Page 69 of A First Sight

A step to a bright and wonderful future.

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My stomach was in knots.Tonight would be my first concert since the incident with Dale. My first concert with my new violin. I wanted it to be perfect.

Ineededit to be perfect.

The rehearsals had gone well all week, but performances were everything.

I spent extra time in front of the bathroom mirror, going over every detail of my make-up and hair, inspecting every inch of my new outfit to make sure I didn’t even have a stray piece of lint. I had bought a couple of new dresses from Saks, but tonight I wore a dress Carson had designed for me.

I smiled as a surge of pride went through me. Everything Carson made was beautiful, and soon, he would not be able to keep up with the demands for his designs.

Speaking of which, he was working late tonight, which meant his place was empty when I left.

I locked up and headed down to the car I had waiting for me.

I made small talk with the driver, and before I knew it, we were there. I made my way inside and halfway through the lobby when Gilmore, one of the security guards, called my name.

“Good evening.” I smiled at him as he came hurrying over. I noticed a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Is something wrong?”

“I was told that the new guy just dropped off a package for you. I know you said you didn’t want–”

“It’s all right. That’s not—that’s not a problem anymore.”

“Oh, good.” He smiled. “I’m glad you’re back, Miss McCrae. Something is missing when you’re not here to play.”

I thanked him for the compliment and went on, wondering if perhaps Drake sent something tonight in honor of my first night back. While he said he wouldn’t contact me, sending something for good luck wouldn’t go against that.

Half of the orchestra was already in the backstage room when I entered, some of them glancing at me.

Something was waiting at the counter. The box was long and thin, my name written on a tag, but nothing else. Conscious of all the eyes on me, I carefully lifted the top.

And froze.

The only thing I could do was stare.

Six long-stemmed white roses. At least I assumed they had been white at one time. Not anymore. They were dead. Not wilted or with some petals brown and dry. The roses were flat-out dead.

When my brain worked again, it debated that perhaps the florist had delivered them late or someone had made a mistake.

No, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. This was a deliberate message, and only one person would do this.

Then something caught my eye. A card.

I reached for it, feeling as if I were moving in slow motion.

The handwriting was unfamiliar to me, but as I read the words on the paper, my blood ran cold.

Good luck with your new apartment, but maybe look for a place with better security. Anyone could walk in on you.

FIFTY-ONE

DRAKE

I spenttoday focusing on my work, not leaving the office until nearly nine. An hour in the gym and then a shower as hot as I could stand, and I thought I might have a good chance at actually sleeping solidly for a few hours tonight. Except, as I stepped out of the bathroom, still toweling my hair dry, I heard my phone.

And it was the ringtone I’d assigned to Maggie.

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