Page 19 of Perfect Pitch

“In a lot of condominiums—not just River View Place, mind you—there are clauses in rental agreements about people living with you other than immediate family members. That’s to prevent people with large extended families from living in smaller domiciles. This might be solved if the rent around here wasn’t so atrocious.” Then the disdain drops from his voice and a charming grin lightens it. “I don’t have to go through the same process because my family owns the building.”

I joke, “Must be a rough life.”

He snickers. “My Uncle Charlie bought the place years ago when it was a dump for investment purposes. Color him shocked when people actually started to want to buy the units—even as crappy as they were. He’s made a small fortune on them. Kept this one for me and my brother.”

I spin around. “I don’t see any brother. Did you eat him or is he chained in a closet somewhere? Is part of my rental agreement feeding him daily?”

Trevor barks out a laugh. “I already like you. Let’s see if you have any axe murderess tendencies so I can move you in.”

We walk past a kitchen that’s as nicely remodeled as my mother’s. When I casually mention that Trevor asks, “Where’s home?”

“Kensington, Texas. Just outside of Austin.”

He stops dead in his tracks. “So, either you fed me a line of bull about your name or there’s a very interesting story there.”

I smirk. “There’s a very interesting story there.”

He rubs his hands together in glee. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

Trevor shows me the bathroom and a half, which he declares, “The half is all yours. I know we have to share a shower and whatnot, but consider this your personal bathroom for products, makeup, whatever.”

“That’s super generous.”

“Listen, you pay half the rent, you get half the place.” Then he swings open the bedroom door.

The corner bedroom has windows running along two of the four walls. The bed is on the third with the closet taking up the fourth. I blindly reach for his arm and whisper, “When can I move in?”

He grins. “Isn’t the view fantastic? If I could manage to sleep once the sun starts to rise, I’d have taken over this room once my brother moved out.”

“Is he far away?” I feel for the brothers, who I can tell are close by the emotion in Trevor’s voice when he talks about his. I know what it feels like to live thousands of miles from the people who are your foundation.

“Nah. He was an NYPD beat officer, then detective.”

“Noble.” And if the news reports are anything to go by, more than a little courageous.

“It was.”

“Was?” Oh god. Did he lose his brother? Or, seriously, did he dismember him? I take a cautious step back.

Some of what I’m thinking must show in my face. Trevor’s body shakes with suppressed laughter. He holds up three fingers in a perfect Boy Scout salute. “Swear, he’s not in a closet.”

I let my body deliberately sag in relief. “Phew.”

“He went to work for a private investigation firm. His current assignment comes with lodging included.”

“Sounds like a sweet deal.”

“No kidding.” Trevor guides me down the hall and into the living room. Over his Sonos, I hear the faint sounds of one of my favorite songs. I can’t help but sing aloud. Within moments, I’m harmonizing to the refrain.

Trevor falls onto the sectional, stunned. “Christ, you’re her.”

At his words I stop singing. “Who?”

He lifts his iPad and extends it to me. On it is an article praising my DJ skills the night before. I flush. “Oh, yeah. That’s me. That’s what I do. I’m a DJ.”

His eyes twinkle. “Can you tell me about it?”

“About DJ’ing? Sure. About the wedding? No. I signed an NDA.”

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