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“I said yes.”
He beamed. “I’m so glad.”
“David said you have friends taking care of the Café.”
Mark glanced at David. “You told her?”
David shrugged. “She asked.”
“I do,” Mark said with a nod. “No one will ever be hurt in that place again.” Something vibrated in his jacket pocket and he sighed. “I have to get inside.” He leaned down and kissed Emily on the lips. “See you after?”
She nodded. “I can’t wait to hear you play again.”
He chuckled. “You’ve heard me playing all week!”
“It’s different with an orchestra.”
He shook his head, grinning. “You’ll be sick of me soon enough.”
“Never.”
The two men shook hands, and Mark kissed her once more before heading around the back of the theater and disappearing into the shadows.
“I suppose that means we should be heading inside, too,” Emily said, grinning.
“Yes, boss,” David said with a laugh.
Emily giggled. He’d started calling her that yesterday when she told him it was time to go do something. She liked this new life of hers and was so grateful it wouldn’t have to end once she was back in DC.
They started walking inside and a thought occurred to her. “David?”
“Yes?”
“Will I make enough to have my own place? I mean, nothing special, but... my own place to live?”
“Of course.”
She skipped and grinned, making David laugh.
Once they reached the doors, she handed the usher their tickets and they went their separate ways to find their seats. Tonight, the LA Symphony was playing several of her favorites, including the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto in D Major, the piece she’d played at her audition and Mark had played at the open rehearsal in DC. It didn’t pain her heart to think about hearing it again. The music only held hope for her in her heart. The pain of her past had dissipated in the few days she’d been here.
She smiled and sighed as she climbed the ramp up to the second level where she could get to her seat.
“Miss Parker!”
She paused, her mind taking a moment to recognize her real name, and turned to see a female usher wearing a maroon suit walking toward her. “Yes?”
“Mr. Pierce asked me to bring you backstage.”
“Mark did? I just saw him outside.”
“He wants to talk to you again briefly before the concert.” The woman smiled.
Emily looked around. Why had the usher referred to her as Miss Parker? Why would Mark call her that? She bit her lip, uncertain of why this didn’t sit right in her chest. “I—”
The usher leaned in. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this and ruin the surprise, but he has a big bunch of roses backstage for you.”
The woman turned and walked toward a side door. Without complete confidence, Emily followed slowly, looking around for anyone she knew. She locked gazes with her father’s assistant, but she couldn’t ask him. He’d been cold to her all week.
