"Ugh, I'm late again.
Today was not the day I would be early even though I had planned not to be.
The sun rays from my curtains confirmed that the sun had already set. I raced through the back entrance of the Musix Theatre. I was in such a hurry that I accidentally banged into a catering cart with my viola case. I panicked and squeaked, stopping to check that I had not destroyed any of the dishes.
Thankfully, the chocolate fountain looked sinfully perfect still. A familiar pair of brown eyes peeked around the three-tiered dish of pastries, and I heard a sigh.
"Sorry!" I flashed an apologetic smile to the pastry chef.
"Late for today's show, huh?" he asked as he pushed the cart safely past me.
"I think we both are," I pointed out. The chocolate should already be in the reception for the guests already.
Manuel shook his head, his wide mouth curving into a grin. "I know better than to leave chocolate unguarded for too long around you people."
"That's fair," I agreed with him. Nearly anyone who worked in the events business long enough should have perfected the skill of pilfering off catering trays and artfully rearranging them to hide the evidence. No chocolate was safe around this crew.
Most of the people here worked for the catering company connected to the London Performing Arts Center. The complex hosted the city's party, symphony, and opera, as well as a veteran's memorial. With some of the largest and most beautiful buildings in the Reve Area, more social events happened here than performances. These days, school events, weddings and birthday celebrations did more to shore up the center's expenses than productions of The Swan Lake or symphony orchestras.
That's why I was here.
Not because I worked in catering as much as I loved the chocolate, but because the singer tonight required a violinist.
I rushed down to the kitchen instead of the dressing room to get a biscuit as I had not had any food since. I know I won't be able to function well without some snacks.
I propped my case outside the kitchen and sneaked inside, doing my best to stay out of the way. I took the yield of a piece before I was caught.
I walked carefully out of the kitchen, turning to a corner and ducked into a cramped room. The support area served as a place for us hired event musicians to prep for the event. The mismatched furniture had been shoved to one corner to give the four of us enough room to move. Right now, it looked like someone had shoved a bunch of adults into a closet.
"I'm here!" I checked my watch to see that we weren't due to set up in the ballroom for another five minutes. I got blank nods from Sam and Jason, who were more focused on their cellos than on my arrival.
We were different people with different desires. Sam had retired from the symphony years ago and played for fun. Like me, Jason was hoping a spot opened for a full-time seat with the orchestra soon. Since we didn't play the same instrument, we'd avoided becoming rivals. Mostly. I couldn't say the same for the fourth member of our ensemble. She saw every musician, regardless of their instrument, as competition.
Our fourth, Drizella D'Alba, always looked more like a guest than the entertainment. She currently was more focused on checking her appearance than her viola. Today was no exception. She wore a strapless black gown that swept the floor and her thick black hair up in a graceful twist. Her figure, soft and curving, matched her full lips, which were painted a vivid red that contrasted with her olive skin.
Drizella was the second chair for the city's symphony orchestra. I'd never had the guts to ask her why she moonlighted with our quartet for events, and she had never offered the information.
"It's unprofessional to show up dressed already," Drizella shot at me. She stood and finally took out her instrument. Her eyes flickered over my worn, black dress with distaste as she checked its strings. "Also, didn't you wear that on Tuesday?"
"Yes, but I promise it's clean. I had an afternoon session that ran late, so I changed before I came." I forced a bright smile. Drizella was hard to like, but I was determined to kill her with kindness. So far, that only seemed to annoy her more. Of course, complete frustration was Drizella's default setting.
There wasn't enough time to deal with Drizella's frivolous talks, I quickly put on a dash of lip gloss. I couldn't help thinking Drizella might be right about my clothes, though. The long black dress I wore for performances was clean and wrinkle-free, but the color had faded to dark gray. That wasn't a surprise, given that my mother had found it in her closet a couple of years ago. The tag was long gone, but she swore it was designer. I was pretty sure she bought it for a funeral. A fact I did my best not to think about. Death and parties, even parties I was working, weren't a good combo.
"Guests are arriving. They're ready for us," Sam announced, putting a stop to my thought of Drizella's words of my dress.
I took one last swallow and braced myself for a long night.
I hurried to take my viola out of its case as the others left the room. I made my way quickly down the hall into the Green Room, named for its distinctive color. I thought it looked more palladium blue than green. Maybe the gilt detail and five giant chandeliers made it look green to others.
As soon as I stepped inside, I nearly ran into the others. They'd all stopped a few feet inside to stare at something, instruments still in hand.
"What is it?" I asked, trying to peek around them. I was too short to see over any of their shoulders.
"I think it's a modeling party," Jason mumbled.
I elbowed him, and he finally moved over enough for me to see what he was talking about.
The most stunning people I'd ever seen mingled under the room's soaring ceilings. Every person I saw was good-looking, drop down gorgeous. Every. Single. One.
There was a tall brunette standing in a corner draped in a shimmery fabric that flowed down her flawless figure like liquid gold. A handsome man with jet-black skin that almost gleamed was speaking with a petite blonde in the corner. It took effort to tear my eyes away from the group. I looked up to find Jason with a dazed look on his face.
"Close your mouth. You're drooling," I muttered to him. Not that I could blame him. We were practically mortals in the presence of gods.
"It's probably just a plastic surgery convention," Sam said with an unimpressed shrug. "We better get to it."
We found our music stands and chairs near the bar. I took my spot, forcing myself to pay attention to my viola instead of gawking more at our patrons for the evening. I adjusted my posture, angling my viola just so that I'd have the best angle for my bow. Then I checked my music sheets.
"Sam led us into the first piece, and I relaxed into the notes. The dull throb of anticipation I always got at the start of a performance began to fade, replaced by the music. When I was playing, the rest of the world melted away. My student loans didn't matter. Mom's hospital bills didn't exist. I wasn't caught in a rivalry with my fellow musicians. Everything was simply right. Everything was in harmony.
One melody shifted to another. I lost track of time, completely immersed in the music. My eyes closed as I played the last notes in the andante con moto from Schubert's Death and the Maiden. I vaguely heard Sam announce that we would take a twenty-minute break. I lingered in the final sad crescendo. A sense of longing always remained in me after we finished this selection.
When I finally emerged from my trance, the others had already left. I gradually noticed the murmur of voices around me. I took a deep breath and lowered my bow. Awareness crept over my body, skittering up the back of my neck like spider legs, and I looked up into the most handsome face I'd ever seen. I gasped, but it wasn't the man's beauty that surprised me. It was the murderous look in his piercing blue eyes.