“I need to check my schedule.” Though I already knew it. It was Saturday, so swim, practice, and a free afternoon, which on this Saturday happened to include a SWS meeting.
“Your schedule was cleared.” His gaze flicked to the side then back to me.
I was beginning to feel the smallest hint of irritation. For many years, I’d let my parents and therapists make my choices for me. I’d grown to rely on it. But here was a new person in my life that was deciding things for me. The choice to accept his offer was mine. Even though it caused me panic, it was mine.
“I don’t remember okaying that,” I said.
“You were there.” He cleared his throat and his hands started to ball. His own irritation was obviously growing. But what right did he have to be annoyed when I was the one whose life had to change?
“Were my eyes open? Was I snoring? Was a tiny dribble of drool leaking from my mouth? Because those are all strong indications that I was, in fact, not capable of making a decision.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “It’s one day.”
I muttered. “What about my SWS meeting? That was supposed to be at three. At my house.”
“What organization is that?” Again, his gaze flicked to the side, avoiding me. Almost like he felt guilt. “I didn’t know about that.”
I sucked my teeth as I thought. “Mm, it’s a book club of sorts. But more than that.”
I propped my hands on my hips. I wasn’t exactly sure how to explain that we were all Jethro Winston’s exes and we got together to drink and talk shit about him as an excuse to try different activities. It was harmless fun, but admittedly, from the outside some saw us as a bunch of bitter rejects.
Devlin wiped his palms down his jeans as he stood. “I’ll take you home. I thought that—”
“Wait.” I stepped closer to him. I wasn’t sure what changed my mind. Maybe it was the flash of hurt that crossed his eyes. “I just need more time to decide. I’ll have a cup of coffee and think, okay? We will practice today, and I’ll decide?”
His glare returned. His shoulders bunched. “What’s to decide? Other qualified people would love this opportunity.”
“It’s a big decision. It’ll take time, commitment. I just need to think.” I was bristling too. “If other people are better suited, then why do you want me?” It was the question that had been burned into my mind since the beginning. Why me? Carla was far more qualified that I was. Or even Barry. I would have thought it was the solo that sold him, but that happened after he approached my parents. None of this made any sense.
“I didn’t say you weren’t good enough.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “You just lack practice. Hence the request for additional practice on the weekends.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“It won’t be every weekend. We can break if we have a performance or a holiday, but we only have eight full weekends remaining. My house is large enough to accommodate you if that’s the issue. My staff as well.”
My eyebrows shot up involuntarily. I hadn’t seen any evidence of anybody else. My parents were wealthy. I knew all too well that I grew up with privileges that few people enjoyed. But we didn’t have staff. Was I in a Turkish soap opera?
“You have staff?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Wow, conducting pays. Who knew?” I shook my head. “Okay, so.” I cleared my head and got back down to business. “Hypothetically, the plan going forward would be I come here on the weekends?”
“Saturday and Sunday mornings. As the schedule allows.”
That was a lot of time to spend with him. I’d have to learn to keep my curiosity locked down. I still had so many questions, but Devlin didn’t seem like he was going to answer them. He was so closed off. I needed answers, but I only got anger or deflection when I pushed.
“And then by September, you think you’ll have finished theSmokey Mountain Suite? How do I help?” I asked.
“I’m stuck on the cello solo in the second movement.”
I waited for him to explain more but that didn’t happen. “You just need someone to play it?”
He hesitated but after a moment said, “Yes. I’ll need you to play through it so I can make tweaks. But it’s more than that. This composition is my crowning achievement. It will put me in the same league with the biggest contemporary composers. It will ensure I have a career no matter where I go. It will—” He scratched under his mask. “It’s very important.”
“Great,” I said. “So no pressure.”
Chapter 11
