Chapter 17
Tony a watched Gage set her bags on the floor next to the closet in the bedroom across the hall from his. The security team had conducted an extensive sweep of the entire property, including the gardens, and found no evidence of an intrusion. Mark told Gage he planned to call St. John to inform him that he would have a two-man team remain on the property until the work crew arrived the following morning.
When she’d sat in Hannah’s sunroom what now seemed eons ago, Tonya could not have predicted that hours later she would sleep in a bedroom under the roof of the man with whom she found herself falling in love.
“Have you had dinner?” he asked her.
She turned to look at him. “No, but I don’t want to eat anything that’s too heavy.”
“I can offer you a choice of an asparagus, artichoke, and lobster salad or salmon salade Niçoise.”
“I’ll have the salmon.”
He smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Tonya returned his smile. “Do you need a sous chef? I could make the vinaigrette,” she said when he hesitated.
“Sure. Give me a few minutes to change into something more comfortable, and I’ll join you in the kitchen.”
She nodded. “While you’re changing, I’ll unpack my bags and put my stuff away.”
* * *
Tonya, standing next to Gage and cutting red and green peppers into julienne strips, felt that being with him was as natural as breathing. Even if they hadn’t agreed on the pace or the direction their relationship would take, there was no doubt they were completely in sync when it came to cooking together.
Gage had put on a playlist featuring blues and jazz songs by Billie Holiday, Sarah Vaughn, and Etta James. “You’re really feeling the girls tonight.”
“I’m trying to determine which songs I’m going to use for the school’s spring concert.”
“What about Roberta Flack? I remember my mother telling me that she and my dad drove to Hampton University just to see her in concert. Daddy played her ‘Compared to What’ so much that I was tempted to scratch the record. But I knew how much he coveted his record collection, so I decided earplugs were a better solution. It was only when I grew older that I came to love her voice.”
Lowering his head, Gage kissed her hair. “Thank you for reminding me about Roberta.”
“Tell me about your concert.” Gage revealed the concert committee’s plans for a journey of music and dance beginning with the human voice on the continent of Africa and ending with emergence of music’s latest genres: rap and hip-hop.
“We plan to showcase dances from all over the world.”
“That sounds daunting.”
“Not really. We’re planning acts lasting three minutes, which translates into twenty acts per hour. The concert usually runs for two hours, but this year the committee decided to extend it by a half hour. There will be a brief intermission after ninety minutes to give the audience a chance to catch their breath.”
Tonya was totally transfixed as Gage outlined the dances from the different countries that would showcase their culture. He talked about the relationship between Irish step dancing and American tap, scatting and rap, and Negro spirituals and blues.
She pointed to the tattooed notes on his right arm. “What are those notes?”
“They’re from Handel’s ‘Messiah,’ which I personally believe is the most magnificent piece of music ever written.”
The conversation segued from music to dance, and Tonya was amazed as to his breadth of musical knowledge until he boasted proudly that he had graduated from one of the world’s preeminent performing arts conservatories.
“Bragging, darling?”
“Hell, yeah, babe.”
“Do you have any students that stand out from the others?”
“That’s a difficult question to answer, because most are extremely talented. And if any of them want to audition for Julliard, I wouldn’t hesitate to write a letter of recommendation. What’s so amazing is that many of my students didn’t begin playing an instrument until middle school, and what I’m trying to do is boost their confidence. Since substituting for the orchestra teacher, I’ve established a practice where I arbitrarily call on a student to come up and play a solo in front of the class.”
Tonya halted slicing shallots. “Isn’t that intimidating?”
