Page 27 of All The Wrong Notes

The fundraiser now took much of Elise’s time at work, as did the new session of community classes and events at the centre. The after-school programs for the underprivileged kids ran the entire academic year, but there was still some change-over of both students and instructors when the school term ended with the close of January. Thankfully the system Kevin had set in place worked smoothly, and she would have to send him a big thank you note and present once the event was over.

Gwen was around the centre often. She had taken over a room that had literally been a broom closet, but that was big enough—barely—for a small desk and chair, and she used this as her centre of operations for her grand mural plan. She was always busy, rushing here and there, measuring this and staring intently at that, or introducing herself around the place.

Elise was amused that Gwen avoided using her given name. The young woman explained she wanted to succeed on her own merit rather than on her family connections, and had opted for the pseudonym Georgia Marshall, which had been her grandmother’s name. Those who knew who she was respected her choice, and the secret, such that it was, was well kept. This was how she had been introduced to everyone at the centre, and calls of “Hi, Georgia,” resonated everywhere she went.

Gwen popped into Elise’s office about once a day for a chat, often bringing with her a steaming cup of something coffee-flavoured and a tasty treat—usually a fruit and cheese Danish—and if Elise hadn’t already liked her young friend, this gesture alone would have done the job.

Choir rehearsals started up again as well, in preparation for Mozart’s triumphant ‘Coronation Mass’ they would sing in April. To Elise’s surprise, Kevin was not among the tenors. He had, Randall explained, taken a job in a different city and had left the choir. This news was met by disappointed moues on the faces of the flocks of single ladies who had liked to gather around him to admire his lovely blue eyes and blond curls, but with some significant relief on Elise’s part. It would have been very awkward to be around him after having booted him from the arts centre’s cadre of volunteers.

Funny that he hadn’t said anything about his new job, though. Elise wondered if he had it lined up already, which is why he was so nonchalant about her request for him to leave the centre, or if he had looked for something after their conversation a few weeks ago.

No matter. Everything had worked out for the best, and she wished him luck in his new position, wherever it was.

* * *

“Spill, girlfriend.” Janet’s sparkling green eyes bored into Elise’s own as they sat at their favourite pub after that first rehearsal.

Ashleigh and Masako had come for a few minutes but had to leave early, and Carlos had gone straight home after rehearsal, having work to do. Now it was just the two friends, and Janet, it seemed, wasn’t going to back down.

“None of your business,” Elise tried. She knew it was useless, but she had to make the attempt. “I’m not the sort to kiss and tell.”

“Ooooh, there’s kissing!” Janet sipped her wine. “A lot of kissing? Where? Is he good?”

“Janet!” Elise couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re relentless. Okay, yes, there’s kissing. Will is a very sweet man under that haughty exterior. I think growing up with dollar signs printed all over his back hasn’t quite been the wonderful experience so many people think it is. He’s really dreadfully shy.”

Janet’s eyes shouted, Told you so! but Elise ignored them.

“He is very sweet. He brought me back a gorgeous hand-woven summer shawl from Tortola. It’s like wearing the Caribbean, with pretty shades of blues and greens. I think Gwen helped him choose it.”

“I’m not asking about his taste in accessories.”

Another laugh. “He picks me up from work a few times a week, and we see each other on weekends. Sometimes we just go for walks, but it’s been a bit cold. Sometimes we go to his place and sing—”

“Oh, is that what they’re calling it now?”

Elise flicked a stray piece of nacho at her. “And a couple of times we’ve been to bars or restaurants where there’s been a good jazz band playing. As for the rest, I’m not telling.”

“Then,” Janet smirked, “I’ll have to assume the worst, and imagine that you’re not telling so that every other woman in Toronto doesn’t get all jealous. Drink up, and I’ll drive you home.”

Things had, indeed, progressed. Will was opening up more and more to Elise, telling stories of his childhood, both the good and the bad. She laughed with him at his funnier stories, but often felt her eyes mist up when he related some of the difficulties he’d had as the horribly shy child who was always at the centre of everyone’s attention. For a while, he had convinced his parents to send him to a private school under a different name, and had enjoyed that short time of anonymity, but his secret was spilled all too quickly, and once again, he became the new obsession of all the kids who had hardly said hello to him two days prior.

“You didn’t like being popular?”

They were lying on the large couch in Will’s family room, overlooking the pool at the back of the house. January’s snows had left the trees bare and the skies were grey, but here, with a fire dancing in the fireplace, it was cosy. Will was on his back, head propped on the arm of the couch, and Elise half-lay on top of him, legs tangled together with his to keep them from tumbling off. In this comfortable, familiar spot, Will had felt free to unburden himself of some unhappy childhood memories.

He paused a moment to consider her question. “Not that way, no. I wanted one or two close friends who didn’t care who my parents were. When the other kids in the class found out, it was dreadful. Half of them didn’t even want to hang out with me, but their parents made them. I’m a social disaster, but I’m not stupid. I know what those whispers and half-hidden eye-rolls mean. It’s worse than being left out.”

Elise let her hand run up the row of buttons on his shirt from where it had been resting, just below his breastbone. She began playing with the buttons, but didn’t say anything, and Will continued.

“I suppose I just hate being the centre of attention.”

She snickered. “You’re in the wrong business. I know that’s different, because it’s a persona you can put on and then take off. But what about when you play music? You’re literally in the spotlight then.” Two buttons were now undone.

“It’s also different.” He moved a bit to give her better access to the rest of the front of his shirt. She licked her lips, which he pretended to ignore. “There, people want something I’m willing to give. It’s the same reason I enjoy cooking for people. It’s not tangible. It won’t make them rich, or give them something they can boast about. But it can make them happy. It’s a different sort of wanting, and one I like.”

“You make me happy,” she purred, as the buttons at his belly succumbed to her efforts.

“The music is special. It’s more special when you’re there with me. Everything is more special with you, Lise.” He reached his head up for a kiss. Then he sucked in a quick breath as her fingers moved from his buttons to his belt.

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