Playing the Maestro (9 page)

Chapter Twelve

Near Death’s Door

Melody dreaded rehearsal more than doing her taxes, and she had enough odd jobs and alternate incomes to claim for three people, never mind one.

Just pretend nothing happened and play your part.
But it sounded so much easier than it was. Just entering the stage made her hyperventilate. That was never good when you needed your full lungs to play a high C. Worst of all, she hadn’t been able to focus on her practicing, so she wasn’t the most prepared, either.

“Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” Carly stared at Melody as she plopped into her seat.

“Oh, I’m fighting a small cold.” Melody rubbed her nose.

“A cold? In the middle of June?”

Suddenly her chair had turned into the hot seat. Melody’s legs stuck to the plastic underneath. She picked the wrong day to wear her short shorts. But a little looking-good revenge after a breakup couldn’t hurt. She shrugged. “Could be allergies.”

Carly soaked her reed and cast a glance at her friend’s long, bare legs. “That’s one way to deal with the lack of AC.”

“All my other shorts were dirty.” Melody kept her eyes on her music, pretending to riffle through the pieces.

“Mm-hm. Haven’t heard from you lately. Been out on some late nights?”

Wow, Carly is nosy today.
Melody pulled down the edge of her shorts, thinking maybe her revenge fantasy was a bad idea. “No. Just practicing for the concerto competition.” Melody resisted the urge to wince, wishing she’d been doing more practicing and less romancing.

“Good, because I was so worried about those staccatos in movement two.” Carly’s voice dripped with sarcasm. She nudged her shoulder. “All joking aside, something up?”

Melody hated how her friend seemed to have ESP, especially tuned to dating. Carly always knew when Melody had kissed someone, and her friend didn’t believe in the don’t-kiss-and-tell policy.

“My niece got rushed to the emergency room the other night. She’s fine, but it was a big scare for my sister and me.” She hated using Violet as an excuse. But it was partially true.

Carly’s mouth dropped, along with her haughty attitude. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Is she going to be okay?”

“Yeah, it’s asthma stuff. My sister’s keeping an eye on her.”

“Gosh. Poor little thing.” She stuck her reed in her oboe. “Should I send a card?”

“It’s okay. They’re handling it great. It seemed to scare me worse than her.”

“That’s because you’re a caring aunt, sweetie.”

“I try.” Melody settled into her seat, feeling as though she’d been spared Carly’s laser gaze for the time being.

Wolf took the podium, and his eyes traveled right down to Melody’s bare legs. He took in an almost imperceptible gulp of breath and his eyes flashed wide before dropping to his score.

Hot damn!
Melody gloated as she assembled her flute.
Take that, Mr. Let’s Just Be Colleagues.

Melody’s smiled wiped right off her face when she turned to Carly. Her friend gaped like she’d just seen him blow her a kiss. “Wait a sec. Is there something going on between you and the conductor?”

Blake chose that moment to enter the stage. Melody squirmed, wishing her music stand could go up three inches further. She’d told Carly everything about her life ever since their college days, so she wasn’t sure she could get away with hiding this whopper of a secret.

With Blake’s fine-tuned ears, she had to try.

“What? The conductor and me? That’s ridiculous.” Melody picked up her flute and played the loudest note she could, signaling to Carly the conversation was over. Then, she launched into her Taffanel and Gaubert exercise number four, which should take at least twenty minutes from start to finish.

Carly grabbed the end of Melody’s flute and pulled it from her mouth. “No one plays Taffanel and Gaubert for no reason. I’ve been your best friend for the last ten years. I know when you’re hiding something. Now spill.”

Melody glanced at Blake. He picked at a piece of lint on his shirt.
Now would be a good time to ask for the tuning pitch.
Carly couldn’t talk with her reed in her mouth and the violinist just sat there inspecting his outfit.

Carly tapped her foot. “So?”

“I can’t talk right now.” Melody brought her flute to her mouth. “I need to practice. The concerto competition is coming up.”

“Sure.” Carly spoke over Melody’s scales. “Leave your best friend in the dark. Guess I’m not as important as your new fling.”

Anger, embarrassment, and guilt ripped through Melody as she raced around her scales. Carly had been her most loyal friend; they’d weathered everything together. Didn’t she know her well enough to read her signals? Now, this one secret date had gotten between them. Melody could never tell Carly, and Carly would always wonder.

And it didn’t even matter! Her one-night relationship with Wolf had come and gone like a heartbeat, so it wouldn’t leave a path of destruction following her for the rest of her career with the Civic Symphony. She hated herself for liking Wolf, and she hated Wolf for asking her out. They both should have known better.

Melody didn’t speak to Carly for the rest of rehearsal. She could have sworn her friend played two cents flat on all their octaves just to annoy her. She had to jam her flute against her lower lip to blow down enough to compensate. After the last note rung throughout the hall, Carly picked up her oboe and stormed off stage, which hit Melody right in the gut. Usually, they walked to their cars together.

Melody cleaned the inside of her flute, not even bothering to wipe the fingerprints off. She scurried down the front aisle and saw Wolf standing and talking to Blake by the main entrance.

That’s one party I don’t want to crash.

She turned around and weaved her way through the exodus of people and cases, choosing the back exit. Sure, she had to go through two side alleys to get to the main street, but she’d rather take her chances than have to face either of them.

Blake would sense the tension between her and Wolf. He was too into himself to notice some things, but he wasn’t blind as a bat.

As she shuffled down the steps, a shady figure cast a long shadow in the dimly lit alley between the Dumpster and an old parked car without tires. Melody considered going back in, but the figure didn’t move, so she picked up her pace and walked by.

“Spare some change, miss?”

He stepped out into the moonlight, standing between her and the steps leading to the exit that she’d come out of. The man was younger and meatier than she originally thought, looking more like a thug than a homeless street person. He wore a plaid shirt with the arms torn off and ripped jeans with dark stains running down the front. His shaved head glowed in the moonshine.

“No, sir,” she muttered and increased her pace. Sure, she felt bad, but she couldn’t be whipping out her purse in a dark alley.

Relief hit her as she turned the corner and caught sight of the brightly lit main street.
Just a few more steps.

Another man, this one leaner with long, greasy, dark hair and wearing a leather vest with nothing underneath, leaned on the brick wall. By now, she wished she’d stayed and ran into Wolf
and
Blake.

“That’s a nice bag you’ve got there.”

He pointed to her leather flute case strapped over her shoulder. It wasn’t a golden flute like Sandra’s, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t expensive. Her parents had bought her the solid silver, handmade Haynes flute in high school. But it wasn’t insured against theft.

She’d have to walk by him to get onto the street. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw the bald thug step into the alley behind her. He licked his lips and suggestively raised an eyebrow.

Melody’s heart sped up.
How could this be happening?
Just a moment ago, she was worried about
being embarrassed. Now she worried about being dead.

The lean, greasy-haired man reached for her strap, and Melody yanked her flute away. She shoved him back and desperately bolted around him. The street was only steps away when he pushed her forward. She went flying, and her face hit the cement with a startling crack. Her bags fell on top of her, knocking the air out of her lungs.

Melody turned on her back, feeling hot blood ooze down the side of her head. Both men stood over her, gloating. She wanted to smack them in the face or kick their balls until their bodies crumpled up, but dizzying stars blossomed across her vision. She tried to pull herself up, and pain exploded down her neck.

She panicked, breathing in and out in fast spurts.
What if
I’m paralyzed?
Sandra will have an empty seat to fill, all right.

That thought was quickly overshadowed by memories of her night with Wolf. She should have kept kissing him after Ms. Maxhammer’s doppelganger walked away. If she was going to end up in a Dumpster a week later, her job wouldn’t have mattered, and she could have had the night of her life.

The lean man crouched down and ran a finger along her cheek. “Should have given me the bag, sweetheart.” He pulled her flute from her arm.

The other man grabbed her foot and pulled her further down the alley.

This is it. I’m dead.

The finality of the moment stole her breath away. It had happened so fast. She finally understood how life could turn on the head of a pin.
Oh, Laini, will you ever forgive me?

Out of nowhere, the man dropped her foot and fell to the ground with a
thud
. Melody tilted her head to the side. The other man screamed and his forehead hit the brick wall.

She turned her head despite the pain. Wolf stood over her, rubbing his fist. He moved to punch the leaner man again, but the thief dropped her flute and ran. The bald man was out cold at her feet.

Wolf kneeled beside her with concern lighting his eyes on fire. “Mel. Mel! Are you okay?”

She blinked, then the world went black.

Bright lights. Beeping. The murmuring of gentle voices.

I must be in heaven.

Melody opened her eyes and saw Wolf’s gorgeous face leaning over her. “She’s awake!” He glanced across her bed at a middle-aged woman wearing scrubs with polka dots, like a clown.
No, not a clown. A nurse.

The woman leaned over, placing a hand on her forehead. “I’ll get the doctor.”

“Doctor?” Melody struggled to sit up.

Wolf pressed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Stay there and rest. You’ve have a rough night.”

The surroundings came into focus. A small TV hung from the corner of the room. Plaid curtains draped over a far window. A painting of a hilly landscape hung on the wall. Beside her, a heart monitor—her heart monitor—beeped.

White sheets covered her body. Someone had put the ugliest tube socks she’d ever seen on her feet.

“Where am I?”

“Southhampton Hospital.” Wolf slipped his hand into hers. “Do you remember anything that happened?”

Melody thought back to the men in the alley trying to take her flute. A vision of Wolf standing over her like some archangel surfaced. “You saved my life.”

Wolf held up her leather case. “And your flute. I knew that would be your first question.”

Gratitude and relief overwhelmed her. Only hours ago, she’d decided to hate him. Now she owed him her life—
and
her flute. Her eyes grew watery. “I don’t know how to thank you…”

Wolf squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to. I’m just glad you’re all right.”

Melody shook her head, angry more with herself than the thieves. “It was stupid of me to walk down that alley. Usually, I leave with Carly. But we had a fight and I wasn’t thinking clearly…”

Wolf smiled as if he took her side without even knowing what they fought about. “Well, she’s going to feel really guilty now.”

“Did you call my parents or my sister?”

Wolf shook his head. “I didn’t have their numbers, and your phone is dead.”

“It’s an ancient artifact with a crappy battery.”

Wolf laughed. “You’re telling me. I barely recognized it.”

An older man wearing a white coat walked into the room and they fell silent. “Mr. and Mrs. Mires?”

Melody opened her mouth to correct him, but Wolf held up his hand to Melody and addressed the doctor. “Yes?”

The doctor extended his hand. “Dr. Isaak.” He turned to Melody. “You’re one lucky lady.”

Funny, lying in a hospital bed with a headache the size of Texas didn’t make Melody seem very lucky. “So, I’m not going to die?”

The doctor chuckled. “No. You’ve had a minor concussion and a small laceration to the side of your head, but other than that, you’re healthy. You’re free to go home.”

“Really?”

Dr. Isaak turned to Wolf. “Mr. Mires, keep an eye on her for the next twenty-four hours. If she feels overly faint, dizzy, or nauseous, call this number.”

“Okay, Doc.” Wolf winked at Melody.

“Good.” The doctor shook Wolf’s hand one more time. “Now, I don’t advise driving or running any type of machinery for the rest of the week. No sports, no swimming, and definitely no strenuous activity.”

Melody thought of Wolf and blushed. Was there a chance they’d engage in strenuous activity?

“Yes, sir.” Wolf nodded seriously.

“Stay safe.” The doctor left as quickly as he’d come. Melody was thankful he’d checked on her right away after she’d woken up. From blacking out. From being attacked. Suddenly, the full force of the night came back at her like a sledgehammer.

“Did they catch the guys who attacked me?” Melody whispered, afraid to know the answer.