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“Hmm.” He picked up his shoes and went out to the living room. Emily followed and watched him finish dressing. “I’m guessing you wouldn’t want to go on a business trip to California with me?”
“Not really.”
“That’s a shame. Sometimes we need to confront our past to gain our freedom in the future.” He leaned over and kissed her. “I won’t push you.” He straightened. “I like you, Emily. A lot. I will help you in any way I can, if you’ll let me.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen several times, then smiled at her. “I’ll see you again soon.”
He left, closing the door softly behind him, and she stared at the door for a long time before standing and heading to the bathroom to take a shower. Or maybe a bubble bath. Then she’d go shopping for some new clothes at her favorite thrift store by her old apartment. She’d only brought home half of her earnings from the previous night, but it was still more than she’d made in one night since she’d started working for Geoffrey.
Thirteen
Mid-morning,after Mark had finished his run and forced himself through the rest of the orchestra music, he sat at the kitchen bar, sipping a cup of coffee between bites of thick bread slathered with rich butter and the special jam sent over by his mother in Germany. Though he’d lived in the US for over ten years, his breakfast choices still leaned in the German direction. He hadn’t been born in Germany, but to American parents on a tiny island in the middle of nowhere. His family had moved to a small town outside of Frankfurt with the help of some friends. His brothers and sister had all been born and raised in that tiny town. Mark grew up speaking both German and English, though English at home. His parent’s language skills had grown over the years, but he still spoke German better than both of them. It hadn’t been uncommon for him to translate for his mother in the shops.
Someone rang the doorbell and Mark checked his phone app to see who was there.
Maestro Pavolini had come to visit.
He offered Maestro a cup of coffee as the older man settled into the comfortable couch near the window, his white hair glowing in the sunlight. “You have such a wonderful old townhouse, Mark,” he said, the slightest hint of Italian accent betraying his country of birth. “You are blessed.”
Mark chuckled as he poured cream into the cup and coffee on top. “You say that every time you come here.” He handed the steaming cup to his mentor and settled on the couch across from him, his own coffee cup in hand. “You want something to eat?”
Maestro laughed and shook his head. “Malina made an enormous breakfast this morning. The grandkids are visiting.”
Mark arched a brow. “Needed someplace quiet to escape to?”
“Retirement is wonderful, but much noisier than I’d expected.” He took a sip of coffee. “Adrianna is visiting,” he added, a twinkle in his eye.
Adrianna was Maestro’s oldest granddaughter, a few years younger than Mark. Very attractive and intelligent. Maestro had been trying to set him up with her for years. “You’d trust me with her?”
“I know you’d do right by her. You should try settling down with someone instead of all these fly-by-night affairs, Mark. Love is a wonderful thing.”
Mark was about to protest when he remembered the girl from the subway. He took a sip of coffee instead.
Maestro raised his eyebrows. “You’ve met someone?”
“No. No, not really. I—” He shook his head. “I saw someone. In the metro lobby yesterday.”
“Sam said he’d found you there.”
“He called?”
“He’s worried.”
“About his paycheck.”
Maestro frowned. “You honestly think he cares more about his paycheck than you?”
Mark sighed. “No. But he’s a mother hen sometimes.”
“That is why I recommended him. He’s good for you.”
Mark pursed his lips.
“You needed someone watching over you.”
“I’m twenty-five!”
Maestro smiled. “I’m sixty-five and still need someone watching over me. Malina does a wonderful job.”
Mark laughed and shook his head. “You old romantic.”
