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“Hi. This is Evolet Grey. I’m calling about my audition.”
Damon stood in the middle of an empty warehouse-like building in Queens. Floors gleamed underfoot. Massive fan blades swirled in lazy circles. Newly installed lights lit up the space, including the upgraded bathrooms and employee breakrooms installed in the back. Offices had been added, including one for the plant foreman at the top of a flight of stairs with a bank of windows that would overlook the manufacturing of parts for Royal Air’s luxury jets.
His tour had included designating a primary manufacturing site from one of Bradford Global’s numerous properties. Come next Monday, it would be filled with contractors installing equipment, a team from human resources ready to oversee the massive hiring that needed to happen to stay on schedule, and cameras from the public relations department to document everything.
It was Bradford Global’s biggest triumph in the history of the company. And Damon still felt empty. Gone was the pride that had previously filled his chest. The bone-deep satisfaction he usually experienced as he completed a tour of a facility before it started a project was absent.
All he could think about, standing inside the cavernous building, was that there was no one to share it with.
He walked across the floor, footsteps echoing off the soaring ceiling. For so long Bradford Global had been his family, his purpose. He controlled the outcomes, the successes and losses with what he invested in the company and in the people who worked for him. Any time he had felt that emotional tug, the subtle urge to get involved beyond the surface with someone, all he had to do was think back to the depths he’d sunk to in the weeks after his parents’ deaths. The nights he’d drunk himself into a stupor, waking up on the floor of his bathroom while pain screamed through his head. The days he’d spent in the courthouse pews at the trial for his parents’ killer, barely keeping his rage in check as he’d watched a scrawny kid with floppy hair sit behind the desk with his head bowed.
The grieving that had followed. The slow, painful journey to reigning himself back under control. The welcome relief of focusing on work, on throwing himself into working for his family’s company and carrying on his father’s legacy. The small allowances he’d made for himself to experience gratification with each achievement as Bradford Global had climbed higher and higher.
Alone had been safe. Alone had been his choice.
Now it was just lonely. Without someone to share with, withoutEvolet, he felt hollow. His fascination with her might have started with physical attraction. But it had so quickly bloomed into something more. Something he now knew, and accepted, as love.
He was thirty-three years old, and he was in love for the first time.
Slowly, he turned in a circle, imagining what it would be like to bring her here. She would pepper him with questions, want to know the how and the why and the when. He would soak up every moment, proud and happy knowing he had someone in his life who cared about the company, its people, its mission.
He’d hurt her. More than once. But he loved her. They had brought out the best in each other. He hadn’t overcome everything he had in his life to give up now.
With determination twining through his veins, he pulled out his phone.
“Julie? I need you to do something for me.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THELANTERNSLININGthe sidewalk cast a golden glow over trees flush with green leaves. Warmth lingered in the air, a pleasant heat that promised long nights, relaxation and the freedom that came with the onset of summer. People walked along Center Drive as it sloped up toward the bridge that overlooked the Central Park Carousel.
Evolet clutched the handle of her cello case tighter. It had been just shy of a week since Damon had done exactly as she’d asked and walked out of the hospital. A week that she hadn’t heard from him. Not that she could blame him, she reminded herself sternly as she walked at a brisk pace past a playground. He’d done exactly as she’d asked. It was up to her to offer the olive branch.
Wednesday, she told herself firmly.
Her make-up audition was Tuesday. And then she would contact him.
Butterflies fluttered in her chest. She’d been torn on whether she should contact him sooner. But she had finally decided to wait until after the audition. She wanted to tell him that not only had he been right to challenge her but that she’d done it. Even if he told her he couldn’t return her love, even if things were truly over, she wanted him to know the difference he’d made in her life.
Waiting had turned out to be a wise choice. The week had flown by. If she wasn’t in Constanza’s room playing, she was in the park or the Apprentice Symphony’s practice room. She’d swallowed her nerves and reached out to Ashley and some of the other musicians, who had responded as if they’d been best friends for years and came to listen and critique her playing. More than once she’d turned away so they didn’t see just how deeply moved she was by their support and burgeoning friendship.
She’d practiced the pieces on the audition list until concertos infiltrated her dreams. She hummed the melodies on the subway, the sidewalk, even in the grocery store until she’d seen a woman slowly sidle away from her in the produce aisle. No sooner had she decided that morning to take the day off than her phone had pinged with an email request from her website. A man named Charles was proposing at the Central Park Carousel and wanted her to play.
Her chest had tightened. Vivid memories had washed over her, standing so closely she’d felt the heat emanating from his body, soaked in his handsome profile lit up by the lanterns and carousel lights. Remembered how quickly her heart had pounded as an attraction she had never experienced nor expected had settled over her skin until her limbs had been heavy with the weight of her need.
She’d nearly ignored the email. But, she had decided after a few minutes of staring morosely into her tea, it was exactly the distraction she needed. The carousel had long been a source of enjoyment for her. Regardless of how things turned out with Damon, their walk that night had been an incredible moment in her life. One day, if she was fortunate enough to have a family of her own, she would take them to ride the carousel.
She wouldn’t let the bleak moments take away her joy. Not anymore.
The carousel came into view. The lights were on, but the speakers that normally played the majestic music that accompanied the rise and fall of the horses were silent. No crowds of kids waiting excitedly outside the ticket booth, no parents armed with cameras.
Because of a barrier, she realized as she drew closer. Crowd-control barriers had been erected at the three sidewalk intersections that led to the carousel, with a security guard standing near each one. Signs hanging from the silver steel proclaimed:Carousel closed for private event. Unlimited free rides to the public beginning at eight p.m.
Her eyebrows shot up. The mysterious Charles had paid triple her normal fee, another incentive for her to accept the job, including a briefSorry for the late noticenote on his booking. Money was obviously no concern if he had rented the entire carousel for an hour and paid for the public to ride as much as they wanted the rest of the night.
She gave her name to one of the guards, who waved her through. She walked up to the carousel, her heels clicking against the pavement.
“Hello?”
