Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
When my mother stepped away, my father stepped up and patted Simon lightly on the arm. “You were magnificent tonight. Now it’s time to rest.” My father used his tone that left no room for argument.
“Yes, sir,” Simon murmured.
“Good man. Let Pierce take care of you. We look forward to seeing you at the office party next week.”
Simon remained silent until my parents had left the stage and were walking back up the aisle.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get any of the other members to stay and meet your parents. Tonight’s program was rather long and complicated. It was also the second night. Everyone was exhausted. I’m sure they were afraid of creating a poor impression. Plus, I’m not close to anyone. It’s kind of hard to ask for favors without it feeling like I’m throwing my weight around. I-I-I just—”
“Simon,” I interrupted. “It was fine. My parents didn’t mind in the least. It was more than enough of a treat for them to meet the conductor. Plus, the important thing was them getting to see you play tonight. You were amazing, and I wanted them to witness your brilliance in person.”
Simon huffed, making some disgruntled, disbelieving noises. I gave him a little shake.
“You’re amazing, and you know it.”
“Yeah, but he made me play Mozart. You know I fucking hate Mozart. He’s so…so…”
“Pretentious?”
“Yes! I had to threaten the maestro with my bow to get him to add the Tchaikovsky.”
“Simon,” I growled in warning, but it was all for show. I felt better seeing that some of his usual spark had returned. He still looked utterly drained to me.
“What? It’s an excellent piece, and it’s short. I’m the one who has to do all the troublesome parts. The rest of them simply have to keep up with me.”
And there was the arrogance that ruffled feathers.
“Did you drive?”
Simon leaned his head on my chest and slowly shook it. “No. I always hire a car to take me to and from Music Hall on performance nights. I’m too tired to drive.”
“Okay. Can you get your coat and violin? I’ll meet you out front. I’ll drive you home.”
Simon nodded and released me. He shuffled across the stage, disappearing into the wings. I remained where I was, biting my tongue to hold in words of frustration and anger. Simon had met and joined the orchestra during the summer. He’d known these people for months, and he’d yet to make any friends among them. Asking a couple of them to stay behind for five minutes to meet his boyfriend’s parents should have been such a small thing, and he either didn’t feel comfortable asking or they hadn’t made him feel welcome enough that he could ask.
Sure, he could be brazen and sassy. Definitely arrogant. But Simon was never mean. He never said a cruel word about someone’s playing unless he was provoked. And God knew he could more than back up all his bragging. I’d only ever seen him as friendly and kind around people, even when he didn’t know I was watching. I hated the idea of him feeling alone while doing the thing he loved most in the world. Yet, what was I supposed to do about it?
Tonight, the best I could do was try to take care of him.
12
SIMON MILLER
I was exhausted. Drained. I had been sucked dry—not in a fun way—and my soul was now a shriveled-up raisin.
When Pierce’s parents were walking toward me after the performance, my only thought had been to hold it all together for a bit longer.
Don’t talk too much.
Don’t be an asshole.
Don’t be too much in general.
And definitely don’t embarrass Pierce.
But then Pierce had wrapped an arm around me and pressed tender kisses to my sore, throbbing fingertips, and what threads I’d been clinging to as I’d held myself together had slipped away. All I could do was nod and follow commands.
This happened too often after a grueling schedule. I’d been trying to keep up with Pierce, work on my concerto for the orchestra, and perfect my playing for tonight’s performance. Not to mention I’d been worried about disappointing Pierce’s parents. Now that the performance was complete, I could pause for a bit to catch my breath.
The problem was that I felt like I had nothing left. Everything—even thinking—felt like it was too much.
Pierce held the rear passenger-side door open for me, and I didn’t question it. I climbed in, hugging my violin case to my chest. A hand patted my hip, and I blinked, gazing up to find Pierce bending in the still-open doorway.
“Keep scooting.”
He was getting in with me? Looking past him, I finally spotted a second person. His driver. Pierce liked to drive himself, but I knew he kept a full staff at his house. I scooted to the next seat and closed my eyes. The rich leather creaked and grumbled under Pierce as he climbed in beside me. The door shut, closing out the world.