“Dancing.”
I push away from him but he pulls me in, holding my tight. My voice takes on a serious tone, low and questioning. “No. What are you doing with me? The roses and the songs are perfect. The man who you are pretending to be, right now, is perfect. But you are not perfect. Why are you acting this way?”
Asher stops moving, our bodies halt, and he loosens his hold on me, although we’re still touching. His jaw squares, sharper on the sides. “Emma, I’m trying to tell you that I want you. I want what we started in Italy. I don’t know how to make you see that I’m sorry.”
“Then show me,” I say. “Prove to me something more than the lyrics of someone else’s song and roses of a different color. I fell for a guy on a boat who spoke honestly and deeply; who showed me how to be free. Did he ever exist or was he made up?”
Asher’s brow furrows in as he takes in my words. I use the opportunity to free myself from his arms and step back. The band is ending their song and the people clap.
My eyes still on Asher, I speak the one thing I have been asking from him from the very beginning. “I need something real.”
The cool disdain of Asher’s body language shows me he is wary of what I’m asking. I want to know who the real Alexander Asher is, but I don’t think he’s willing to let me in. I want to know more about the man I met months ago. Instead, I am face-to-face with a man who is a hardened imposter.
Our moment is broken when Frank takes the mic and asks everyone to find their seats. We stand on the dance floor a beat too long as I wait for Asher to give me something, anything. When it is clear he has nothing to offer I walk away, leaving him there. When I’ve gotten to my seat at the table, Crystal and Lisa are instantly on me, asking questions about dancing with Asher.
I ignore them, because I must look over the speech I worked on with Frank. It’s heavy on statistics and a diatribe on how learning an instrument teaches skill, purpose, and raises the IQ. It’s interesting and it’s insightful. It’s also boring as hell, but it’s what the two of us worked on together and what the Juliette Academy needs these people to hear.
When Frank calls my name, the crowd offers a polite applause. I rise to my feet and try not to trip as I walk to the podium. My hands are shaking from nerves. I haven’t given a speech in front of a crowd this size before.
I climb the step to the podium, holding the speech in my hand. I unfold the paper with my jittery hands and offer the crowd a smile before I begin. I start by thanking everyone for coming and explaining what an honor it is to be a part of the Juliette Academy. Light clapping is heard throughout the room.
I am halfway through the first part of my speech when I look to a table on the right hand side of the dance floor and see Alexander looking at me.
He introduced himself to me. It was a moment that seemed so ordinary but was it? That was him being real. Giving me something real. It was small, but it was there, and I passed right by it.
I look down at the paper in my hands. These words are as generic as the ones I accused Alexander of saying to me. There is no heart and no soul. They are just figures, numbers, and information. They are not real. And by real, I mean, they’re not true to me. They are not why I am here, not why I started to play music in the first place, and not why this little school in the heart of Manhattan has meant so much to me in a short amount of time.
When I look back at the crowd, I realize I must look silly. I’ve stopped talking mid-speech, and everyone is staring at me, waiting for me to speak.
Feel, Emma.
Be real.
Burn.
“I was ten years old the first time I saw someone play the violin,” I say, my words unsure at first as I’m going off-book, but I continue anyway. “I’m sure I’d heard a violin before, but I had never seen someone play. As I watched the woman play, I was moved by the look of her. She wasn’t just playing a song. She was feeling the music. I wanted to feel it too.
“For fifteen years the violin was my life. I studied it, pursued it. It wasn’t just my career. It was my life.” I look down at my scar and flex my hand feeling that sting that reminds me why I am here today. “Earlier this year I lost my brother in a horrific car accident, and my world was over. I couldn’t feel anything. I also lost my ability to play that day and I have the scar to prove it.
“Then I met a man and I fell madly in-love with him. He taught me how to feel the music again. And when that love was lost, it was music that got me through the pain.
“You see, teaching someone how to play an instrument is all in the mechanics. You can show a child how to push down on the key of a piano or bang on the head of a drum. But feeling the music? That comes from the heart.
“Most of the kids we teach, they won’t ever play professionally. Many will give up before they get to college. But if we can instill the love of song into every child that walks through our doors we are giving them a greater gift. We are teaching them how to feel. We are showing them how to connect. And we are making them better human beings for it.
“I lost everything, yet I still have something. I have passion. I have the beat in my soul to carry on and the strings in my heart to play it forward. The Juliette Academy is more than a building on Rivington. It is a place of love.
“Isn’t that why we’re here today? It’s not to get dressed up or drink and dance. There are children out there who have lost more than I have. Many will grow up and realize we live in a cruel, harsh world. Yet if we can give them an ounce of the passion and feeling and love we have to offer . . . well, we may be able to save them.” I smile at the thought. “And we may, just may, be able to save ourselves.”
The audience around me begins to clap and a few people rise to their feet and then a few more and a couple more. Soon, the entire room is on its feet, applauding for me. I say a quick thanks and depart the podium. On my way to my table, I glance over at Asher’s table and notice that he’s not there.
I guess I should be used to him disappearing on me.
chapter TWENTY-FOUR
My taxi pulls up to the curb of my Mott Street apartment. The night was long and my feet are hurting. After my speech, we enjoyed a delicious dinner and, then we danced until the event was over. I decided dancing with Crystal and Lisa was the best way to keep from having to answer their questions about Asher.
Asher—who, by the way, never came back. I saw Frank looking for him a few times, and I can’t deny I glanced around, but to no avail. He did what he does best. He left.
