Page 27 of Saving Stella
But his wolf growled at that idea.
“No, there’s no need.” He gestured to the front of the theater. “Devon went through a lot of trouble to arrange this for you. You do know that not everyone gets a private tour of Carnegie Hall?”
Her teeth bit into her lower lip. “I guess … maybe by the time I’m done, the press would have all gone home?”
Go home? Did she think paparazzi clocked in and out like factory workers? She was so naive it was almost cute. “I don’t know. But Devon asked me to stay with you for now; they’ll update me on the situation.”
She blinked. “You’re coming on the tour too?”
He would rather have his eyes gouged out; music was really more his mother and Charley’s thing. He’d actually been backstage at Carnegie Hall twice when he was younger as his mother had two sold-out concerts there, and he remembered how bored he was while he waited in her dressing room during rehearsals and shows. Just thinking about it made him want to run.
However, Stella looked so utterly lovely today in her cute white sweater dress that clung to her curves and her knee-high boots that he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Yeah. Devon said to stick by your side.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “This might be too boring for you. I mean, we’ll probably be talking about classical music and stuff.”
“It’s fine,” he replied, nonplussed. “I’ll try and keep up.”
She shrugged. “Okay then, let’s go.”
He followed her into the hall, and thankfully someone was already waiting for them at the lobby.
“You must be Stella Lennon,” the woman said. “I’m Fiona Bannister, the general manager, and I’ll be taking you on a two-hour private tour.”
“Thank you so much for making time for us, Fiona.” Stella shook the hand she offered. “I’m so excited.”
Cliff groaned inwardly but shook the hand Fiona offered.
“Great, we can begin.” She led them through the doors that led into the Main Hall. “As you know, Carnegie Hall was built in 1891, named after the man who built it, Andrew Carnegie, the richest man in America at that time ….”
Cliff barely listened to Fiona Bannister as she droned on and on about the Main Hall. All he could focus on was Stella, who was obviously in heaven. Her eyes lit up at almost everything she saw and touched. When they went backstage and Fiona led them to the stage, Cliff could see her entire body vibrating with excitement as she stood in the center and looked out into the empty seats. He’d overheard from Charley that she was a music teacher, which meant she probably sang or played an instrument. He imagined she had always dreamed of being on this stage, and it made him curious to find out which it was. Did she play an instrument or did she sing?
They continued on with the Rose Museum, but as they were about to go into the archives, Cliff’s phone rang. Charley’s name flashed on the screen.
“Sorry, I need to take this,” he said. “Is there anywhere private where I can go?”
“Not in here, but if you make your way back to the Main Hall, you’ll find a couple of rehearsal rooms. You can use any of the empty ones.”
“Thank you. I’ll find you when I’m done.”
Following Fiona’s instructions, he retraced his steps and went inside the first empty room he found. He sat down on the only seat in the room—the piano’s bench—then picked up the call. “Charley?”
“Hey, Cliff.” His sister’s voice sounded less strained than it had been this morning. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, we’re almost done with the tour. How about you? How’s it going?”
“It’s … going. We’re about to release a statement, but there’s no way we can make it out tonight.”
“Shit, I’m sorry, Char.”
“Thanks.” She blew out a breath. “Is Stella having fun at least?”
“Yeah, she’s having the time of her life.”
She chuckled. “I bet. Devon’s pretty pissed he can’t be there with her and that he’s missing an entire day with her because of these asshole paps. I—hold on.”
As Cliff waited on the line, he could hear Charley murmuring to someone in the background—probably Devon.
“Sorry, they need me to look over this statement one more time.”