Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Perhaps that’s why it’s so powerful, I reply, as though I can’t stop. It’s personal, yet universal.
Absolutely. It’s like sharing a moment, even when you’re alone.
Sometimes, I go on, it’s like the music understands you better than anyone else.
Wow, that’s so true, Matt. It’s nice of you to take such an interest in this. When did you start listening to this kind of music?
Two years ago, when Sofia first expressed an interest in it, I tell her. I wanted to talk about her hobby with her. I never expected actually to enjoy it myself, though.
Oh no? What sort of music do you like, then?
Truthfully, I don’t listen to music.
WHAT?!
I let out a laugh. It sounds out-of-place in my large office, the tall windows showing a raindrop-coated view of the city. Seriously. Apart from the violin stuff for Sofia, I can’t remember the last time I listened to anything.
What about when you’re driving?
I keep the radio off.
Do you realize how insane you sound right now?
I laugh again. It feels so good, like I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. It’s the release I never knew I needed.
I’m sorry, her next text reads. I shouldn’t have said that. I forgot I wasn’t talking to a friend for a second.
It’s like the text slaps me across the face. Of course, I shouldn’t give a damn. I don’t give a damn, but there’s something about the message that pisses me off.
You don’t have to apologize, I reply. You’ve done nothing wrong. See you tomorrow.
I put my personal cell in the top desk drawer on silent, promising not to check it again until I finish all my work. I’ve never had this problem before.
CHAPTER EIGHT
BELLA
Emily raises her eyebrow at me from her chair across the room with intense interest on her face. “What do you mean … romantic?”
I shrug, trying to make it seem like no big deal. “I’m probably reading too much into it, honestly. But there was something about his texts and how he talked about music …”
I’m underselling the feelings reading his words provoked in me. I didn’t expect the tall, handsome, serious-looking man to have that side. It makes me want to get to know him, which, obviously, is not the point of all this.
“Are you telling me you’ve got some poetry for me to decode?” Emily says, grinning.
I roll my eyes. “You want to hear the texts?”
“It’s up to you. Not if they’re private.”
“It was just a casual talk about music.”
“Then why are you so red?” she says, beaming.
I want to tell her I’m not and that she’s wrong. Yet I can’t because I can feel the heat pushing against my cheeks like so many feelings are about to burst out. It’s all so silly. Yet, it’s sort of cool to have a crush. Is that what he is, then?
“Okay, listen to this. We’re talking about a Vivaldi piece, and he says it’s like a stormy night. It has a raw energy. It’s untamed.”
The word untamed especially made my mind go to all kinds of steamy places.
“That’s intense for sure,” Emily says, leaning forward. She’s looking at me in that familiar, searching way. It’s difficult to hide my true feelings from her. “Untamed … Is that a hint?”
I roll my eyes as if I have no idea what she’s hinting at. “Huh?”
“Don’t play dumb. Maybe he’s saying he wants to get untamed with you …”
“Oh, yeah,” I mutter sarcastically. “I’m sure that must be it.”
“You’re attracted to him.”
“He’s attractive,” I mutter. “That’s just a fact, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to ruin this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity by making a silly move.”
It would be another silly move, I should say since I already crossed the line and called him crazy when we were talking about the “he-doesn’t-listen-to-music-in-his-car” thing.
“Ruin it?” Emily asks.
“Duh. Let’s say I let this crush get out—”
“Wait … crush?” She’s leaning so far forward on the chair now that it’s a miracle she doesn’t spill out of it. “I didn’t know we’d entered official crush territory.”
“Is this the part where you throw a big party because I’ve finally entered Crushland?” I say, trying to play it off in a jokey way.
“I was starting to think you were asexual,” she says in a teasing, loving tone. “Or that you were going to get married to your violin.”
“Don’t give me any ideas,” I say, glancing at the clock. “They’re going to be here soon.”
“What about the other texts?”
I shrug, handing her my phone. “I think I’m just letting myself get carried away.”
“I don’t know,” Emily says softly, scrolling through the texts. “Like a violin whispering its secrets … Bella, you may have found the rarest kind of man. A big hunk mixed with a poet.”
“Maybe that’s just how he talks. It doesn’t mean it’s romantic, right?”
My tone is almost desperate. I need to know there’s no chance of anything ever happening between us so I don’t get my hopes up. Anyway, I was telling Emily the truth. Risking a high-value client for a crush would be the stupidest decision I could ever make.