Page 57 of Counterpoint and Harmony

Chapter Thirty-Two

Cluster:a harmonic structure composed of seconds (rather than thirds)

Damian

“Do you have a car?” I ask as I start putting away my cello.

“What?”

I look up to see Charlie still standing by the door, her hands over her mouth, a dazed look on her face.

Straightening up, I strap the velcro around the neck of the cello and close the case, latching it before turning to face Charlie. “A car. With a driver. That’s what you usually do when you travel, right?”

Charlie blinks, her blue eyes coming back into focus. “Right. Yes. I do.”

A knock sounds at the door, pulling both of our attention, but neither of us moves to answer it.

“Oh my God,” she whispers. “I can’t believe I did that.”

A slow smile spreads across my face. “I can’t either.” I guess I don’t have to worry about her being embarrassed about me, about us, anymore. She just made our relationship known in front of the whole auditorium. Any chance she may have had to slip away unnoticed evaporated the second she bounded down to the front with an arm full of flowers. For me.

Another knock. This time accompanied by a voice. “Damian? Uh, you … left your flowers on stage.” I recognize the voice as Barbara, the orchestra manager.

With a sigh, I realize she won’t go away until I at least talk to her. Gripping Charlie’s arms, I draw her gaze to my face. “Text your driver. Tell him to meet us by the stage door. Once he’s here, we’ll leave, okay?”

She nods. “Right. Of course.”

She pulls out of my grip and gets out her phone, moving to stand by my case so she’ll be blocked by the door when I open it. Which I only do a crack, just enough for my face and left arm to fit through so I can retrieve the flowers. Because that’s what I care about right now.

Barbara cranes her neck, trying to see behind me, but I’m filling the opening so that she can only see above my head. Which, since she’s a good six inches shorter than me, means she can only see the ceiling tiles.

I extend my hand through the opening, and she stares at it. “The flowers?”

“Oh! Right. Of course. Here.” She places the bouquet in my hand, a mix of different colored roses.

“Thanks, Barbara. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to stay for the reception. I’m sure you understand.”

Her brows pull together, and she gives her head a little shake, her iron gray bob swaying with the movement. “Oh … but the winners are supposed to …”

I give her a sympathetic smile. “I know. And I’m terribly sorry. Please communicate my apologies to the conductor and the other performers, as well as the audience members. Something rather … urgent has come up, and I won’t be able to stay for the rest of the concert.”

“That’s … but—”

“Again, I’m very sorry. Thanks again, Barbara. I’ll be sure to contact the conductor personally once the situation is … resolved.” I give her one last closed-mouth smile and close the door. In her confused face. I feel like a dick, but I don’t have a choice. Charlie can’t stay. She’ll be mobbed.We’llbe mobbed.

Hell, even if she leaves, the people approaching me will be talking to me about her more than my performance. What happened at Marycliff after her identity came out and the spring semester started taught me that much.

We have to leave.

When I turn to Charlie, she has a smirk on her face. Laying the flowers on the built-in vanity, I narrow my eyes at her. “What?”

Her eyes drift down to my crotch. “Something urgent hascome up, huh?”

Crossing my arms, I let out a snort.

She opens her mouth to say something else, but her phone vibrates before she can say it, pulling her attention. “My driver’s here.”

When her eyes meet mine again, the humor is gone, her expression serious. “I’m sorry, Damian. I didn’t mean …” She throws her hands up in the air and lets them fall to hit her thighs. “I wasn’t trying to make your life more difficult. I’ve always wanted to avoid that. I just …” She looks away for a second, blinking, then looks me in the eye again. “I was so excited for you. Your performance was so amazing. I wanted to be the one to give you the flowers.”

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