Page 20 of All The Wrong Notes

Janet did not call the next morning. Instead, she popped by Elise’s office at the arts centre with a paper tray with two coffee cups in it and a paper bag full of mini pastries.

“Uh oh!” Elise laughed at the sight. “That bad, is it? There’s bad news, and then there’s coffee and croissants bad news. I guess I’ll sign up to get my V-card renewed.”

Despite her outer mirth, a little part of her heart broke at this. Was he gay? Or worse, was he already in some sort of relationship, or married? She hadn’t seen signs of a wife or partner, but he could be hiding an entire village in that house and she’d never see them. Maybe he was a monk with a vow of perpetual chastity.

Don’t be an idiot, she chided herself. Maybe he’s just not that sort of interested.

What was most alarming, however, was not the degree of Will’s interest, but of her own. How much her feelings had changed since that awful first meeting in June. Elise was, she had to admit to herself, more than a little bit in love with him. Despite that niggle of doubt that still teased at her conscience every now and then, her heart was engaged. She needed to get control of her emotions quickly if she wasn’t going to be badly hurt.

“Carlos thinks he’s definitely interested…” Janet was saying.

Indeed? She focused on her friend.

“...but he doesn’t want to say for certain. He’s known Will for years, since they were kids, really, and they’ve been good friends since university, but he said he’s never known Will to be with anyone, male or female.”

What? No girlfriends or boyfriends, ever? Her eyes must have broadcast her thoughts, because Janet went on.

“He’s a bit of a closed book in that regard. Carlos is pretty sure his tastes run to women, though. He just doesn’t shout about his relationships.”

“If he’s had any.” Elise breathed. “He might just scare everyone off. He can come across as pretty cold at first.”

“You’ve warmed him up, Lise.” Janet’s eyebrows rose. “You’ve been out to dinner with him a few times, and been over to his house twice? Three times? I’ve never been there. Carlos has only been once. Ever. He’s a very private man. He’s let you in, and not just to his house. That must mean something.”

Elise sighed. “Something, yes, but what? Maybe he just likes my singing.”

“Well,” Janet’s voice was now teasing, “there’s only one way to find out. If he’s not going to seduce you, then you’ll have to seduce him!”

* * *

It was an interesting thought, but one fraught with all sorts of peril. If Will wasn’t interested, for whatever reason, it would mark the end to a promising friendship. And, Elise had to be honest, it would also mean the end to their musical sessions. Whether practising for the short series of performances or just enjoying making music for its own sake, she was loving singing to Will’s expert piano playing.

She would gladly take on the challenge of seducing Will, if she had some suggestion that her efforts would be appreciated. But Janet was right. As much as he shared his music and invited her into his home, he was, in many ways, a closed book, his inner secrets and deepest thoughts not open for others to see. He spoke of his parents, but not of his past, of his youth. What sort of kid was he? What did he love, or hate? Who were his friends? It seemed that even at university, he’d clung to Carlos, not only because he liked the man, but because Carlos provided the entree to some sort of social life.

Elise briefly considered talking to Kevin. He had, after all, known Will back then as well, when they were all in Montreal. But, no, that wouldn’t do. Kevin was hardly one of Will’s closest friends, and he clearly believed Will was not the squeaky-clean guy the rest of the world saw. If Carlos didn’t know anything about Will’s romantic inclinations and childhood secrets, Kevin certainly wouldn’t.

Nor had Carlos been able to shed much light on any funny business in the company’s past. Janet had related that there were allegations of irregularities a few years earlier, all of which had eventually been reconciled as computer issues, and even the press had dropped it. But that question mark remained, floating faintly above all Elise’s other ponderings and musings about Will and the Pemberton empire.

They were about to start their short series of concerts, and after much thinking and rethinking, Elise made her decision. She would enjoy the performances and the time spent making music with Will, and only afterwards, so as not to ruin things, if he had said nothing, she would.

* * *

Will wiped his damp hands on his trousers. Why was he nervous? He never got nervous before these little performances. It was all music he had played a hundred times before, and he knew that these audiences would love every note even if all he played was ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’. No, it wasn’t the music or stage fright that had his palms glistening with perspiration, but rather, it was Elise. Was he anxious about her? Worried that she would somehow choke and not be able to sing? No, she was confident, and she had performed before, and even if the worst happened, he could easily finish the show by himself.

It was, rather, the pressure to do his absolute best for her. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—let her down. And the rapid drumbeat of his heart had nothing at all to do with the music. He really had to get this under control, until he knew how she felt about him.

Will had offered to pick her up from work for this first performance, but she had been in meetings with a donor all morning and said that she would take a taxi afterwards. He paced the room where they were to perform, waiting for her to arrive.

It was a pleasant space, large enough for about fifty chairs for an audience, with bright windows along one wall and bookshelves lining two others, a space where the residents of this centre could come to select something to read, or to sit and enjoy a bit of company. There was a grand piano in one corner, reasonably well in tune, and sufficient space for the two of them to perform without being too close to the front row.

He paced a bit more. The speakers were plugged in, the mic all connected. He tested it and then paced some more.

Then the door opened and the manager of the residence led Elise into the room. She slipped off her coat and Will’s heart stood still. If he had thought her lovely before, he was now transfixed. She had swept her silky hair to the side in a style reminiscent of the torch singers of the ’40s, and her deep red dress somehow both clung to her curves in the most captivating way, while remaining perfectly proper and modest. How did that neckline cover so much while suggesting everything? How did the skirt accentuate her narrow waist and lush hips, while still flowing so elegantly about her calves? The carefully applied red lipstick and swoosh of eye liner only emphasised this transformation into an irresistible siren. His mouth went dry, and he only realised after a moment that his jaw was hanging open.

Subtle, Will. You’re an adult. Behave like one. He closed his mouth.

If she noticed his lapse, she said nothing, but gave him a brilliant smile, and slid across the room to press a kiss not quite to his cheek. “Lipstick stains,” she whispered to him, and for a moment, he couldn’t move. Thank heavens for his jacket.

Ahem. He cleared his throat to test if his voice still worked. Thank God he wasn’t singing.