“I’m being cautious.”
“That’s hesitation with a better tailor.”
He let the comment settle for half a beat, then touched my forearm briefly. It was a rare gesture from Dominic.
“If something happened to me,” he breathed, “I would object strongly to leaving you alone with only work for company.”
I looked at him.
“And if nothing happens to me,” he continued, “I still object.”
My eyes burned at the corners, which felt melodramatic. I blinked it away.
“You’re impossible,” I said.
“You’re not the first to establish that fact.”
The back door opened. Eamon walked in with a folded printout in one hand and stopped when he saw us. “I can come back,” he said.
“No,” Dominic insisted, stepping back into complete composure. “That would imply we were discussing something undignified.”
“Were you?”
“Deeply,” I said.
I detected a slight smirk from Eamon. “Good. I prefer the house to remain emotionally functional.”
He crossed to the table and handed Dominic the printout. “Route revision for this afternoon. Minor. One block shift on the return because of utility work.”
Dominic scanned it. “Accepted.”
Eamon nodded, then looked at the laid-out suit. “You still do realize you’re going to a dress rehearsal, not accepting an honorary doctorate.”
“I’ve received honorary doctorates,” Dominic said. “Accepting them was less work than a dress rehearsal.”
Dominic set the route sheet down.
“We should leave in forty minutes,” I said.
“Then I should dress before you speak to me as though I were a distracted cellist.”
He picked up the shirt and went upstairs.
I stood alone in the kitchen for a moment after he left, hands braced on the table, listening to the old house breathe around me.
By the time we left, the August heat had settled over the avenue with full authority. The SUV’s air-conditioning gamely fought it. Eamon drove. Dominic sat beside him with the score case between his knees. Thiago took the third row, which let him see Dominic, the route, and both side windows without turning his head much at all. I sat beside him.
None of us spoke for the first several blocks. Traffic moved in small surges. A delivery truck nosed halfway into an intersection and thought better of it. Tourists clustered near a corner café, wearing Hawaiian shirts. Thiago glanced at them, and then toward the rear window before settling again.
At the Orpheum, the side stage entrance was already operating under controlled access. One uniformed officer stood by the door and another at the alley mouth. Thiago got out first, scanned the line of parked vehicles, the opposite roofline, and blind corner near the loading entrance, then gave Eamon a nod.
We moved inside.
Dominic stepped onto the stage and paused. “She still knows how to make an entrance,” he murmured.
“You’re talking about the building again,” I said.
“Very few people rise to the occasion like the Orpheum.”
