He felt her lips curve against the skin of his shoulder. “Love you, Daniel,” she whispered.
Chapter Thirty
Addison wasn’t surprised to wake up alone the next morning, though she was disappointed. She sensed he wasn’t in the apartment so didn’t bother calling out to him. She rolled off the high bed and felt around for her clothes, which he’d folded neatly on his desk. She left his apartment quickly and made her way down to hers. She took the elevator, wanting to get there quickly. She wanted to call him and make sure things were okay between them.
Addison felt a sense of urgency as she entered her apartment and reached for her phone. She told Siri what number to call and sighed as it went straight to voicemail. “Hey Daniel, it’s just me. Can you call me when you get this? If not, then I guess I’ll see you later tonight.”
She hated the desperate note of question in her voice, but she couldn’t seem to help it. When a woman told a guy that she loved him, but didn’t hear the words back she tended to get a little jumpy. She kept her phone with her as she showered and got dressed. After, she rifled listlessly through her wardrobe, wondering what to wear. She wanted to wear something pretty in case Daniel did stop by to see her later, but she didn’t want to appear like she was dressing up for him.
“Darn it!” she huffed in exasperation. “It’s not like I even know what I look like!”
She yanked a long white cotton skirt with a five inch frill along the hem off a hanger and matched it with a watermelon coloured top that dipped temptingly into her cleavage. At least she hoped it was watermelon coloured. She hadn’t worn it in a while and couldn’t quite remember what the shop person had told her. Oh well, whatever colour it was, it wasn’t going to clash with white unless it was off-white. Then she would look like an escapee of some sort of cult.
She paired the outfit with leather flip-flops that had coins sewn into the tops and jingled when she walked. She thought the outfit was bohemian pretty, but casual, exactly what she needed to face the day. Picking up her purse, cello and cane, Addison made her way down to the lobby, out the front door of the building and toward the subway with the intention of spending a busy day at work not thinking about Daniel Mercer.
Which was pretty much exactly what she got. Maestro was full steam ahead with his Summer program, which required Addison’s full attention. There was in-fighting amongst the entire orchestra about what pieces should be played for the upcoming Atlantic Cities Cooperative Tour (ACCT), which apparently only Addison could solve. Although she did have a brief panicked thought about Daniel at this point in her day when she realized she was going to have to tell him she needed to go on tour for two weeks. She was pretty sure she could imagine that conversation.
Daniel: No.
Addison: But it’s my job.
Daniel: NO.
Addison: But I’ll get fired.
Daniel: Fuck your job.
Addison: I like my job.
Daniel: Correction, used to like your job.
And on and on until they had angry sex, make up sex or both kinds of sex. Either way, he wasn’t going to want her leaving him for two weeks. Especially now that they were back together and things seemed to be going smoothly. She was in the process of wondering how she was going to go about sneaking out of the city with her cello when Erica grabbed her arm hard and interrupted her thoughts.
“I need your opinion on the invite list for the donor bash at the Hilton. Maestro wants First Chair approval before we send out the invitations,” she said in a much less cheerful voice than usual.
Addison was so startled by this less-than-friendly version of Erica that she wasn’t even annoyed by Erica’s customary grabbiness. “Uh… sure,” she said, going with the other woman to Maestro’s office.
Erica pulled another chair up to her small desk so Addison could sit. Erica huffily shoved papers aside for Addison and slammed a document down on the desk in front of her. Addison jumped and tried covering it by folding her hands on the desk and getting comfortable in the chair. She raised a brow at Erica, waiting for the other woman to start reading the names on the list.
Erica sniffled in annoyance and began reading down the list, her voice grew noticeably more chill when she mentioned Tyson King and Claudia Cantore.
When she reached the end of approximately fifty people she snapped, “Am I missing anyone?”
Addison had to consciously keep her jaw from dropping. Erica had never spoken to her this way before. “You need to add Eleanor Channing to your list and her nephew, whom I believe is in town for the next few months. She’ll be tickled pink to introduce him to her friends at the orchestra. I believe Niccolo DeLuca is in the city as well. He has connections with Mrs. Channing’s nephew and Mr. King. Please invite him and a date as well.”
“Will that be all, Miss Sterling?” Erica asked, ice dripping from her voice.
Addison really, really wanted to just get up and leave, but she couldn’t bring herself to abandon any creature that might be in pain. Not even the most obnoxious, annoying human being she was ever forced to spend too much time with. Sighing, Addison patted her hand along the desk until she reached Erica’s arm. She wrapped her fingers around the other woman's hand and said, “Erica, what’s going on? Can I do something to help?”
Addison half expected Erica to become angry and wrench her hand away. Instead she dropped her head onto their combined hands, causing Addison to jump and wince. With a sob she wailed pathetically, “Why am I such an unloveable loser, Addie?”
“Oh Erica, you’re not a loser. You’re a very special young woman,” Addison said, reaching out to pat the other girl awkwardly on the head.
“You really think so?” Erica sobbed, dripping warm fluids that Addison really hoped was just tears onto their hands.
“Of course I think so, my dear,” Addison said soothingly, stroking her hair back from her forehead. “Look at what you do for the orchestra. You work so hard to keep everything running smoothly. Everyone really appreciates how much effort you put in.”
“No they don’t!” Erica whined. “They hate me, they’re always complaining about me.”
