Page 53 of Never Till Now

He narrows his blue eyes and carefully assesses me. “Something’s off about you.” Probably because I just discovered true childhood trauma, and there is nothing I can do to go back in time to stop it. “You care about her.”

“Why didn’t my sister call me? Or our mom?” Guilt and annoyance prick through my veins as my teeth press together.

“She didn’t want your mother to know. You know how she is with her image.” He raises his eyebrows and rubs the back of his neck. “Stubborn as hell to not taint her elite mother’s perfect expectations of her.”

“You’re sure that’s it, bro?”

“I need to run home and change. I have a class to teach.” How bad is my sister handling this if Max won’t even make eye contact with me?

“Thanks for loving her as much as I do.” I hold the sincerity in my voice as his eyes go wide.

“Dude, she’s like a sister,” he spits out in a nanosecond, shaking his head as he walks backward. “She’ll always be that tiny kid we’d beat in swim races.” She used to get so pissed that she was a year older, and that much slower. “You and I are just as protective as much as we enjoyed teasing her.”

Chapter 16

Adam

Four days later, I’m in my office as my phone buzzes.

Cherries: What?! At my work? How did you know?

Me: I asked Rachel when she was in town that night. Happy Birthday!

Bubbled dots appear but nothing comes through for over an hour. I bite my cheek, hoping she’s not pissed I sent flowers and catered Thai food for the entire emergency room staff.

Cherries: Sorry, got paged for trauma. Thank you. Everyone lovesss the food too.

Me: Can I take the birthday girl out for dinner tonight?

Cherries: Don’t feel you need to do more than you already have. You’re probably tired from all your overtime at work.

After pulling a few fourteen-hour days, I am exhausted. Katherine barely came through with the marketing. My father loved Lauren’s idea so much that Katherine had to incorporate it with her idea. She wasn’t pleased. Nor was I, being tasked to put the final approval and oversee every damn step of Katherine’s ad. With my workload here and helping with the new Aspen location, my CFO position was starting to feel more like my father’s CEO role. Work aside, exhaustion isn’t going to stop me from celebrating life.

Me: Trust me, I need a break from work. Good food, laughs and if you’re a good girl, an orgasm.

Cherries: Oh, I’ve been a very good girl. ;) I’ll be ready by 7:45 if I get out of here on time.

Me: I’ll meet you at your place ;)

Instead of spending the next few hours at the gym, my fingers get lost on the ivory keys as the weight of life evaporates. I open with a few jazz scales and blend them into a ’90s pop melody. The lyrics sing through my mind and I realize how powerful some of them are. When you strip out the busy production, the lyrics really hit home. Is this how Lauren feels when she listens to them? I continue to play, but the presence of someone lingering grows each moment. Before I lead into my next piece, I glance down and notice the pair of leather shoes I’ve walked beside every day of my life. My stomach jumps to my throat and my fingers fumble the keys and make an ear-piercing sound. I bring my eyes up to the face of my father.

He leans against a post and pulls his hands out of his pockets to clap. I feel the blood drain from my face and lose all words. The person who told me not to worry about anything other than appearance, family and business, has now witnessed the one secret I’ve been great at hiding my entire life.

“I had to see for myself. Our hotel went viral from a video, and I knew that wasn’t our usual piano guy.” His jaw doesn’t harbor the tense structure it normally does. “How long have you been playing like that?”

“Since you caught me falling asleep in the back booths. I snuck every opportunity to play when I knew you were in your office.” I stand back up. “Viral?”

“I didn’t realize your talent.” He nodded. “I thought you were being a foolish child wanting to bang on the expensive piano keys.” He looks down at the foot pedals, avoiding my eyes. “A few teens posted a clip of a ‘Superhot giant turns club songs into masterpieces.’” He opens the video.

“I knew I should have asked if they’d recorded me.” I wish I could read his body language better.

“I’m glad she did,” he grunts. “You should play more. Sales have increased with written requests to hear you play.”

“I don’t play for the public, Dad.” I shake my head, feeling the nerves in my stomach flip. “They caught me during the off-hours in the lounge.”

“Nonsense. Play whenever. Especially when guests are in.” His hand reaches up and rests on my shoulder. “Where did you come up with shitty pops songs slowed down? I would have pegged you as a jazz player.”

“Lauren mentioned she likes to listen to piano covers.” I shrug and step past him. “Speaking of. I need to get ready to pick her up for her birthday dinner.”