Page 12 of Passion’s Song

Clarissa signed the form attached to a clipboard, then took the sealed envelope that was handed to her. “Thanks, Ryan. I’ll see you again next week.”

She stared at the blond as he retreated down the hallway, her eyes clearly focused on a certain part of his anatomy.

Clarissa clucked her tongue. “God, I love summer. The khaki pants just don’t fit him as well as those butt-hugging shorts do.” She nodded toward the door. “Follow me. Damien’s on a conference call but he should be done in a minute.”

Upon entering the office, April declined a seat on the white suede-like love seat, choosing instead to stand while she perused the sparse yet elegant lobby area. The receptionist’s desk was a huge semicircle that encompassed most of the small entryway, done in what looked like the aluminum roofing that was used on older houses when April was growing up. It was topped with beautiful jade-tinted frosted glass.

April was a bit surprised by the decor. She’d pegged Damien as one who would prefer rich, dark wood over glass-and-steel ultramodern furnishings. But then it occurred to her that she had not spent enough time with him over the years to know if this was his style or not.

The realization caused a pang of sadness to ring through her. Their lives had turned out so differently from those teenage fantasies she used to indulge in, back when she imagined herself and Damien married with two-point-five kids, living in a nice house in Old Metairie or in Algiers Point. She’d imagined herself as a member of the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra while Damien played football for the New Orleans Saints.

At least she’d had the opportunity to perform as a soloist with the LPO at Gallier Hall years ago. It was the closest she’d come to living out at least one part of those long-ago dreams.

Clarissa disconnected from the call she’d taken the moment they walked into the office.

“Let me buzz Damien for you,” she said. “His conference call should have ended by now.”

“If he’s busy, I can wait. I don’t have an appointment, so I don’t want to infringe on his time if he’s in the middle of something.”

And wouldn’t that be a great excuse to back out of the deal she was preparing to propose?

Clarissa nodded as she spoke into the small microphone attached to her headset.

Moments later, Damien rounded the wall that led to the lobby area.

“Hey,” he greeted April with a curious lift to his brow. “Did I miss a text from you or something?”

“No, no. I’m sorry for not calling first, but I’m hoping I can steal a few minutes of your time.”

“Do you have an answer to the favor I asked for earlier?” he asked, hopefulness pushing away that earlier curiosity.

“I do,” April said. She looked over at Clarissa, who was blatantly hanging on to every word. “Is there somewhere we can go to discuss it?”

Damien’s eyes flashed to his receptionist. “Yeah, sure,” he said. “We can go to my office.”

April followed him into a spacious office done in the same modern furnishings as the rest of the suite. He pointed to a small sitting area. “Have a seat. Can I get you some coffee? Water?”

“No, thanks,” April said.

He poured himself a cup of water from a glass pitcher.

“Okay, so are you going to help me out?” Damien asked.

April clasped her hands and released a deep breath before saying, “Yes, I will.” Relief washed over Damien’s face. “But, there’s a catch,” she tacked on.

His relief turned to suspicion. “A catch?”

“Maybe catch is the wrong word,” she said. “Think of it as an agreement between the two of us. You’ll get what you want, and I will get what I want.”

“Why do I sense a Knight ambush coming on?” Damien asked.

“There is no such thing as a Knight ambush,” April countered.

“Are you serious? You’re the queen of ambushes. Do you remember all those surprise study sessions you used to spring on me? They still give me nightmares.”

“But those study sessions helped you in the end, didn’t they?”

The corner of his mouth curled in that sexy little smile that made April’s stomach flutter.