“So, why the piano bar?” he asks.
I shrug. “I've always liked the piano. It seems like a surefire way of telling that someone is cultured.”
“And that's what's important to you? Whether someone is cultured? I mean, I can play the piano and I don't feel too cultured,” he says, that wry look back on his face.
“I don't know. I mean, when I play, I feel like a different person.”
“You really do play? I thought you were just talking trash yesterday,” he cuts in. I immediately regret saying anything.
“Well, yeah. I'm not all that good.”
He shakes his head, as if he doesn't quite believe me. “I bet that's not true. I bet you practice every day. I bet you have a piano in your house.”
I can feel my face immediately turn red. How could he have guessed that? “Joke's on you, I don't live in a house.”
He looks at me. “Nobody in Manhattan lives in a house. You know what I meant.”
I nodded softly. I did. “Well, somehow I believe that you live in a house.”
He shrugs. “I used to. Not any more.”
I leave it at that, and we continue to walk, eating our hot dogs. He turns us so that we are headed deep into the park. I wonder briefly if walking through Central Park with a rival crime mob member is a good idea, but I let him lead. I am safe with him. I trust him. I don't know why, but I feel like I would let him take me anywhere.
Chapter 5
When we arrive back at the piano bar after walking the park, he seems excited. It's not that he bounces around, but more that his movements have just a little more energy to them. He smiles more. There's a lightness I his step.
“Come on!” he says as he holds out his hand to help me out of the limo. He's smiling. It's contagious, and I can't help but laugh as he drags me toward the bar.
When we get inside, the pl
ace is filling up. Soft piano music plays from the speaker system instead of from the piano. They must be waiting for the piano player to arrive. However, when Dante enters the door and goes to the piano, the music cuts off. He starts playing some upbeat song and grabs the mic, something that he hadn't done all of yesterday.
“I want to thank all of you for coming out here tonight. I have a special guest joining me. Please welcome Vesper!”
My jaw drops in horror. He should have cleared this with me before putting me on the spot, but I don't think I can back down now. People are looking around and some have already fixated on the girl in the jeans and sweater.
The truth is, I've always wanted to play that piano. I just didn't think that it would happen like this.
I slowly start to walk toward the piano and people start to clap and whistle at me. Dante is such an asshole, I can't believe it. I'm a ball of nerves, both excited and apprehensive, and the whole time Dante just sits there with a big grin on his face. I feel like smacking him and kissing him all at the same time.
When I get to him, I cross my arms in front of me. He just looks up at me innocently and pats the spot on the bench next to him, beckoning me to sit down. I make an exaggerated sigh but sit next to him anyway.
“What do you know how to play?” he asks, putting his hand over the microphone.
“I can't play anything well,” I tell him. Not compared to my mother.
He smiles at me. “Well, you better learn something quickly. A whole lot of people are expecting you to play.”
I look around and see all eyes on me. For someone who helps run an entire organization, this feels strangely unnerving. Still, I manage to blink away all the people around me and just let my thoughts drive my body.
If I could chose to do anything, this is what I'd do every night. It's in my blood. My fingers begin to move across the keys, and I begin to play one of the classical pieces that I know by heart. Dante takes his hand off the mic and puts his fingers on the keys next to me.
I don't know if he has the backup music of this piece memorized, but he begins to play a note here and there that only seems to accentuate my own playing. It's similar to something my mother and I used to do as a game, but different enough that I don't compare him to my mother. I do know that it takes a talented musician to play like this on the fly, and the synergy I feel with him as my fingers slowly play the notes just brings me closer to him.
I lose track of time as I continue to play, shifting from one piece to the next, Dante by my side the entire time. I can feel the heat of his body radiating into mine. His leg presses against me and I can smell the clean scent of his soap. I like the way he feels next to me.
We play for what seems like hours. It's effortless to play with him. It's like we share a mind and every note we play sounds better when we play it together. I didn't know it was possible to have a connection with another person through a piano like that. There are some in the bar who have gone back to milling around or drinking with friends, but we have built up a pretty sizable audience. When I stop playing, they burst into applause. I love the sound.