Page 18 of The Sound of Harmony

Emma laughed. “No one means that literally.”

“So why do they say it?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was rude. What were you about to say?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Now I’m truly sorry, because I truly want to know.”

Emma glanced at the neon jalapenos glowing over the door of Casa Mucho. The tacos she’d ordered would be sitting on the counter, unclaimed and cooling. Let them sit. “I believe we were discussing your semi-retirement, which I’m only asking about because I need to know if you want a home office.”

“Ah,” he said. “Wherever my piano is, that’s where I’m working. For the moment, I’ll be concentrating on composition.”

“No desk?” she asked.

“What would I need a desk for?”

“Probably nothing.” Most of her clients said they wanted a home office and then never used it except as a catch-all for papers they never looked at. “If you have a dining table, that’s enough of a work surface for things like tax prep.”

“Ouch. Taxes. Those are about to get complicated.”

Emma didn’t answer. The truth was, everything was more complicated when you worked for yourself. But he didn’t need to hear that.

“I suppose that after a while you develop systems for paperwork,” Kendrick said.

“I have systems for everything.”

“Of course you do. You wouldn’t leave anything to chance. That’s why you have a business and schmucks like me have to hire you to get our lives in order.” He paused and she heard the babble of other voices in the background, as if he was standing in a crowd. “I’m glad my cousin found you,” he said.

“I’m glad too.” Emma wanted to add several paragraphs of thoughts to that sentence. She wanted to reassure him that a freelance life had many advantages, and that she was sorry about his orchestras, and he didn’t have to worry about his upcoming move, because she’d do everything in her power to make his transition to Cannondale go smoothly.

But instead, she got out of her truck, making sure he could hear the clunk when she shut the door.

“I’m talking too much,” Kendrick said. “I’m sorry I ate up so much of your time.”

“I don’t mind,” Emma said.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because an email would have been more efficient after all.”

“True.”

“But not as much fun.”

Emma’s heart tripped double time. “Also true.”

They wished each other an enjoyable weekend and ended the call.

She leaned against the truck door and looked up at the clear summer sky, fanning her face with her hand to cool the sudden flushed feeling. This is fine. Completely fine.

Did she like him? Yes.

Was she going to do anything about it? Absolutely not.

Kendrick was her client. He was off limits. He was far away. And those were very, very good things, because the last thing she needed was to get mixed up with another musician from out of town.

But talking to him? Getting to know him better? Why not? That was harmless and would add some spice to her days. In the end, it would go nowhere. Kendrick would never have to know.