I felt the warmth of the spotlight as it moved to focus on the four of us. This evening, we were going to be playing Pachelbel’s Canon in D. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and lifted Diva to my shoulder.
That was when it happened. I felt him.
Somehow, I knew exactly where he was in relation to me. Like a compass being pulled north, I found myself pivoting to the left, and I opened my eyes. I knew that was where he was. I knew he was sitting up there.
Closing my eyes once again, I listened as the basso continuo started, and I swayed slightly as I let the wave crash down over me.
“So, you asked her the night you went to see her play?” I say, knowing he has moved back behind the easel.
He seems further away each time he speaks.
“Yes. What can I say? The moment I went and saw her play, I knew.”
His voice fades out toward the end of his thought, but I’m not letting him get away with it that easily. I need to know exactly what he means.
“You knew what?” I press, finding courage in the darkness I now inhabit.
Not having to face him when asking such personal and probing questions makes me bolder. It makes it easier to dig deeper into the heart of a man I know is wounded. It makes me ruthless in my pursuit of his story. This story is so provocative that it has captured the attention of the whole world. That’s when I hear him confirm what I already suspected.
“I knew I had to keep her.”
She is mesmerizing,he thought as he watched the spotlight move in and focus on the four musicians at the front of the orchestra.
After she told him she was playing tonight, she invited him to come, and he bought a box seat. There was no way he was going to miss out on this.
So, here he was. For some reason, he held his breath when she stood and closed her eyes. She raised her beloved Diva toher left shoulder, and that was when it happened. She opened her eyes, turned her head, and looked right at him.
Phillipe felt his breath leave his body on a sigh while his chest ached and tightened with the knowledge that she somehowknew. She felt him inside her very being, proving that theirs was a connection he couldn’t explain to anyone.
She smiled slightly before closing her eyes once more, and he found himself blocking out the other three people standing by her, along with the fifty orchestra members. All he saw was Chantel standing center stage, playing the most beautiful and spellbinding rendition of one of the most famous pieces ever written.
He had known the minute he saw her out in his vineyard that first morning that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to know her. Just as he knew, right this second, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep her.
“So, after the show, you…what? Went back to the dressing room? To the chateau?” I stop and sigh. “Why are you being so difficult about this part of the story? If you didn’t want to talk to me about it, then you should have let me finish reading her journal.” I pause before muttering, “At leastsheanswers my questions.”
“You seem frustrated.”
“Iamfrustrated. I want to know what happened, Phillipe.”
Pausing, I realize I am still sitting on the floor naked, and he seems to have moved his position. He sounds as though he’s sitting in the chair in the other corner of the room. Reaching up, I remove the blindfold, twisting around to see that my suspicions were correct.
“Why didn’t you tell me you stopped for the evening?”
His eyes travel over my hair, which has fallen across the shoulder that is twisted toward him. “Because I was enjoying looking at you.”
Completely annoyed at this stage, I reach for the clothes strewn across the floor. “Well, isn’t that nice?” I mutter while I tug my sweater over my head.
“I thought so.”
Bending down, I pick up my panties. “I can’t believe you. Well, I’m not going to sit here just for you to look at.”
“Well, this view is working pretty well, too.”
Looking at him over my shoulder, I turn and attempt to cover myself with the pants and panties bunched in my hands. He stands and slowly walks closer. All the while, he’s twirling a paintbrush in his fingers, a habit that seems second nature to him.
Standing my ground, I look up at him when he stops inches from me.
“I keep catching you without your pants on today,” he muses. He looks down to where I’m clutching the two items in front of me.
