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“Nah. That was cool.” He glanced out at the filling audience seats again. “I invited someone to the rehearsal today.”
Sandra’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “You have a girlfriend?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“But it’s a woman?”
“Yeah.” He plucked his strings with his left hand. “It’s weird.”
“Just met her, huh?”
“Do you think he’ll put the Dvorák back to normal today?” Mark asked, changing the subject.
She grinned. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll change it so we’re playing the percussion part today.”
Mark couldn’t hold back a laugh. They had gone through three iterations of the rewriting and all had been disasters, at least in Mark’s mind. Nothing could sound like the perfection of the original. It’s why Dvorák was remembered as a legendary composer, and Novak would only be remembered as a mediocre conductor.
He finished going through his scales and frowned as he looked closer at the music that had been placed on his stand before he arrived. Novak had “reimagined” the Dvorák again, changing around the parts so the first violins were now playing the cello part. “Seriously?” He shook his head. “I wish he’d make up his mind.”
Sandra laughed. “Well, he does keep things interesting.”
“What is he thinking?” He glanced out over the concert hall. “Giving this to us at an open rehearsal? Does he want us to embarrass ourselves?” He flipped through the music, growling and grumbling to himself until Sandra nudged him, tapping her wrist.
Mark glanced at his watch and realized he was late tuning. “Shit.” He stood and walked to the podium with a sigh and waited until the musicians had quieted. He nodded to Jeanie, the oboist, so the winds and brass could tune. Then he tuned the strings and took his seat again.
The musicians stood as Maestro Novak emerged from the wings of the stage, arms wide and flashing a flamboyant smile toward the audience. The audience applauded as he took several deep bows.
“This is messed up,” he muttered to Sandra, but smiled and shook Novak’s hand before sitting down. The rest of the musicians followed suit.
Novak turned to the audience and started talking about how he was going to invigorate the musicians and the audience with new sounds mixed with the older, traditional ones.
Mark searched the seats below for Emily’s beautiful face and brown eyes, but she was nowhere to be seen. She’d left their lunch date because of an angry boss. Was she okay? He didn’t like the ache in his chest. Not only from disappointment but also concern.
He reached for his phone but stopped when Novak turned around and smiled at the orchestra. “Metacosmos1.”
Mark sighed and closed his eyes as Sandra pulled out the music. Maybe he’d be able to hear the emotion in it today after talking with Emily.
He hoped.
* * *
Emily wincedas she climbed the wide marble stairs up to the Kennedy Center entrance. She glanced at her watch before pulling open the heavy glass and metal door. She was late. An hour late. Would they let her in?
After the nightmare of Saturday night, she’d slept all day and trudged into her shift Sunday night, only to have Geoffrey take her back to his condo that night again.
At least this time it had only been him. He hadn’t been cruel, just harsh.
She’d woken late and limped back to her condo, intending on going back to sleep, but Mark’s invitation had been too tempting and she’d dragged herself into the shower after swallowing several painkillers. She was glad Geoffrey hadn’t left any bruises that would be visible while she was clothed.
Inside the lobby, a long table with a red tablecloth had programs on it, but the chairs behind were empty. She sighed with disappointment, her shoulders slumping.
What else could she expect? She was late and didn’t have a ticket. Her heart ached as she gazed longingly at the doors that led to the concert hall for a long moment before turning to leave.
“Did you have a ticket for the rehearsal?” an older lady asked as Emily turned away.
Emily shook her head. “No, I—” Mark had invited her but hadn’t told her how she was supposed to get in. “No.” She gave a small shrug and turned away again.
“Are you Emily?”
