I almost can’t believe we lucked out with the opportunity to have someone of your caliber helping with the program.”
Charlie turned away, a bit of a flush running up her neck.
“I mean it,” he said. “You’re really, really good at what you do.”
“Thanks,” she said softly. “All the schooling helps.”
“Don’t downplay your talent,” Julian said. “I mean it. I’m sure Juilliard helped you hone it, but you have a gift, and I’m really glad you chose a career where you get to share it with the world.”
She didn’t look at him. Or maybe she wouldn’t. He meant every word, though. She was born to perform.
“I was being a little tough,” she admitted.
Julian smirked. “Was that so hard?”
Her eyes flickered to his, then back down to her coffee. “I realize that this is important to you. I’m not trying to ruin it.”
“You haven’t ruined anything.”
She nodded slowly. “Can I ask… Why is the music program that important to you? You never really struck me as a musical guy. I thought you studied health sciences in school?”
“I did,” Julian said. “A lot of my studies were actually in health and aging. Even took a couple of really interesting courses in cognitive neurosciences. But there was one that specifically looked at the role of music and the aging brain. I loved that course, and I think it partly inspired my desire to establish a successful music program here.”
“And what was the other part?”
A muscle in Julian’s cheek twitched as his thoughts turned to Grandma Sofia. “Actually, uh…it’s mostly because my grandmother had dementia.”
“I never knew that,” Charlie said softly. She frowned, looking somewhat perplexed, like she was racking her brain for the information.
Julian smiled a bit. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever mentioned his grandmother the summer they spent together.
It had still been a sore spot for him, and maybe part of what he’d loved about the time he had with Charlie was the distraction and how easy it was to forget about the rest of the world.
“I’m not sure if you remember that my parents are divorced? ”
Charlie nodded.