Page 31 of The Bonventi Rise
We turn to the kids, their faces glowing with smiles.
The woman turns to me.
"Your fiancée has quite the talent with the harp," Vanessa says. "The way she played Handel's Harp Concerto in B-Flat Major? Breathtaking."
I smile. "Yes, so talented," I say, wrapping my arm around Alina. "And full of surprises. It's what makes being with her so special."
"Aww, you two are such a lovely couple."
"Oh, sorry," Alina says. "This is Vanessa Sims. She runs this program to teach kids about music."
"Such a lovely endeavor," I say, slipping into political mode.
"Yes, thank you for raising awareness. Alina's passion for music education has been incredible. These kids come from financial hardships, so for many, music scholarships are their only path to college."
"Well, I'll see what I can do," I say, shaking Vanessa's hand.
The meet-and-greet drags on, but Alina's performance replays in my mind. Every time I look at her, I don't just see my campaign manager. I see a talented, beautiful woman.
After the pictures and her showing the kids how to play a few chords on the harp, there's a lull, and we finally have a break. I approach her, gently grab her arm, and pull her away from the crowd to the corner of the room.
"Firefly, explain yourself," I say in a playful, demanding tone.
She smiles. "Oh, did I not mention I played the harp?"
"Ha, ha, funny. No, you didn't."
"Well, I'm a real person, you know. While you may only look at me as your fake fiancée or manager for your own goals, I do have interests."
Her words, though maybe not intended to sting, cut deep, and I immediately feel that defensive instinct flare—the kind you get when you know you're in the wrong but feel you need to stand your ground anyway.
"What does that mean?" I ask.
She rolls her eyes. "Nothing."
I sigh, because I know she's right. She has to be right. She entered my mind as a pawn for my gain, and I'm sure that's how I've come across despite the turmoil in my head. I mean, if I was so sure of myself or how I felt about her, then why would I avoid her?
"Look, I'm sorry. You're right. Let me start over. You play beautifully."
She gives me a side-eye.
"You don't have to humor me."
"No, no, seriously. I mean, I may not know what the whole B-Flat Major thing is, and I may or may not exactly know who the hell Handel is, but I know what I heard," I say, grabbing her by the shoulders. "And it was amazing, Alina. You were amazing."
I can feel her tense shoulders relax under my fingers.
"Really? You're not just saying that?"
I shake my head and slide my hands down her arms. In one bold, unthinking moment, I grab her hands, squeeze them tightly, and hold them.
I feel something stir in me that I've never felt for any woman before.
After a few seconds, the fear of it overtakes me, and I let go. "Sorry, I don't… anyhow, no, I'm serious. I could watch you play for hours."
There's a slight pause between us, and I feel my face getting hot. I can also see Alina's face flush slightly red.
I clear my throat, trying to shake off the intensity of the moment we just shared. "So, why the harp?" I ask, genuinely curious. "It's not exactly a common choice."
