“We all need someone to believe in us,” I said. My eyes flicked to Kim and back again. “The SOOK is striving to be a bigger part of the community.”
“Well, we appreciate it. Thanks again. Oh, Xander is getting a little aggressive with those big drums over there. I’ll talk to you more later.” He clapped me on the shoulder and shuffled over to the percussion section.
Warmth filled me. My mind struggled to recall the last time I’d acted in somebody else’s interest. It came up short. For so long, I’d been so caught up in myself and my own needs. I’d been goal-driven, but with blinders: the next big composition, the next big symphony. The SOOK was small. Knoxville was small. But for the first time in a long time, my mind didn’t recoil at the idea of sticking around a little while longer.
My gaze moved around the room and landed back on Kim. Just until the end of the season …
* * *
After the kids from Ford’s Fosters left, I hovered around, waiting for an opportunity to talk to Kim. Several of the musicians seemed eager to speak with me. It was surprising, though I supposed I had always rushed to and from our rehearsals without much chitchat. Making conversation was an exercise in futility. Usually, people either wanted to talk about themselves or about my mask; I was interested in neither. Admittedly, the conversations today weren’t too excruciating. My focus kept being pulled to Kim, who took her time packing up her cello. I kept trying to get her attention, but to no avail.
I was eager to know what she thought of today. She seemed to be avoiding me, though I wasn’t sure why. I had hoped that the day would show that I was open to her suggestions. I was desperate to hear how she thought it went.
All that changed when the world’s most punchable face stepped in front of me.
“Chagny,” I said.
“Devlin. That’s what you go by now, right?”
I was too stunned by the offhand comment to respond. I stood frozen in place. What had he meant by that? Nobody at the SOOK knew of my life before Devlin.
“Or would you prefer Maestro?” So that was what he meant. I took a breath in through flared nostrils.
“Yes,” I said.
He went on, a smug smile plastered to his face. “You should call me Roderick.” He adjusted the cuffs of the suit he wore. “We’re going to see each other a lot more. I’m sure.” He glanced to Kim, who’d just finish packing up. “If you’ll excuse me.” He bumped me as he passed.
I glared. I wouldn’t excuse him. I was about to grab him by the collar and kick him the hell out of my rehearsal space.
“Ah, Maestro, might we have a word?”
I took a steadying breath before I turned around. I had been riding so high after our performance; now I crashed back to earth.
“I’m busy,” I said.
“I understand. We’ll only be a minute,” Dick said it affably, but there was no choice in the matter.
“Let’s go to your office,” Andy suggested.
I glanced one last time to see that Kim had set her cello case down and stood to hug Chagny. My lip curled.
“Why is Chagny always here?” I asked as soon as my office door shut behind me.
“Mr. and Mrs. Chagny are proud donors. Their son is welcome anytime.” This was from Andy.
“It was a private rehearsal,” I said.
“About today’s rehearsal …” Andy said.
“You didn’t have permission to bring those students in,” Dick said.
“I didn’t realize I needed permission.”
“Of course you did.” Dick sputtered. “There are waivers to sign. Instruments to secure. Had we known they were so …”
“Urban?” the other offered.
“Right. We would have put the instruments away. To have them walking around, touching them. That’s risking thousands of dollars. There’s a liability there. The musicians should have been aware beforehand.”
