Chapter 5 #2
The stars were already shining when Cadenza pulled into Norroway Automotive. After the audition, the evening had consisted of errands, a call to her agent, and a trip to Sonora City Cemetery to fill her dad in on her new job. As a lounge singer.
Lounge singer. NASCAR national anthem performer. Cadenza inhaled, adjusting her perspective.
Just steps. Only temporary. Maybe a drive in the Ferrari would help those steps feel like something worth celebrating.
She watched the garage door slide open, impatient to get the F12 out on the track, but only bare concrete greeted her in the garage.
The Ferrari was gone again.
Drostan probably took it for a drive, since it’s fixed now. You should be happy, she told herself. That was the whole point of fixing it. But disappointment sank in her stomach, and she realized she’d been looking forward to telling the car about her audition.
She rubbed her forehead. “You need some real friends, Cadenza.”
Maybe she’d run down to ask how the Berlinetta had run for him. And then he’d want to hear how the audition went. Or maybe Canon would ask.
Leaving the garage, she trekked down the hill. Cicadas droned underneath cricket song. Stars shimmered like cymbals, and the heat of the day thrummed like timpani up from the asphalt. The music wove together, hypnotic, and her steps slowed. Stopped.
She swayed in the summer night symphony. The earthsong crept up to her shoulders. Shot down her arms. Her fingers itched with the urge to do something with the music. Notes swelled in her throat, and she gasped.
Stop it. I’m in control. She clenched her fists and shoved the song down. Focused on breathing. The thrumming receded under the pavement. The stars quieted.
What is wrong with you lately? She glared at the ground. The earthsong hadn’t pushed her that hard in years. Disappearing completely at Canon’s thing, practically knocking me over today. Cadenza shook her head, stepped up to the front door of the cottage, and knocked for the second time that day.
A stranger opened the door. The stranger. Drostan’s son. But he looked nothing like the disoriented mess she’d seen last night, and Cadenza had to bite her lip to keep from gawking.
Bronze highlights glowed in clean, touchable, shoulder-length dark brown hair.
In place of rags, he wore a fitted black T-shirt and dark jeans that outlined a muscular torso and slim hips.
Last night his face had been twisted with confusion, but he gazed at her this evening with open features and eyes that burned a deep gold.
Her cheeks heated, and she couldn’t find her voice under the force of his gaze. Drumbeats slammed into her, knocking her backwards, and she threw her arms wide for balance.
The stranger shot out a hand to catch her wrist. “Alright there?”
She got her feet under her, and he let go. “I’m looking for Drostan. The Ferrari is gone. Again.”
“Ah, you must be the lass that fixed it. Father was just saying how grateful he is for that.” His expression brightened, and he leaned against the doorframe, arms loosely folded across his chest. Cadenza’s eyes traveled the length of him of their own accord, taking in the planes and angles of his posture.
The way the light behind him carved shadows in his cheekbones.
She yanked her gaze back to his face and rubbed her arms, trying to brush the bass notes off her limbs.
“Yeah, that’d be me.” Earthsong not behaving.
Eyes not behaving. Get it together, Cadenza.
Not that a man with a face that perfect had any business surprising her on her boss’s front porch.
Or even being in a town as tucked away as Sonora.
He spoke with an accent as pronounced as his father’s.
When Drostan had said his son had been away, maybe he’d meant for a modeling career in Scotland?
“I’m Taran Norroway, by the by.” He shook her hand, his skin warm on hers.
Timpani rolled up her arm, and she shivered. “Cadenza Cavalieri. Is Drostan home? Or did he take the Ferrari out?”
Footsteps thumped behind Taran, and Drostan appeared at the door. “Caddie! How did your audition go? And I see you’ve met my son?”
“Good, good. I got the job.”
Drostan grinned. “That’s brilliant!”
“Thanks. Listen, the Ferrari is gone again. Do you have it here, or do we have some very indecisive thieves?”
“I’m afraid I’m the thief,” Taran said.
Drostan chuckled. “That’s true. It’s his car after all. He took it out tonight, and just…” He glanced at his son. “Hasn’t put it back in the garage yet.”
“It’s yours?” Cadenza started and turned back to Taran.
“Aye, more or less. But this is cold comfort to keep you on the front step. Perhaps you’d like to come in and have some tea?” Taran gestured into the cottage. “I’d love to hear how you got the old relic running again.”
The earthsong pulsed through the porch floorboards, making Cadenza shuffle her feet like she was trying to scrape something off her shoes. The cymbal of the stars collided with the drums in a cacophony of percussion.
“Tea?” The music was so loud she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.
Taran was staring at her, head cocked to one side, eyebrows pulled together. “Are you alright?”
“Um, yes. Sure, tea.” Maybe the music would be quieter indoors. She stepped over the threshold and a blast of drumbeats reverberated up her leg. She jumped back as if stung. “Actually,” she stammered, scrambling down the porch steps. “It was a long day, I’d better not.”
Drostan hurried forward. “Caddie, is something amiss?”
The drums boomed in her stomach.
“No, no.” She smiled too brightly and waved him off.
“Just tired. Gonna go chill and go to bed. Just,” she addressed Taran and wagged a finger in a joking scold.
Because joking is what normal people do, right?
Normal people who aren’t getting swamped by things that no one else can hear.
“Make sure you get the Ferrari home by midnight, ok?”
He chuckled. “No worries there. It’ll be back in good time.”
Cymbals crashed through her again, and Cadenza couldn’t pretend to answer this time. Cheeks blazing, she beat a retreat up the hill, resisting the urge to cover her ears.