Page 58 of Phantom
“Oh…” I sag into the seat. “You’ve been trying to help me this whole time?”
“I failed you once, Scarlett. I refuse to fail you again. You just have to trust me.”
I nod slowly and my nose scrunches while I try to organize all this information in my mind. While I’m thinking, I stare out at the shops and restaurants whizzing past my window, one by one, until I finally make my decision.
Sol’s methods may be completely unorthodox—a.k.a. illegal—but everything he’s done has been in my best interest. When he speaks, my heart and body trust him completely, sometimes obeying commands before I even register what he’s said. It’s just my mind that’s hanging on to those last threads of doubt. It’s time I trust him there, too.
“Okay…” I exhale out all my tired objections, ready to turn over a new leaf. “Where are we going?”
He shifts slightly and I can see the lopsided grin lift the left side of his face. “Treme. I have some business to take care of—”
Business? Like what? And with who—
No. Nope. No more questions. Just trust the man for once.
“Sounds… good.” And with that, I finally give in.
As if to punctuate the end of our conversation, Sol activates the Bluetooth speaker and a beautiful piano piece by Ludovico Einaudi filters through the speakers.
“I lovePrimavera! It’s one of my favorites—” I stop midsentence when I see his right ear lift, as if that side of his face is trying to smile, too. “Let me guess. You knew that, didn’t you?”
“Guilty.”
A chuckle escapes me. “Is there anything youdon’tknow about me?”
“Not for long, if I can help it.”
I laugh outright at his honesty and sit back to hum the music. We take a few turns into the Treme neighborhood, and somehow Sol patiently resists ramming the drunken revelers that permeate New Orleans this time of night.
After a few more songs, we both get lost in humming a rendition of “The Flower Duet” from the operaLakmé. I’ve used it as an audition piece before, so the words come easily to me, but when Sol finds the low harmony in his deep voice, our own duet gives me goose bumps and my stomach flips with excitement over our sound. When the song finishes, we let the next begin, but we’re too busy grinning like fools to sing.
“So tell me, my demon of music. Where the hell did you learn to sing like that? Did you go to Bordeaux Conservatory too? Or does talent just run in the family?”
He huffs a laugh. “It definitely doesnotrun in the family. My father couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, and my brother’s even worse. My mother loved to sing, and I wanted to please her, so I learned music at the French boarding school Ben and I attended.”
“Seriously? Rand went to boarding school in France. Was it the same one?”
Sol sucks his teeth and I immediately regret the question. The anger that rolls off him makes me shudder, but when he answers me, his voice is just as soothing as ever. Not a trace of that underlying rage is aimed at me.
“Yes, we went to the same boarding school. Rand’s attendance was meant to be an olive branch between his family and mine. Our families were competitors during Prohibition and thanks to some shady business dealings onbothsides, the Bordeauxs and Chatelains have been rivals ever since. My mother wanted things to be different with us, and my father could never say no to her, so they struck a deal with the Chatelains. They forced us to go to school together,awayfrom their feud, so that our generation would be the first without conflict.”
“But that didn’t happen,” I hedge.
“We have a truce.” He squeezes my hand before resting our clasped fingers where my dress’s slit reveals my thigh. “But that’s not your concern. Not tonight, at least.”
A truce… I like the sound of that. Could that mean their hatred for each other can be set aside? I’ll have to wait and save those questions for another night.
“Okay… so tell me about boarding school. What was it like?”
“Ahh, boarding school, where rich kids learn how to work hard and play harder. When I wasn’t being a hellion, I studied music and martial arts. Also fencing, but that was just so I could beat my brother. He never trained as much as I did. Still doesn’t. But Ben was an overachiever everywhere else. My passion was to make music and travel the world. Ben wanted to save it. When we quit boarding school at fifteen, we turned to private homeschooling. After that, Ben went to LSU and Loyola College of Law. I took up the security side of our family business and I compose music whenever I can, jazz and blues mostly.”
“Ugh, IwishI’d studied jazz. That’s my dream. Jazz and music composition. I’ve always wanted to go solo, but I… I haven’t yet,” I finish simply, not wanting to go into all my inner doubts right now.
“You would be amazing at it,” Sol answers. “Your vocals are a dream for opera, but with your voice and your knack for writing lyrics… Scarlett Day, you were made for your own spotlight.”
My cheeks heat. “My dad always talked about how hard it was—”
Sol snorts. “He’s right. Itishard. But you work hard at what you love. That combination will make the difficult things worth it when you achieve your dream.”
