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“We’ve got a special guest in the band tonight,” the lead singer announced. “A friend of the Schultz family, Mr. Franky Middlebury.”
The audience applauded as Franky stepped up to the keyboard and stretched his fingers, positioning them over the keys, shifting his neck side to side.
The lead singer stepped closer, covering his microphone. “Do you have a song in mind?”
Franky thought for a few seconds then nodded. “I sure do.” He glanced at Skylar, who was standing front and center, and gave her a wink as he tapped his foot on the ground and pressed the keys for the first notes of what he thought was perfect for this Fourth of July evening, “Born in the U.S.A.” by Bruce Springsteen.
The guys in the band all grinned and nodded and joined in with their instruments, and soon the crowd was singing along. It was amazing and electric. Franky’s fingers took off with a mind of their own. The song flowed out of him and through the keyboard, filling the air with music, blending perfectly with the other instruments. At one point, his fingers flew frantically back and forth, a whirlwind of notes coming out as a spontaneous arrangement, and he was lost in it. He hadn’t realized the others had backed off and given him an impromptu keyboard solo until he heard sudden cheers, and he noticed pretty much everyone on the rooftop terrace gathered around the stage.
He nodded his head in appreciation and eased the tempo down as the others played again. The song soon came to a close and applause filled the air once more.
Franky took a bow, and even the guys on stage clapped for him.
“Hey, man, you’re really good,” the guitarist said as the others walked over.
“Thanks,” Franky replied. “I was classically trained pretty much from the time I could hold a rattle.”
“Our keyboard player, Dean, is moving soon, and we’re looking for a replacement if you’re interested.”
Dean gave a wave. “We haven’t found anyone near as good as you.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t really have the time.”
The guitarist took a card from his pocket. “Well, if you change your mind, give me a call. We’d love to have you join.”
The band returned to their places and started another song as Franky stepped off of the stage.
Skylar flew at him, jumped up, and threw her arms around him. “That was awesome.”
“You’re biased,” he said into her ear.
She let go and returned to the ground. “Maybe a little, but seriously, I love listening to you play.”
“It felt good. I don’t play much anymore.”
“That’s a shame.” She took hold of his hands, which sent unexpected tingles up his arms. “These hands are magical.”
He had a sudden urge to run his hands along the smooth skin of her arms and show her how magical they could be. He shook his head and jerked his hands from hers, leaving her with a look of confusion. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her that way tonight?
He quickly pulled the business card from his pocket and held it in front of her face, eager to escape the awkward moment. “I guess I could quit being a lawyer and join a band if I wanted to.”
She snatched the card from his fingers and stared at it with wide eyes. “What, really?”
“They need a keyboardist.”
“Franky, you should do it.” Her face lit up as she handed the card back.
“Right.”
“I’m serious. This could give you something fun to look forward to when you aren’t in court or working on cases.”
He smirked. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll come to all your shows and be your groupie.” She winked.
“You would, wouldn’t you?”
The smile she gave him warmed his heart. Being around her was definitely good for his ego.