Playing the Maestro (14 page)

Chapter Twenty

Final Claim

Although Wolf wasn’t on the judging panel, he wasn’t going to miss this concerto competition for the world, even if it meant he had to face a row of board members, judges, and Blake. Taking a deep breath, he walked into Wallsworth Hall. Conversations stopped midword, and everyone turned their heads. Ms. Maxhammer’s wrinkly face was set in a grim expression above her leopard-patterned silk blouse and chunky ebony necklace.

He felt like an executioner standing trial. Annoyance rose in Wolf’s chest.
What has Blake done now?

The personnel manager stood and walked over to Wolf with a smug pursing of his lips. Wolf wanted to bring him down now, calling him out on his missing instrumental parts, but the competition was more important.

“What is the problem?” Wolf met him halfway, wishing the snake would have given him some sort of warning. “The fund-raiser was not a success?”

“No, the fund-raiser was excellent,” Blake muttered under his breath, “despite your disappearance and subsequent absence.”

“If this is about my leaving, I can explain. I had an emergency.”

“No, it’s not about you leaving.” Blake glanced back at the other board members, and they nodded for him to go on. “It’s about Alda Schuhmacher.”

Wolf scratched his head as the mention of her name stirred up bile in his stomach. He’d underestimated her again. All this time he’d thought Blake was the bad guy, but had his ex found a way to pull Blake’s puppet strings? “What has she done now?”

“She’s asked us to return every cent she donated in your honor on the grounds you are cheating on her with our very own flutist, Melody Mires.”

Wolf released a string of German swears. When he was finished, everyone stared at him like he’d gone crazy. He was thankful no one in the room knew what he’d said. “You didn’t give her the money back, did you?”

Blake shifted under his laser gaze. “Usually we don’t return donations, but after what you did, we didn’t want her complaining. The last thing we need right now is bad press. We have a member of the treasury working on the transaction right now.”

“For God’s sake, don’t give it to her.” Wolf glanced over every member of the board. “That woman is a con artist. She’s not my fiancée—she’s my ex. In fact, by hacking into my checking account and ruining my credit, she stole every penny I’d had back in Germany, and she used it to gain publicity at our event in the States.”

She must have sold all of the expensive items she’d bought with his credit card. “That’s my money for Christ’s sake.” Wolf shook his head. “Don’t give her the check. I have the paperwork to prove it.” He could use all of his old credit card statements. He’d already tried to convict her back in Germany, but now that she showed excessive wealth, he had more proof.

Ms. Maxhammer used her cane to stand and address Wolf. He could tell by the crinkles around her mouth this entanglement tested her patience. “Although I wish you would have brought this to our attention sooner, Mr. Braun, I will have someone investigate your claims before we give her anything.”

“Good. I’ll supply the necessary paperwork.”

Just as Wolf started to relax, Blake interjected, “That does not solve our issue with Melody Mires.”

Wolf put his hands on his hips, feeling overprotective. “What about her?”

“Sources tell us that you two are indeed involved, corroborating Alda’s story.”

Wolf was tired of keeping secrets. A hundred people must have seen him looking for her after the dance. There was no going back now. “What I do in my personal life has nothing to do with this orchestra.”

“Doesn’t it?” Blake gave Ms. Maxhammer a knowing look. “We’ll see about that.”

“Hold it.” Wolf pressed a finger to Blake’s chest, making a crinkle in the perfectly pressed fabric. “What about you and your sister? If that doesn’t reek of nepotism, then I don’t know what does.”

Blake lowered his finger and smoothed the wrinkled spot. “The competition is open to
anyone
. Sandra is not applying for a job; she’s entering a concerto competition.”

“Fine,” Wolf said, trying to avoid creating a scene. As much as he wanted to save her, Melody would be on her own against Sandra. She’d have to prove herself with her playing alone, but he believed she could do it without his help.

He walked to the back row and took a seat behind the jury with his heart still racing with adrenaline. The confrontation about his connection with Melody was close. He couldn’t keep their feelings for each other secret forever, but now was not the time. He didn’t want to spoil Melody’s competition. This day was about her and how she played.

He’d saved her life out in the alley, but she’d save him before too long. He had faith in her playing and her ability to make things happen. Now all he needed to do was sit and watch.

…

Melody adjusted her head joint and breathed deeply. She tried not to look at the other contestants in line, all waiting to march into the Wallsworth auditorium and play. So much rested on this one audition, the weight on her shoulders threatened to squash her right into the cracks in the linoleum floor.

Sandra played a perfect note beside her, the sound resonating through her golden flute like angels humming in heaven. Blake’s sister had a body thin as a rail and a face of all perfect edges with no softness, no depth. That’s how she played, as well. If Melody had any chance to win this, she needed to pour her heart out on stage. In terms of training, technique, and her instrument, Melody was already beat.

“Good luck,” one of the violinists offered to Sandra from across the room.

Sandra smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Thank you. But I don’t need it. I’ve been playing this concerto since I was five.”

Melody had seen the video on YouTube many times. But she couldn’t let Blake’s sister win. That would give Blake more power in the orchestra. He’d have more backing to replace Melody, and if Wolf got in the way, he’d try to replace him as well. Basically, her professional life hinged on this one performance. This was way worse than her audition for NEC.

A bead of sweat dripped down her chest. Life would be so much easier if she won. Sandra would scurry back to New York and Melody’s talents would be on display for everyone to see. They could never replace her after winning such an honor. Then, she could enact her plan to secure Wolf’s position as well. Together, they’d be in the orchestra. They may even turn into dear old Mr. And Mrs. Wallsworth.

No pressure.

The back door to the auditorium opened and Blake slithered out. He gestured for his sister to join them. Out of the corner of her eye, Melody saw something she’d never seen him do before. He winked at Sandra as if she’d already won.

That small gesture sent Melody into a panic. Could Blake rig the competition? How much pull with the board did he have?

Every ounce of her body wanted to put her ear to the door to better listen to Sandra, but instead, she blocked all sound and fingered through the first movement in real time as Sandra played the exact same piece in the auditorium beside her.

The door opened once again as she held the final note under her fingers. Sandra had finished faster, which meant her version had a much quicker tempo. That didn’t help Melody’s nerves.

Neither did seeing Blake as he reentered the room with a triumphant blaze in his eyes. He flippantly gestured for her to follow him as if she were as inconsequential as a fly.

Blake didn’t speak as he guided her past the panel to the stairs of the golden-lit stage. Melody scanned the audience for Wolf, and her heart fell to her toes. He’d said he’d be there to listen. Where was he? Her knees shook as she took the steps. Something was off about the entire room.

As she climbed to the stage, Mr. Wallsworth’s white tuft of hair stuck up from the piano.

He smiled, and her nerves melted away. Melody came over to him and whispered, “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“An old-timer like me has a way of coming around now and then.” He winked at her, and unlike Blake’s wink, Mr. Wallsworth’s brought her comfort and confidence. He tapped her hand. “Let’s make some beautiful music, you and me.”

Melody nodded, and when she turned to get started, she spotted Wolf in the back of the auditorium. Her chest filled with relief and joy. He raised his hand and waved, giving her a thumbs-up. Between Wolf and Mr. Wallsworth, she felt as though she was sandwiched by people who believed in her, and she couldn’t let them down.

I can do this.

Mr. Wallsworth began the intro and Melody brought the flute to her lips.

The music surged up inside her, transcending notes and rhythms as pure emotions. Her fingers were light, quick, and sure, and her tone resonated from deep inside her, filling the hall. The concerto sparkled and enchanted, mystified, and reigned triumphant, changing whims with each new phrase. Melody felt as though she’d finally connected to
the
Wolfgang, the man behind the piece, and communicated what he’d meant in a few strokes of ink and quill way back in 1778. Mozart had spoken to her through his music.

When the song ended and Mr. Wallsworth pounded the concluding notes of the piano accompaniment, Melody swelled with accomplishment and pride.

Maybe it was because she’d just had the night of her life, putting everything into perspective, or maybe it was her connection to Mr. Wallsworth and the fact they’d played together so many times at nursing homes, or maybe it was because she’d truly practiced her butt off. Whatever it was, Melody played better than she’d ever played before.

The judges buried their faces in their notes. Only Ms. Maxhammer gave Melody a small nod. Blake dragged in the next contestant, a pianist with wild hair and jittery eyes. Melody’s time to impress the panel and keep her seat in the orchestra was over. She’d done all she could. Her destiny was out of her hands.

“This is it.” Wolf looked down at his phone with wide eyes. Behind him, the brick oven of Angelo’s Pizzeria blazed fiery warmth as a chef shoveled another round pizza dough in. “They’ve chosen a winner.”

The margherita flatbread in front of Melody suddenly looked like a plate full of cheesy grease. Her stomach churned.
Why did I order garlic bread sticks as well?

“Do I want to know?” She pushed the plate across the plastic red-and-white checkered tablecloth.

“Come on, you know you nailed it.” Wolf teased her by nudging her shoulder. It had been two agonizing days since the audition. Melody had checked her e-mail so much she’d asked Wolf to go for pizza just to get out of her apartment and away from her ancient dust box of a computer.

Finally, the moment came and she didn’t want to know. Melody sighed in resignation and sipped her soda. Better know now so she could start planning her life either way. “Go ahead. Open the e-mail.”

Wolf clicked on the app on his phone.

Melody stared. “So?”

His lips curled into a tease. “It’s loading.”

She tapped her plastic fork on the table. He still insisted they sit at the very back of the restaurant in case someone from the orchestra saw them. Melody played along even though their secrecy was hard to maintain. She had to trust he cared about her and would share it in time. “What a time to lose 4G! Can’t we just move to the front?”

“No need. Here it is.”

Wolf’s face grew serious, and Melody’s heart leapt to her throat. Good thing she hadn’t taken a bite of pizza, or she wouldn’t be able to swallow it.

Wolf’s eyes twinkled and a grin spread over his strong boned face. “I’m looking at the winner of Easthampton’s Civic Symphony Concerto competition.”

Melody slapped his arm. “You’re kidding.” Joy burst through her along with a great sense of gratitude for Wolf’s confidence in her abilities.

He turned his phone around so she could see the message. Sure enough, Ms. Maxhammer had sent the announcement, headed by the official seal of the orchestra, the large-nosed profile of Mr. Wallsworth. Melody leaned back in her seat as warm tingles spread all over her. “I can’t believe it.”

Wolf kissed her hand. “You earned it. You worked hard.”

“What about Sandra?”

“Guess she’ll have to find another competition to enter.” Wolf licked his lips and pulled the pepperoni half of the pizza over to him. “Now let’s celebrate.”

A single doubt still nagged at Melody’s mind, but she pushed it away. She didn’t want to spoil the moment by pressing Wolf about when they were going to announce their own news.

…

Wolf sat in the front row of the Wallsworth auditorium, pouring over the score to Mozart’s Concerto in G Major as the members of the orchestra filed in and set up. A couple French horn players blatted out arpeggios backstage, and the older violinists practiced their notes with scratchy bows.

“How’d they get the parts so quickly?” Melody plopped down beside him, placing her flute case across her lap.

Wolf smiled. “Ms. Maxhammer had Blake scour New England for parts. A small orchestra way up in northern New Hampshire agreed to lend them. Blake had to drive four hours both ways to retrieve the music in time for tonight’s rehearsal.”

“Wow, and he did all that for me.” Sarcasm dripped from Melody’s voice. As Blake passed them, she muttered, “Good thing I don’t need my part.”

Blake stiffened, and Melody and Wolf laughed.

Wolf whispered in Melody’s ear. “I caught him looking for your hidden part today before rehearsal.”

“Do you think he knows we’re onto him?”

“Let’s just say I don’t think he’ll be pulling any kind of musical Houdini again anytime soon.”