Page 73 of Steal My Heart

“What happened to the big man Devon?” The band leader questions.

“Dunno,” I answer honestly. “Got word I needed to fill in, and here I am.”

“Watcha got?” he challenges.

Giving my fingers a stretch, I take a seat on the bench behind the baby grand and begin a serious rendition of pounding the wrong keys.

“Boo!” Everyone in the band ribs me.

I laugh, switching over to arguably the most difficult jazz song in all of history, with its high variables and tough-to-recreate right hand.

“Alright, girl’s got some skill,” he calls. Meaning I’ve passed the initiation test.

“Hey everyone, sorry I’m late.” That voice has me freezing.

“You’re gonna be late to your own funeral,” the leader jokes.

“Probably so.” Ellis unpacks his horn, noticing me. “Well. Well. Well. Who do we have here?” Ever the player, he sidles up to me, leaning on the piano. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Ellis.” He flashes that flirty smile.

Noooooo!

Of all the scenarios we ran through, this wasn’t one of them.

“Yvonne, don’t waste your time on fuckbois in the horn section,” the band leader taunts Ellis.

“Hey now, I resemble that remark,” Ellis jokes.

“Everybody’s here?” A man with a headset sticks his head on stage.

“Yes,” the band leader calls.

“Let’s run through a sound check.”

“Yvonne, talk to you later.” Ellis winks at me, sauntering to his position on stage.

On the one hand, I’m relieved he doesn’t recognize me; on the other hand, how dare he not recognize me!

“Remi, are you ready?” Maks’ voice inside my earpiece reminds me of why I’m here.

“Ready,” I say quietly, channeling all my frustrations into the keys.

Angelo

“Ellis has arrived,” Maks informs me through my earpiece. “He acted like he didn’t know Remi.”

“Angelo, did you hear me?” Laurie touches my thigh, and I resist the urge to snap her wrist.

“What was that?” My words are clipped.

“I said, me bringing you as my plus one, make that plus three,” she amends with a disgruntled tone, “is a risky move. You’d better not get me on the mayor’s bad side.”

“Nonsense. It’s politics, nothing personal.” At least, itwaspolitics. The mayor made it personal when he attempted to extort me.

“I hope you’re right.” Turning her attention to my sister, she says, “So, Al, what are your college plans?”

“I’ve decided to study abroad.”

“Since when?” I raise an eyebrow.