Page 51 of The Bratva's Christmas Bump
18
HOLLIE
Performing on a Sunday is always strange. While New York City never sleeps, I’m usually hired for late-night events during the week or a party on Saturday, but the client Tiffany put me in touch with booked me for Sunday evening.
With Maxim already busy with work, I had to turn to Stu and Toto to take me to the party.
“Are you sure this is the right address?” Toto leans up from his seat and peers out the window, and Stu pulls onto a long winding drive that leads up to a gigantic square house ablaze with golden light.
“Mhm.” I double-check my phone. “Yeah, this is the place. Is something wrong?”
Stu glances over his shoulder. “Does Maxim know?”
“I told him I had to work. I didn’t tell him where. Why, what’s wrong?”
Toto and Stu exchange a silent glance and my frustration builds. Snatching up my violin case, I hold it in my lap while glaringat Toto. “The silent treatment sucks, by the way. If there’s something wrong with my being here, then you'd better tell me because I can’t afford to cancel this gig.”
“Money isn’t the issue,” Toto remarks, bringing his phone out from his pocket.
“Maybe not, but my reputation can’t be bought and I don’t need another cancellation on my bookings. So is there a problem?” I can’t imagine what the issue could be other than the fact that we’re on the outskirts of the city. If this goes against one of Maxim’s secret rules that I know nothing about, then I’ll be having strong words with him later.
Toto stares at his phone for a long moment, then he looks at Stu. “There’s no problem?”
“You sure?” Stu’s brows lift.
“Yup.”
Since they refuse to clue me in, I open the door and slip from the car with a grunt. Toto’s exclamation barely reaches me as I clutch my dress up to my knees and stomp up the driveway, leaving the two of them to keep their secrets while I get to work. Regardless of Maxim’s influence over my life now, I’m not turning away from my music for anyone.
I climb six white stone steps to a white and gold front door that opens the moment I reach the top. A man dressed in a black suit with dark shades tilts his head at me while I place my best smile across my lips.
“Hi, I’m Hollie Wolfe. I’m booked in for three hours of music?”
“ID?” The man speaks with a waspish voice.
Digging in my purse, I locate my ID just as Toto and Stu arrive behind me, but for some reason, the man loses interest in my ID and waves me inside without a word.
“What is going on?” I murmur, stepping into an extravagantly decorated hallway with large stairs ascending up to the next floor where they split in two directions, right and left.
“Miss Wolfe?” A woman with poker-straight dark hair hurries up to me wearing a navy blue dress.
“That’s me.”
“Right this way, my dear. You’re right on time!”
I only manage to glance at Toto before I’m whisked through to the next room and helped up onto a small black stage that surrounds a crystal Christmas tree. The lights are turned low and the woman, who introduces herself as Lara, brings me water while I get set up. Three hours of violin work is a challenge solo, but as Lara goes over the song requests with me, the room begins to fill up.
Countless men in gorgeously tailored suits and women in sparkling dresses more expensive than the mortgage on my parents’ house glide in like sparkling angels, and soon, the room is filled with warmth and the gentle murmur of conversation. Lara wishes me luck and melts off the stage, leaving me to my dark corner.
So I begin to play.
Music is where I find peace. With the violin under my chin and the bow resting in my fingers like an extension of my own soul, I pour everything into my performance. I was hired to be background, but as I weave multiple songs together, asmall crowd begins to grow near the stage. One woman sways back and forth, dabbing the corners of her eyes, while another clutches at her pearls as if my music keeps her on the very edge of an abyss. The crowd grows until soft applause ripples through the room each time I pause. One pause lasts fifteen minutes where Lara brings me ice water to combat the heat, an energy bar, and praise from the host, a man I haven’t even met.
While chewing quickly on the sweet cherry and dark chocolate bar, I bring the water bottle to my lips… and freeze.
In the crowd, standing almost a head above everyone else, is a familiar set of deep blue eyes that lock onto me and don’t waver.
Maxim.
