“People, yes. Crowds, not so much.” She blushed. “I don’t know…”
“Yes, you do. I can see it in your eyes. You want to. How many times in your life have you had this much support? I’m guessing not many. Go for it. Show off. You’ve got talent unlike any I’ve ever seen. You deserve every bit of recognition you get.” He rested his hand on her shoulder and turned her toward the piano. He slid his fingers to her lower back and urged her forward. “I’ll stand right beside you. I can’t wait to hear the composition. Play, my beautiful, talented Clara.”
The color in her face deepened. “I can’t believe you talked me into this. I’ll get even with you.”
He chuckled. “You do that. Come on now, I want to hear your creation. Everyone does.”
“Fine,” she huffed. He knew she wasn’t serious. Her fake pique was covering her happiness over the surprise party he’d planned, and her secret desire to show off.
“I’ll play a scale or two to warm up. The contracted number is quite complicated. I can’t go into it cold.”
As they had on other occasions when Zane listened, the scales slowly morphed from rote to increasingly more complex patterns. Then, her hands fell still. “Okay, here we go.”
Quiet, barely audible notes rang out. More solo notes followed. A brief pause and a clash of discordant notes sent a shiver down his spine. Light trilling notes ebbed and flowed increasing in complexity as Clara played. No wonder a movie wanted this. Emotions ran through him, changing with the music. The piece was emotionally charged and made his heart ache and soar. She played and played; he estimated the piece lasted close to fifteen minutes. Finally, it faded away the opposite of how she began.
The room was silent. Dead silent.
All at once, pandemonium erupted, and the room exploded with claps and cheers.
Behind him, someone whispered, “Holy crow, that was amazing. I’ve never heard anything like that.”
Clara stood and turned toward him. A huge smile wreathed her face, except for the lone tear beneath her right eye. “Was it okay?” Her voice trembled.
“Okay? It was freaking amazing. Stupendous. Incredible.” He poured his heart into the words, hoping to convince her, to remove any lingering doubts she might have. “You should be a concert pianist, not composing in secret. I’m speechless.”
“You don’t sound speechless,” she teased. “And I’m not that good but thank you. I love composing and playing. But I’m not much for playing what other people tell me to.” She grinned. “That takes away any desire to try out for the symphony, not that I’ve got the skills anyway. Thank you for this party. I can’t tell you what it means that you organized this for me, a woman you barely know.”
“We’ve been living together for weeks. I feel like I’m getting to know you. We can chat about that later. For now, go. Enjoy your party. This is your celebration, not mine.”
She wrapped her arms around him for the second time. Suddenly the room was too hot and his throat tight. He hugged her back, wishing they could stay in each other’s arms forever. He’d give anything to be alone with her right now. Sitting side by side on the couch. Hand in hand. Discussing their days. Maybe sharing a kiss or two before heading off to bed. Together.
Whoa.He needed to reign in the train of thought before it derailed into a disaster. But damned if he didn’t want to get to know her better. Emotionally, spiritually, and physically. It was too bad he was headed back to the city. He couldn’t recall meeting a woman who made him care so deeply.
Take right now for instance. He’d rather be here, helping her celebrate, than working on the book which was his reason for being in town to start with. She was so sweet and refreshing to be around, she was like a drug. A high with no negative side effects except for the urge to ditch his life in the city and move to Coyote Creek.
He was decades too young to retire, but most of his work required travel. With internet, on-line meetings, and digital communication, he could do his job from anywhere. It seemed early in their friendship to be making that type of decision, or even considering it. He’d have to settle for some strategically located mistletoe and a few stolen kisses.
