As Milan-news went, this wasn’t so bad. It was wonderful that his solo career was taking off, and it didn’t seem he was planning to move to New York or Berlin. Or Prague.
Oh, Prague.
She took a deep breath and had to work to catch up with what von Ritter was saying about their first practice piece.
Soon enough she had thrown herself into the music and all else was forgotten until the rehearsal ended and the orchestra was dismissed.
Milan was at her side almost before she’d put down her bow.
“Come celebrate with me,” he said, picking up her violin case and clicking it shut for her. “I’ve booked the Oxo Tower.”
Lydia grimaced. “I’d love to join you but?”
“Don’t say no. It isn’t allowed. You have to come.”
“What time did you book for?”
“Eight o’clock.”
“Can I meet you there?”
“Well, okay. I thought we could get a drink first. Not alcohol!” he said, putting up a hand before she could make the obvious comment.
“In the bar at seven-thirty then. Yes?”
“Yes. You have to go home now?”
“I’m meeting…” She almost lied, almost said Vanessa, then her hesitation gave her away.
“Von Ritter,” he finished.
She nodded. “Don’t make me feel guilty. I’m free to see whoever I want.”
“So is he,” said Milan, looking over to where the conductor stood, deep in conversation with Sarah Latimer, harpist and former Milan-groupie.
“Can’t believe she’s showing her face here,” muttered Lydia, looking daggers at the polished blonde.
“She needs to earn a living,” said Milan with a shrug. “I’m over it.”
“I’m glad,” said Lydia sincerely. “And I’ll be at the restaurant, okay? I won’t miss your celebration dinner. I’m thrilled for you.”
“Thank you, milácku.” He bent and dropped a brief kiss on the top of her head. No more than that. But it made her weaken and sigh. “I’ll see you later.”
He strode out of the hall, exchanged a short but intense unfriendly look with von Ritter, and went on his way.
Von Ritter ended his chat with Sarah and made a beeline for Lydia.
“What did she want?” asked Lydia, glaring over at the harpist’s back.
“Don’t be too hard on her,” cautioned von Ritter. “She wants to resign, but I am trying to convince her to stay.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s a good harpist, Lydia. Why else?”
“I can think of a few reasons.”
A flashback to the night they’d spent in the BDSM club interrupted Lydia’s thoughts. How von Ritter had thought nothing of letting Sarah give him a blow job while Lydia had looked on.