Sam laughed. “Became a hotel mogul, is happily mated, and in a pack with Spencer Thanukos? I will punch anyone who says you’re a slacker.”
“Is my mother here?” He looked around.
I couldn’t help but laugh. Oh, I loved playful Bren. That seemed like an old joke.
Kari laughed. “You’re at our table, so you’ll be fine. You’ll just have to put up with my mom telling you how much more accomplished I’d be if I gave her grandchildren.”
“Always with the grandchildren. Thanks for inviting us,” Brennan added.
We went inside the room where dinner was being served. The decorations were impeccable.
“Three o’clock,” I whispered, holding onto his arm as we followed Sam and Kari to our table.
I held my breath, and we walked past the table. Nothing happened. But it was hard to relax.
Dinner was fun, and not nearly as long as the other dinners, since here the main program was a concert. There were just a couple of speeches about the education programs for young musicians that the fundraiser supported–including ones from the kids. More music played as we ate.
Kari’s pack, her parents and their pack, were really sweet.
“I’m glad you’re doing Volkov, and not strange pieces like the one you did in Boston with the bubble machine,” her mother said.
“That one was a little experimental,” Kari explained.
Sam thought for a moment. “I liked the bubble machine.”
Finally, Kari stood. “I have to go. See you out there.”
Sam helped her up and offered her his arm. He and one of her other packmates went with her, probably so she could prepare for her performance.
The rest of us finished dinner, and then we were invited into the auditorium.
“The music program here launched Kari’s career. Once, she was one of those young musicians getting free lessons, now she tours the world,” Brennan whispered. “She was always very kind to everyone. She also kicked my ass at competitions. I set her and Sam up. Her mom didn’t want her to date, so I manufactured reasons for them to get together. We had a lot of classical music appreciation parties and study sessions at my house that year. Wes knows them, too.”
Brennan led me to a small private box with a magnificent view of her and the piano. He waved at Sam, who was right in the front. He waved back.
“This is beautiful.” I looked around at all the seats, boxes, and the stage.
I checked my phone. Wes sent me a silly picture of him and Spencer at the dinner. I sent him one of Brennan and me.
Evan hadn’t texted lately, but he and Jett were probably occupied. Actually, from what I felt through the bond, they might be getting ready to getbusy.
I looked at the program, which listed what Volkov pieces that she was playing tonight. It wasn’t a long concert, but I was really looking forward to it, especially since I knew some of the pieces.
She opened with my favorite–the one Brennan said I always played too fast.
He shot me a smug look, but I was focused more on her playing, which was mesmerizing. Oh yes, it did flow better the way she played it.
Kari’s style was also completely different from Brennan’s. Something about her interpretation made it almost… magical.
Brennan draped an arm over my shoulder. His pine scent wrapped around me. Oh. Was this a date?
Would I be sad if it were? No. Not at all.
“Yeah, she’s good,” he whispered.
“She really is.” I’d heard a lot of pianists over the years, and she was extraordinary. I could imagine Brennan sitting in the audience, listening to her play as he waited his turn.
Had my mother’s playing been like that? While I saw that there were a couple of recordings of her playing online, I hadn’t brought myself to listen to them. I sniffed a little.
