Page 91 of The Sound of Harmony

Emma blew her nose and wiped her eyes. Then breathed in the stillness of the night. “Thank you,” she said to Mitch.

“I’m parked like a block from here,” he said. “Let me take you home.”

“You’re not going to listen to the rest of the concert?”

“Why would I?”

“What about the afterparty? I thought you were Kendrick’s ride?”

“Not today,” Mitch said. “I don’t know what he did to you, but anyone who made you cry doesn’t deserve a ride.”

That made Emma smile. It was a weak one, but it still counted. “Thank you,” she said again.

They walked in companionable silence to Mitch’s SUV, which was parked on a busy street. He closed her door and then navigated the traffic side to get into the driver’s seat. As soon as he started the engine, the radio came on full blast. He slammed his finger on the button, cutting it off.

“Sorry about that,” he said.

“You really like music,” Emma said.

“Some kinds, yes.”

“I used to like music. I used to like musicians too.” She fumbled in her purse for another tissue.

“Now, now, none of that.”

“I ruined everything.” She should have known better than to sing in public. She swore she’d never do that again, because the moment she did, bad things happened.

“Kendrick ruined it all on his own.” Mitch kept the car in park and twisted his body to talk to her, as if comforting her was more important than driving her home. He reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “If he can’t see what he has, he’s a fool.”

“Do you remember what you said about him the day I met you?” Emma asked. “You called your cousin a thief. You were right.”

“I was talking about the house,” Mitch said. “He called me a few weeks ago. He asked me about listing it.”

“Wow,” Emma said.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“No.” But wasn’t that just like Kendrick? When things got hard, you pulled up stakes and moved somewhere else. Let go of relationships like they never happened. Emma sighed and looked out the window. “I’m sorry I ever met him.”

She was ready to go home, ready to be done with this day, but Mitch hadn’t even put on his seatbelt yet. He leaned toward her, looking like he was trying to close a sale. “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re mad at the whole family. I don’t want to lose you too.”

“You won’t lose me, you oaf,” she said. “I’ll still work for you after—” But she never got to finish that thought because Mitch was across the console dividing their seats, way into her personal space.

She pressed herself against the door but he kept moving forward, one hand on her leg, his shoulder slamming into hers as he tried to kiss her. “What the—Mit—” His lips were on hers, cutting her off.

She flailed and slapped and pushed, trying to get him off her, trying to unbuckle her seatbelt, trying to open the door. Oh God, was the door locked? The door. She needed to open the door. She couldn’t see anything beyond her own panic, couldn’t hear anything beyond her own heartbeat. Mitch’s cologne was in her nostrils and the heat of his skin burned into her. She was trapped for maybe three seconds. She was trapped forever. Where was the damn door handle?

One more hard shove and she was free. Mitch backed off enough for her to unsnap the seatbelt and open the door. She tumbled to the sidewalk. Freedom. Fresh air.

Mitch was out of the car too, and she readied herself to run, but he stayed on his side, pinned between the car and traffic.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he blurted. “I thought you wanted—when you got in my car, I thought you wanted to—I was just comforting you!”

“You prick,” she said. “You knew exactly what you were doing, or trying to do.”

Her mouth tasted foul and she wanted to spit, but instead, she raised her voice over the traffic noise. For once, her words didn’t fail her. She knew what to say and dammit, she was going to say all the words right here, right now.

“You are slime, Mitch Bell. You are a vile man from a family of vile men. I’m going to run away from you, not because I’m scared, but because I don’t have a weapon to hurt you with. I wish I could make you pay. You, and Jonah Dalton, and every man like you. You are on my shit list forever and I hope you burn in hell.”

She clipped down the sidewalk as fast as she could in her high heels. Back toward the safety of Orchestra Hall. Back toward people and noise and light.

She stood near the door while ordering a Lyft to pick her up. She cried all the way home.