Nailed it!

As he walked out of Atlanta Symphony Hall, trumpet case slung over his shoulder, Mike Braxton couldn't help but walk with an air of confidence. He currently held the assistant principal trumpet position in the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra, and had just finished his first audition to succeed the principal trumpet player after his retirement at the end of the month. While he always had confidence in his abilities, today seemed totally different, almost as though he was possessed while on stage.

"Well, well," Mike heard a voice call out. "Someone seems very pleased with himself."

He turned to find Darcy White, the principal bassoonist for the ASO, sitting on a bench outside the symphony hall.

"Who? Me?" Mike responded with his trademark sarcasm.

Darcy laughed, shooting back, "Matter of fact, I haven't seen that kind of swagger from you since that final jazz band concert senior year."

Mike remembered that concert like it was yesterday. "Well how could I not enjoy that? Closing out my final year at Clarke Mountain High by soloing Chuck Mangione's Feels So Good? That's livin' the dream for any trumpet player worth his salt." Sitting next to Darcy on the bench, he continued, "I presume you're stalking me to find out how the audition went?"

She narrowed her eyes. "That was my original intent, but actions speak louder than words. Besides, even with you being the egotistical trumpet player I know you are, you never seem this confident without good reason. Think today was enough to get you into the final round next Friday?"

"I really hope so," Mike responded. "It's impossible to say for sure, since this portion was a blind audition, making me little more than a number to the committee. Still, I can honestly say that's the best audition I've ever had in my life, so if that doesn't get me a shot at the principal chair, I don't know what will."

"Good enough for me. Oh, also wanted to make sure you knew, the High is having a sale of artwork today." She pointed across the courtyard towards the High Museum of Art. "It's only open to ASO musicians, so you never know. You might even find something that catches your eye. Wanna come with?"

As artistically inclined as Mike was, he never has been big on paintings. Still, he knew Darcy was into art of all kinds, and as easy as she has always been to hang with, he knew better than to turn down that request. "Sure, why not? I'm done with work early today with the audition, so I'll still be able to beat rush hour."

They got up and started their walk across the courtyard toward the entrance to the museum. As he trailed a step behind her, Mike couldn't help but notice that Darcy looked really nice today. About 5'4" with short, sandy brown hair, she wore a pair of tan shorts, perfect for the spring weather of early May in Atlanta. The shorts went about halfway down her thigh, and were just barely tight enough to show the curve of her petite ass. Her faded blue t-shirt hugged her frame nicely, subtly drawing attention to her bust. Mike guessed she was about a B cup, though he was certainly no expert.

Who said I never admire works of art?

Even with said admiration, Mike and Darcy's relationship had always been a purely platonic one, going all the way back to high school. She always had a boyfriend, but she and Mike still had a level of comfort with each other, being able to give advice and criticism effectively on all manner of topics, be it music, school, or even dating. Her ability to keep up with his dry, sarcastic wit didn't hurt either, as well as throw it right back at him. She had frequently mentioned, "If someone didn't know we were close friends, they'd think we hated each other!"

"Now, you'd better not be staring at my butt." Darcy threw a look over her shoulder, flashing that mischievous grin she was famous around the orchestra for. She knew she had caught him red-handed.

"Of course not, wouldn't think of it! It's not like I'm an average guy who enjoys appreciating the artwork of the female form, particularly one with such a perfectly rounded and tiny butt. You must have confused me with someone else…"

Mike knew damn well that it was better to play into this situation than deny it with Darcy. Besides, this sort of banter came extremely easily with her.

"Good. After all, you know I'm on the rebound, and that could be considered taking advantage of poor, little-ole' me!" Darcy responded, over doing her southern accent for the last four words.

Mike laughed. "First of all, you're lucky I know you're kidding, and not leading me on, little missy," he said, pretending to scold her by raising his index finger. "Secondly, you've probably figured out that… well… I'm in the same situation." Mike's voice softened to a more serious tone.

Darcy frowned slightly. "I heard you and Amanda broke up. Wasn't she your college sweetheart though? I thought you were gonna marry her?"

If she only knew how squarely she had hit the nail on the head. In probably the worst day of Mike's twenty-six years, Amanda had ended their nearly four year long relationship via text message, followed by a complete refusal to answer his calls. An hour after he received her text, Mike got a call from the jeweler to inform him the engagement ring he purchased was ready for pickup, twisting the proverbial knife in all the right ways. Thankfully, in the six months between then and today's audition, Mike threw himself into his work and music, drastically improving his skills, while also gaining an enormous amount of trust and respect from the trumpet section in the process.

The only difficulty he experienced in those six months was the inevitable return of contact from Amanda. She, of course, had realized the hastiness of her decision, and wanted him back. While Mike could easily have rubbed it in, or even refused to talk to her, he convinced himself to do the honorable, decent thing and tell her, face-to-face, how much she had hurt him, that he had no desire to get back together with her, but that he also wanted her to learn from her decision and move on with her love life. It took some doing, but he finally convinced her that pining over losing him would be extremely unhealthy not only for her, but also for the man she would eventually end up spending her life with.

Yep, he had thought many times, sure it would be fun to do the petty thing once in a while and stick her nose in it. That damn code of morality and trying to live a Godly life thing.

"You're right, I was hers. And she apparently decided all of a sudden that she wasn't ready, and the only course of action was to end a relationship of almost four years. No biggie," Mike responded, his words dripping with sarcasm. "In all seriousness though, it's for the best. I know what I want from here on, and I won't be wasting time with someone who isn't on the same page as me."

Darcy's grin returned. "So, no more Mr. College Playboy then?"

"HA! Please. Need I remind you that I'm the one constantly getting flack from every guy I know for not 'playing the field' more in college?" Mike shot back.

"Fair enough, fair enough…" Darcy conceded. "Pretty sure mine was for the best, too. Steven never was physically abusive, but his temper kept getting the best of him. Oh, and just because you noticed those things while we were still together does NOT give you permission to rub it in!" she interjected before Mike could claim the 'I told you so.' He threw his hands up, trying to profess innocence, but Mike just couldn't suppress that smug grin of having called it correctly.

By now, they had made it inside the museum and were beginning to browse the selections on sale that day. Most of the works were by local artists looking for connections and exposure, not to mention some money to alleviate the starving half of being a starving artist. While Darcy stopped at a booth full of abstract paintings, Mike strolled around the exhibit hall leisurely. His eye soon noticed a stunningly beautiful woman working a table at the very end of the room.

He tried his best not to blatantly stare as he approached her. She was tall, easily six feet, with dark curly hair extending halfway down her back. Her skin was a gorgeous shade of mocha brown, with a pair of blue skinny jeans and a snug black tank top accentuating her delightfully curvy figure. As he approached, she greeted him warmly. "Good afternoon, sir." She spoke with a very slight accent that Mike couldn't quite place. Possibly from somewhere in the Middle East, though he couldn't be sure.

"Hi, how is it going today? My name's Mike." He extended his hand, and she shook it gently.

"A pleasure, Mike. I'm Selena. I trust you are interested in my wares that I bought today?"

"Wares, eh?" Her wording confused him a bit. "Does that mean you're selling more than just artwork today?"

"Come and see for yourself," she said with a wink.

Browsing her table, Selena had lots of jewelry for sale, all of it hand made. As he looked, she explained that her family was originally from Iran, but came to America when she was ten years old. Far from the typical girly-girl, she developed a particular aptitude for shop class and metalworking in high school, leading her to start her jewelry business. In addition, almost all the pieces she had for sale were clearly inspired by her Middle Eastern roots.

"See anything you like? Perhaps something for a special lady in your life?"

Mike responded, "I'm afraid you're about six months too late for that sales pitch."

She studied him rather intently for a few moments. "You were in love, weren't you?"

Damn! She can see right through anything!

"Uh…" was all Mike could say in response.

She quickly backtracked, "I'm so sorry! Please forgive my bluntness. I have always been quite good at reading emotions, but I forget sometimes that there is an appropriate time and place for voicing such observations."

"No, no, it's just fine. Matter of fact, you hit the nail on the head." Mike related the story of Amanda's break up text, followed by the poor timing of the engagement ring, and the work he had to do to convince her to move on when she tried to come back to him.