Some of them dart out of the building; others take their time packing up their instrument.
Isla Foster falls somewhere in the middle.
She’s a petite blonde with a level of talent I’ve rarely seen.
Her love of the violin is evident in each note she plays.
“Good job today, Alexander.” She approaches me with her violin case in her hand. “You’re one of the best I’ve ever worked with.”
It’s a compliment I don’t take lightly. “Thank you, Isla.”
Her face softens as she smiles. “If I had a vote, I’d want you to stay on in a permanent capacity.”
I’ve heard the same from two of her colleagues.
/> New York has always been home to me. For years I wanted this job more than my next breath, but that’s not the case anymore.
“Gabriel can’t stop talking about opening night.” She rolls her pretty blue eyes. “My husband may be your biggest fan.”
“My sister would have something to say about that.”
“We’d let them argue that on their own.”
Before I can respond, her phone chimes. She glances down at the large black purse slung over her shoulder. “That’s Gabriel. He texts me after every rehearsal to tell me what a great job I did.”
I smile at that.
“I tell him that he has no idea whether I killed it or butchered it.” She scoops her phone out of her purse. Her eyes scan the screen. “My husband is predictable, but not in the ways that really matter.”
I read between the lines. They’re an affectionate couple. Both times I’ve seen them together, his focus has been on her.
She types something into her phone before she gazes at my face again. “I won’t keep you, Alexander, but I just wanted to say how much I love working with you.”
“I’m enjoying it too, Isla.” I give her a curt nod.
“There’s one other thing.” She studies her phone, not making eye contact with me.
“What’s that?” I ask with a quirk of my brow.
“You have perfect pitch.” She turns her phone’s screen toward me before she starts playing an Instagram video of me in the Pink Parlor, singing to my heart’s content.
“I try.”
She laughs. “I need to get Gabriel down there. Every time he sings in the shower, I melt into a puddle. I’d love to watch him on a stage like that.”
I huff out a laugh at the thought of Gabriel Foster at a karaoke bar letting loose.
“There’s another video that the Pink Parlor posted the other day.” Her fingers skim the screen of her phone again. “Gabriel said this woman works for him. Olivia Hull. She’s gorgeous and she can sing almost as well as you.”
I watch intently as the video captures less than ten seconds of Olivia’s performance. Her body moves fluidly to the music. She’s stunning.
My cock hardens from the reminder of what I felt that night when I was watching her.
“Were you there together?” Isla asks as the video ends.
“Yes.”
She smiles brightly. “Next time you should do a duet. Something tells me it would be pure magic.”