Page 70 of Hope & Harmony

Blaire’s in trouble.

I get to my feet quickly, the sheet music cascading to the floor. I can feel my heart thundering in my chest. “That was Blaire. It was her voice. We’ve got to get to her.”

Sarah gulps.

“Sarah!” I grip her shoulders, pulling her out of her chair. “Her address. Do you know her address?”

She blinks and then reaches for her purse. “I do, thank God. She wrote it and her phone number on the back of her card after we spoke last night.”

I grab the card from Sarah. “Call 911. I’m going to get her.”

“Gunnar, you don’t even know if she’s home.”

God, she’s right. “Fuck. But I don’t know where else to start. Maybe you can trace where her phone is.”

“I don’t know how?—”

“I don’t either, damn it!” I rub at my forehead. “I’m going to her place. Call 911 and give them her address. Then worry about the phone.”

Blaire’s place is only a few blocks away from the studio, so I run like hell. It’ll be quicker than getting my car and dealing with traffic.

I run like a gazelle being chased by a lion. I run like I’ve never run before, my heart pounding against my throat the whole way.

When I finally get to the apartment building, I run inside, find the stairwell, race to the second floor, and find her apartment number.

I pound on the door. “Blaire! Blaire, are you in there?”

“Go away,” a deep voice says.

It sounds slightly familiar, but I can’t place it.

And then it hits me.

It’s the same voice I heard chastising Blaire for her lack of commitment to the classical field. Her music professor. The guy in the tweed. He was against this whole thing.

I think back… He was standing awfully close to Blaire last night. He was finding any excuse to touch her. And he was glaring at me after that kiss.

What if he’s obsessed with Blaire? What if?—

I pound again. “I’ve called 911. Where’s Blaire? If you’ve hurt her, so help me God I’ll?—”

I’ll what? She’s not mine to protect.

Except that she is.

That kiss last night.

We said more to each other in that kiss than I’ve ever said to another woman. She may not feel the same way, but damn it, I want to give things between us a chance. I want more from her than just this collaboration.

I want it all.

CHAPTER 8

BLAIRE

My phone is gone.

I had lied when Professor Morgan, with the stench of cheap whiskey on his breath, had forced his way back into my apartment. I told him my phone was in the other room. My plan was to excuse myself to the bathroom when the opportunity arose and then call for help.

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