Page 102 of Serving the Maestro

My heart felt like it was shattering to pieces in slow time, and the world around me slowed with it as if to make sure I didn’t miss a single second of the misery.

Falling back against the door frame, I stared at the empty bed, all neatly made up. There was no sign she’d ever even been here.

“How could you just leave?” I asked.

But the empty house offered no answer.

Shoving off the wall, I raced to the living room and grabbed my phone. I called, heart racing as I waited for Jazz to answer.

The call cut off abruptly, and I swore.

She was either on a call with somebody or didn’t want to talk to me. Either was an option. I gave it five minutes and called again and when the same thing happened, my gut told me she was dodging my calls.

“Fuck.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, then decided to try one more thing. If this didn’t work out, I’d buy a ticket to New York and camp out at her door. She would be going home, most likely.

If I had to race across the country to talk to her, I’d do it.

But first, I put in a call to Cam.

I counted each ring, the ache in my chest expanding.

“Yeah?”

Cam’s terse greeting had me closing my eyes in relief, even if she sounded like she wanted to reach through the phone and strangle me.

“Where is she?” I demanded. “I need to know.”

“I’m not telling you. Just leave it alone, okay?”

“Damn it, Cam! Don’t hang up, just give me two minutes to explain, okay?” The desperate note in my voice was impossible to miss, but I didn’t give a damn if she knew I was desperate.

“Why should I?”

“Because I love her, and I know exactly what an ex-friend of mine told her at the club last night—it was all a fucking lie, okay?”

There was nothing but silence from her end of the line, and I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping so hard, it hurt.

“How do you know it was all a lie?” Cam asked warily. “Jazz said she didn’t talk to you after she ran you into your ex, and she left before you woke up. So how do you know what—”

“Avery called me last night to gloat,” I said, cutting her off. “Hell, I’d send you a screenshot of the phone call, but I deleted her number and blocked her as soon as I hung up.”

“Avery...your ex?”

I shoved a hand through my hair. “She’s not my ex. We were friends, and yeah, we...slept together for a while, but that’s been over with for years. She came out to see me in New York when I was there, but I was already involved with Jazz and—shit, look, there’s nothing between me and Avery. There hasn’t been for a long time. I don’t know why the fuck she decided to lie and pretend there’s still something between us, why a friend would fuck me over like that—but I love Jazz. I don’t want to spend another day without her.”

A soft, sighing breath came from over the phone.

“Damn it, Cam! What do I have to do to get you to believe me?”

She chuckled, and when she spoke, her voice was decidedly lighter. “Well, you kind of already did—even if you are snarling while you swear you’re in love with my friend, you still said you’re in love with my friend.” She paused, then asked, “Love, love her, as in no matter what and all that?”

“Crazy in love. Would do anything for her, no matter what,” I said.

“Okay. Got a pen?”

* * *

Stephen called me back as I hit the highway. It was too early on a Sunday for there to be much traffic—at least as far as Los Angeles went, and I was making good time.

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