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“That’s about right,” Rocco said coolly, and they both laughed a little.
“The Oscar buzz is back. We’re killing it in the theaters,” Morgan trilled, extending his hand again. “So, truce?”
Rocco gave his hand a shake. “I’m fine, Morgan. Let’s move on and enjoy the concert.”
Morgan’s gaze slid over me, giving me a mischievous grin. “Hello, Rocco’s beautiful wife. I mean, damn, she’s stunning. Have you considered acting?”
“That’s enough, Morgan,” Rocco said in a curt tone. His hands tightened on my hips.
Morgan smirked, then gave me a wave. “I guess we can’t shake hands, Adelina.”
I waved back.Don’t care.
Marjorie touched Morgan’s arm. “Hey, what about me? Aren’t I beautiful, too?”
“You know you’re scorching hot, Midge.” He pulled Marjorie in for a kiss as she batted him playfully on the back, laughing. I wondered if it was real or if she was putting on a show for Rocco. After all, Marjorie was his ex-girlfriend.She could get anyone. Why his friend? And why someone who’s married? Does she have no moral compass?I could only be glad that Rocco was truly not interested in her. Something about that made me feel more relaxed.I can trust him, I know this now.
A person sang into the microphones to test them. Marjorie touched Rocco’s arm as if she wanted his attention, though we were still looking at her and Morgan. “There’s no lawsuit—”
“I’m not discussing it,” Rocco cut her off and cuddled me closer.
“I just want to make it clear—”
“Talk to Gunnar, Marjorie. Glad you’re having fun.” Rocco pointed up at a screen behind us. It was the Don John meeting scene from the 1990s movieMuch Ado About Nothing.
“Oh, I love this scene,” I enthused.
Rocco leaned over my ear. “Great. Let’s turn away to look at it.”
“Enjoy the concert,” Rocco called to them, and I echoed him.
Marjorie’s smile wilted, but before we turned, I leaned back against Rocco’s chest and rubbed the stubble on his jaw. It was possessive, but I didn’t care.He’s mine.
Rocco laughed and held me tighter, then returned to kissing my neck.
To our delight, the following performers to take the stage were Paul and Nadia. We joined the audience, cheering and clapping as Paul rose from a platform seated in front of a baby grand piano with a backup string quartet around him. The lights lowered as he went seamlessly into Mozart’s Symphony No. 25. From the start, Paul captivated us as he took us back in time. We were in an imperial court in Vienna, and we were seeing a legend. His fingers moved across the piano keys in a flawless waltz of unrestrained passion.
We clapped enthusiastically, but Paul and the orchestra hadn’t stopped but transitioned into Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5. I didn’t know it, but the names were on the screen. The pace was fast without pause, but Paul played it without breaking a sweat. My heart hammered in time at the feverish battle on the instruments. It was as if I was running along with him to keep his pace, and I was invigorated by the last note.
I glanced back at Rocco; his admiration for his friend was evident on his face. He loved him. He rubbed my arms to get my focus as we all exploded into enthusiastic claps when Paul finished the piece.
Paul rose from his seat and extended his arm towards the orchestra so we could also sing their praises. The room quieted down, and Paul retook his seat. A movie screen lowered behind him, and I felt Rocco’s heart beating faster on my back. I pulled his arms tighter around me and took a deep breath, and I felt him do the same, but it was clear something was making him anxious.And he’s never nervous. What’s going on?
Paul played the beginning notes of Beethoven’s Sonata No. 8, Op. 13 Pathetique, and the crowd applauded like he was Beethoven himself. I also loved the emotions that rose from his approach to the beautiful masterpiece. I first heard it while watching a film,Running on Empty. I related to the family moving around, keeping secrets. It was the first film that ever made me cry. Closing my eyes, I sank into its rich, melancholy exquisiteness. It made me want to fall to my knees and weep.
“Adelina,” Rocco called my name. I opened my eyes as he drew my focus to the screen above. The clip from Shakespeare dissolved, and Jacob appeared.Jacob?
I sucked in breaths and trembled hard, my hands pressed to my lips. My big brother was on the screen in front of thousands, maybe even millions, online.
He was moving his chair around his home studio and signing as he showed off his painting collection of vibrating hearts. Paul signed back, and Jacob’s crooked grin broke out. He looked directly at the screen and waved his finger like when we ended our calls, and I said I loved him. Seeing it poured light into my soul, leaving me wide open and raw. After everything he’d experienced and endured, he still had love for everyone.
My hand rose to cover my mouth as tears spilled down my cheeks. I sucked in the air and pressed backward into Rocco, and he ran his hands down my arms.
“Jacob called this painting a vivid reminder of love’s complexities,” Paul said and signed. “Jacob also has agreed tocommission his photo to me for my next cover. More of his work will be coming around the world on a tour. Don’t miss this fantastic, talented artist.”
I turned and wept into Rocco’s chest, and he hugged me. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Jacob wanted to surprise you. We promised to film you and send the video.”