“Could you not lay into me? I’m exhausted.” I rubbed my eyes until white spots danced in my vision. I grabbed the beer he nudged me with and leaned back against the counter.
“You’re exhausted?” Wes clinked my beer. “You just made Dr. Thurston drive all the way up here to your creepy mansion by the lake, just to find out she was tired and needed food. That man’s too old for this. What’s this really about? Is she the reason you’re back here?”
“He lives five minutes away. Don’t be so dramatic.” I pulled the gaiter mask down under my chin and swallowed four deep gulps of beer. After wiping my mouth on my sleeve, I said, “I told you why I’m back.”
“Yeah. You did. How will staying through a season at the SOOK prove you’re hirable?”
“The last three symphonies fired me for my temper, right? Just ask anyone.” I glanced to the side. “I need to show I can play well with others.”
“And what’s with this cellist?” He shook his head. “There’s something here I’m not buying.”
I picked at the label on my beer bottle and debated unloading on him.
“It’s gonna break Ma and Dad’s heart if you up and leave again with no warning.” He leaned on the counter next to me and crossed his ankles. “The girls too.”
“That’s dirty. You know I’m defenseless against my nieces’ dimples.”
He smiled and I saw a copy of my own face. Or at least my face when I had smiled. In front of actual people. Mask free. Wes had the same almost-black eyes and matching dark curls, though he kept his hair trimmed short. We shared the same intense glare that our mom said could get us out of anything as kids. The difference was Wes wielded his with an easy smile to charm, and I used mine with a frown to intimidate.
“Can you take off the hat? At least you pulled down the frickin’ mask.” He gestured to my face. “I can’t even remember what you look like.”
“Like your reflection. But better looking.” I cleared my throat. “I can’t. If she comes down—”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” He cracked open two new beers against the counter like any good ol’ boy learned to do by the age of fifteen. “You built this beautiful home and you’re hardly ever here. Short visits only. Now, you’re back for at least six months and you’re telling me this has nothing to do with the woman currently sleeping in your guest room?”
I swallowed. It was complicated. She herself didn’t know of our connection in the past and if I brought it up too soon, it might push her away. I would need to talk to her first. Eventually. I set down the beer to wipe my palms on my pants before picking it up again.
“I needed to be back home and back in these mountains to feel inspired. To finish something through to the end. Kim, that’s her name, is going to help me. Though she goes by Christine now, actually.”
“Okay.” Wes shook his head and blinked rapidly like he was trying to make sense of everything.
“I heard her practicing after rehearsal a few times.” I explained. “She has incredible talent. But it’s not about her.” I held his gaze.
His eyes narrowed. He wasn’t buying it but sensed I wasn’t saying any more about her.
“What’s that other guy’s deal? The one hovering over Kim’s mom?”
“Roderick Chagny.” My voice was heavy with distaste. “I’m not sure why he’s back. I don’t like it.”
“I don’t trust him. Too charming.”
“Said the pot about the kettle.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m sincere though. I can’t help it.” Wes’s eyes drifted over as I spoke. “Wait. Chagny … I know that name.”
“His parents are rich.” I forced cool indifference into my voice. “Big donors to the SOOK performance center.”
“How would I know any of that? Wait.” Wes snapped his fingers. “He was that kid that you hated from camp.”
“You can’t remember your wedding anniversary, but you can remember some kid a lifetime ago?”
He threw his arm around my neck. “I remember people that mess with my little bro.” He tugged off my hat to give me a noogie before I could stop him. He was two and a half solid inches shorter than me and had gained a post-football season gut about fifteen years ago, but he never passed on an opportunity to show me he was the older brother. I pushed him off and put my hat back in place.
“He didn’t come after me,” I growled. “He just got under my skin. I was a counselor when he was there, and his parents’ wealth made him untouchable.”
“Didn’t he do something? Some drama?” Wes asked.
“Not officially,” I mumbled. “He managed to never get caught doing anything. He’s just one of those people. Everybody loves him. He says just the right things. But I would always catch him in these little lies. For no reason. Always claiming something that was small, almost harmless. But blatant, pointless lies.”
