Page 21 of The Sound of Harmony

“Because it’s my job?” Emma said. Someone was playing Fur Elise on a concert grand at the end of the row. She veered off in the other direction.

“You subcontracted the estate sale and the deep clean, but not this?” Brooke inhaled sharply through her nose, as if she was trying to sniff out answers. “Who is this guy?”

“I told you, he’s a client.”

“I don’t think you told me enough,” Brooke said.

“His name is Kendrick Bell. He plays flute. He’s also a composer of classical music and he’s scored a couple of movies. He’s about our age. Seems nice.”

“A musician? Oh my.”

“Not like…” Not like Jonah. Emma didn’t have to finish the sentence. Brooke knew about Emma’s ex-husband, or at least as much as Emma was willing to tell. The rest, she probably got from the internet. Jonah was a big enough name in country music for the gossip machine to go into high gear when she’d left him, and even higher gear when the court paperwork had become public. Domestic violence always got clicks on any website that ran with the story.

Emma had divorced herself from the country music scene when she divorced Jonah. She threw away her CDs, deleted her playlists, and never listened to the radio. She didn’t listen to music of any kind anymore. It was strange to think that it had once been such a big part of her world. That was a lifetime ago, a different Emma.

She moved over to a Steinway and took some measurements.

Brooke held the other end of the tape. “I take it this guy is different.”

“Very.” Both men were confident and outgoing, but that’s where their similarities ended. Jonah was a serious perfectionist, whose moods turned dark when he didn’t get his way. He was the kind of brooding alpha man that women fawned over—women who didn’t have to share a house with him, that is. Kendrick, on the other hand, seemed easygoing and impulsive and laughed at everything—especially himself.

“And he’s moving here with his family?” Brooke asked.

“By himself. He’s single.”

“Got it,” Brooke said. “He’s nice, talented, financially stable, and he’s single. The careful piano shopping is starting to make sense.”

Emma smoothed her hands across the wood grain of the Steinway she was measuring, deliberately not making eye contact with Brooke. Her bestie had a talent for reading people. It was like she could smell emotions. “The careful piano shopping is because the house has a ridiculously small entryway and we need to fit the piano through the door.”

“Uh-huh. I need to find out more about this Kendrick Bell.” Brooke’s phone was already in her hand, and it only took her a few seconds to find his picture. “Is this him?”

The photo was a publicity still. Kendrick wore a loose white shirt, almost like a pirate, and held his flute at a jaunty angle. He looked at the camera with an amused expression, as if he was about to tell a joke. Emma couldn’t help but smile in response.

“I get it now.” Brooke turned the phone toward herself. “I mean, look at him.”

“And that’s all I’m doing.” Emma handed her the end of the tape measure. “Just looking. I barely know him. I’ve met him exactly one time.”

Brooke grinned at her. “And you’ve talked to him…”

“Three times? Maybe four.”

“Maybe?”

“It was four.”

Brooke let go of her end of the tape measure and it snapped back into place, stinging Emma’s fingers.

Emma shook out her hand. “The conversations weren’t long. Mostly business.”

“Business, huh?”

“Mostly. He has a beautiful speaking voice.” She was admitting too much, but she couldn’t help it. “It’s deep, with a lot of resonance. But on top of that, there’s something pure.”

“Pure?”

“Fresh. Clear,” she said, putting it into terms Brooke could understand. “Like the air after a rainstorm.”

Emma remembered every syllable of every phone call—the initial one when he’d first made contact, the one where they coordinated schedules, the one about the estate sale, the quick one on Friday to double check an email. They hadn’t talked about anything important that time, just what furniture he was bringing. So why did she replay that particular conversation over and over in her mind, with a warm feeling in her chest each time?