“Just for this performance.” I grabbed the heels from Leo, hoping I could fit them.
“He’s styling you for a performance?”
“It’s a private party.” I put one shoe one and it fit perfectly.
Leo quirked his eyebrows. “Did you tell him your size?”
“No.” I stirred and took off the shoe. “Maybe he asked Shalimar.”
“I don’t know if this guy is creepy, or romantic. What does he look like?”
“That would make a difference?”
“Hell yes. If he’s gorgeous, I would see how this plays out. Sure, he wants you to play the violin.” Leo winked twice. “Sure. But he’s trying to take off panties too. The roses. The shoes. The expensive gown. This is game.”
“Game.”
“Yeah. Out-of-my-budget game, but game, nonetheless. I’m actually proud of you. Finally, you’re working that pussy power.”
“I don’t know about that,” I said. “So, you would still play the performance, if you were me?”
Leo leaned his head to the side. “Is he attractive?”
“God, yes.”
“Then, hell yeah, I would be playing in the outfit that his limo driver bought me along with flowers. Shit. I might be naked, when I showed up.”
I shook my head.
“You know I’m nasty, right?”
“I know.” I laughed, placed the shoes in the box, and left the couch.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to practice.”
“Practice what?”
“The music I’m playing tonight.”
He called back. “You need to be practicing twerking and how to drop it low because he’s going to want more than playing tonight.”
I looked over my shoulder. “Well, he only paid for playing, so that’s all he’s getting.”
“Good. Stick to your morals. Unless the figures on the check go up. Then have your daddy take you to the bank.”
I laughed and shut the door.
“Work that pussy power, girl! Get that bag for the household.”
I shook my head at my cat. “What are we going to do with Leo?”
V had never left the windowsill. I was glad because if she’d seen that gown, she would’ve thought it was her new scratch toy.
I walked over to my laptop and pulled up Jean-Pierre’s album. As soon as I pressed play, his first song came on. He called the song, Iliad and had full composing credit.
A skilled violin filled the room. He had such a delicate bow stroke, delivering the ability to make the violin sound any way he desired. His breathtaking notes rode the air. I sat down next to the windowsill and stared out the window.
I couldn’t even see what was happening behind the glass.
I was blind to the world moving outside.
His song had my attention.
How beautiful it was? How it drummed through my heart, touching parts of the organ that I didn’t know could be touched?
When the song ended, I rose, placed the song on repeat, and returned to the window.
V climbed onto my lap and snuggled.
I barely knew she was there, as I closed my eyes and imagined Jean-Pierre playing the Iliad on stage.
How beautiful he must’ve been. How could those heavy arms play something as delicate and small as a violin? And how could a man that wrote something so melodious and heartwarming as the Iliad, now be rumored as a butcher?
On the fourth play, I wondered why he’d named the song that title.
The Iliad was an ancient Greek epic by Homer. It told of battles and quarrels between King Agamemnon, and the warrior Achilles.
Had he been going through a battle? There had to have been quarrels with what happened to him later.
On the sixth play, I took Eros out and began mimicking some of the notes, unable to just sit and not play along.
On the tenth play, I fell in love with the composition. I’d already liked it. That had never been up for debate. But now the song flowed within my soul. It was in the music files of my brain. Forever imprinted.
On the fifteenth play, I knew I would play it for him. I just didn’t know if I should, or if he would want the reminder. I just knew the desire burned in my fingers.
On the twentieth, Leo came in to complain, tired of hearing me play it over and over.
I switched to my Bluetooth headphones and practiced the songs until the afternoon. I was nervous about tonight’s job. Leo’s assessment of the situation didn’t help. The fact that I was doing this behind my aunt’s back didn’t make this any easier.
It made me glad that I had Shalimar involved.
Everything will work. It has to.
Chapter 6
The Freaky Proposition
Eden
My phone rang right as I arrived at the Candy Shop.
I checked the screen.
Shalimar: Where are you? Nervous? Need anything?
Me: Yes. The package arrived this morning. I put the gown on.
Shalimar: You’re covered. He didn’t try to be slick?
Me: I’m covered. It’s just a lot going on. I look like I’m a pop star on a world tour.
Shalimar: Better that than lingerie. Come to the office, so I can see. Everything will be fine.