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“Yes, I’m not vegetarian or anything.”

Francine took one last glance across the room at Alex, and then she left, leaving Morgan with a decision to make. She could step back and quietly close the door, give Alex the privacy to enjoy her music. It would still be audible in her room, but she didn’t really want to spend the day stuck in her room or standing in the doorway either.

As though reading her mind, Alex spoke. “You can sit down.” Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled up at Morgan, inviting her into the room with a sweep of her hand before she reached up for a sheet of paper and a pencil. She jotted something down and, with her right hand, played several keys quickly, before jotting something else down.

Morgan moved towards the settee, but said, “I don’t want to disturb you.”

“So, just listen then,” Alex said and waited for her to sit. Then she turned back to the keys and began to play again. The music began with a gentle roll into something busier and uplifting, and Morgan sat back in the seat and let her shouldersrelax and her eyes close. “My mother always said, when you have nothing to say, listen.”

“She sounds very wise.”

“Oh, that she is, and very Russian.” Alex chuckled and began to play again.

It was only in that moment that it occurred to Morgan that she was being paid for this, to sit in a fancy hotel room, on a comfortable sofa, and just listen while a world-famous musician wrote a song. Music nobody else had heard.

How many people could say they’d experienced this?

The music stopped again, and this time when Morgan opened her eyes, she found them met with a warm stare from across the room.

“I’m sending you to sleep?”

Morgan laughed lightly. “No, I—it’s just relaxing, that’s all. I think that’s a good thing, and I’m still coming down from a hectic set of shifts. I’ll catch up sooner or later. Is that something new you’re playing?”

“It is. I’m working on my next album, it’s calledSerenade. At least for now, it will probably change.”

“You don’t like the name?”

Alex twisted around on the stool until she faced Morgan. “I rarely like the titles. They always seem so…lacking, as if a few words can describe the emotion of the music?” She scoffed. “Sorry, that sounded very prima donna, didn’t it?”

Morgan smiled at her. “I think you’ve earned the right to be a little bit prima donna here and there.”

The conversation was halted when a loud ringing sound came from the phone in the corner of the room. Morgan got up. “I’ll get it.” Bounding over, she picked the handset up on the fifth ring. “Hello.”

“Good afternoon, this is the front desk, Ms Carlson asked us to call and let you know that lunch is being served in the restaurant, if you wanted to join her.”

“Oh, thank you, I’ll let Ms Montgomery know.” She replaced the handset. “Francine would like you to join her for lunch.”

Slowly, reverently, Alex closed the piano lid down over the keys, her hands smoothing over the polished wood like a lover would do to someone’s cheek. She tidied her notes and placed them into a folder.

“I guess we should do as we’re told before Francine sends security up to find us.” She chuckled. “And believe me, she would.”

Morgan hesitated. “So, how does this work?” she asked before Alex reached the door.

The dark hair whipped around. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—we’re going to just do things together and let people come to their own conclusions, or do you want me to act like I’m your girlfriend? Do you want me to join you for lunch?”

“Well, you have to eat, don’t you?”

Chuckling, Morgan walked towards Alex, holding her gaze with an intensity that Alex both loved and feared.

“Yes, I just don’t think Francine has really thought this through. Her plan is that I stay out of the way and only if asked do we suggest I’m your lover.”

“Right.”

“And yet, I am instructed, where you go, I go.”

“Ah.” Alex’s brow raised.