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"We both will," Mr. Benoit says through a smile. "It's your birthday tomorrow, isn't it, Isla? Let's go for a drink. It's my treat. It's not every day that you turn twenty-one."
I should point out that I'm not going to be twenty-one for another hour and I left my fake ID at home. In fact, I haven't used it since that night at Skyn. I'm still debating whether I'll ever go back there.
"I think I'll just head home." I look back at the now vacant concert hall. I had hoped to see Mr. Foster again but that hasn't happened.
"There's a car for us to use." Davis raises both brows. "It's mainly so I can take my cello back to my hotel."
"Fancy," I drawl. "I have to carry this with me on the bus."
"You'll come with us." Davis extends his hand towards me. "We'll drop you on our way."
"That won't be necessary." I hear the unmistakable growl of Gabriel Foster's voice just as his hand touches the small of my back. "I'll be taking Isla home."
***
I look at the back of the seat in front of me yet again. The driver had placed my violin case on the front passenger seat before he held the back door open for me.
"I'm guarding it with my life, Isla." Mr. Foster's smile is soft and inviting. "It's a treasure. I had no idea you played the violin."
I had no idea he'd insist that I accept his offer for a ride home.
At first, I refused, telling him that I wanted to spend time with Davis before he moves, but he'd been charming as he persisted. I'd finally agreed when I saw Davis giving me a thumbs-up behind Mr. Foster's back. He may think that the man has ulterior motives for inviting me into the backseat of his chauffeur driven sedan, but I know better. He's curious about my music. It caught him off guard.
"You're remarkable." He presses a button on a console in front of us that brings up a barrier of privacy glass separating us from the driver. "How long have you played?"
"Forever," I say honestly. "I've been playing most of my life."
"You studied violin?"
"I took music classes," I go on quickly, "general music classes that all kids take in school but it was my grandmother who taught me."
"Your grandmother?" His dark eyes slide over my face. "She's a music teacher?"
I rake my hand through my hair before I scratch my chin. "My grandmother was the most talented violinist in the world. She ended her career in Chicago. She taught music after that until..."
He adjusts himself on the seat, bending his knee so he's facing me. "Is she gone, Isla? You speak as though she's passed away."
I bite my lower lip. I don't have this conversation willingly with anyone. The pain of her death might not be as raw as it was the morning I found her in her bed cold and unmoving, but it's still a loss I'll never get over. "Yes, sir. She died."
"I'm sorry to hear that." He reaches down to touch my hand.
I stare at his hand, marveling in how large it is compared to mine. "Thank you, Mr. Foster. I appreciate that."
"Gabriel." He runs his index finger over the top of my hand. "I'd prefer if you called me Gabriel."
The feeling of his finger tracing a path over my skin gives me goosebumps. The sound of his voice touches me in a way that is both unnerving and arousing. "Gabriel. I'll call you Gabriel."
"I'm the first to admit that I have no musical talent at all. My brother inherited all the talent in our family."
"You mean Asher?" I ask without thinking. "Of course you mean Asher. He's everywhere right now."
"He's in Tokyo, right now, on tour." His mouth twitches. "I'm still adjusting to my youngest brother being a rock star."
"I think he's incredibly talented," I offer. "I love his music. I listen to it all the time."
He slides one of his hands over the seat back behind my head, the other jumps to the black leather on the seat next to me caging me in. He's so close that I can smell the scent of his cologne. "Tell me about your birthday, Isla. I heard your friends mention it tonight. What does a woman like you have planned for such a special day?"
I peer out the tinted window at the streets of Manhattan. It's near midnight but the city is still alive. People are walking along the sidewalks, taxis and cars are speeding past us as we drive towards my apartment. "I haven't thought about it."
"There must be something special you'd enjoy? Perhaps an experience you've never had before."
I turn quickly to look at him.
"A woman your age should be experiencing new things." His hand leaves the seat; trailing a slow path up my arm towards my shoulder before it reaches my chin. "The city is filled with many possibilities."
