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Phantom furrowed his brow as he shook his head. “No. The instrument played well enough, but it fought me every step of the way.”
I blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
He shook himself of his strange reverie and looked up at me. “Do you truly wish to learn?”
I nodded. “Now more than ever.”
“Then I will teach you, but not yet.” My heart fell a little at that little caveat, but a faint smile touched his strange lips. “It isn’t you, Millie. I have a few performances to give over the coming week. After that, we will schedule a time for you to learn.”
My heart gave a flutter and a smile spread across my face. “How can I ever thank you?”
He held out the flute. “You can thank me by practicing. Did you see how I placed my fingers on the flute?”
I took the flute and pressed it against my chest before I nodded. “I think I can manage that.”
He gestured to the door. “Good. Then if you will excuse me, I have a show to prepare for.”
Ben and I hurried from the room and found Wexelman leaning his back against the wall beside the door. He pushed off at our coming out and looked us over. “So he actually agreed to it?”
Ben set a hand on my shoulder and grinned. “He couldn’t resist Millie’s pleas.”
Wexelman scoffed. “I doubt that. That guy’s so celibate that I sometimes wonder if he’s a monk under all that makeup.”
Ben lifted an eyebrow. “You think that’s what it is? Makeup?”
The manager shrugged. “Could be. He’s got a whole case of the stuff. It’s enough to plaster a horse. Now if you guys are finished here, I’ve got a stage to set up.”
“We appreciate your help,” Ben told him as Wexelman led us down the hall.
Wexelman shook his head. “Don’t mention it, but if you could see yourself coming to see one of the shows I’d appreciate the publicity.”
I cocked my head to one side at our calculating friend. “What do you mean?”
The manager lifted an eyebrow at me. “You don’t really know who you’re with, do you?”
“Wexelman,” Ben warned him.
The manager jerked a thumb at Ben as we neared his office. “If this guy came to the show, that’d give the whole thing a new level of class. We wouldn’t have all those snooty people turning their noses up at Phantom’s music, and maybe I’d stop getting some of those nasty letters they keep sending me telling me we’re a bad influence on their kids.”
“How many of those do you get?” I asked him.
Wexelman paused beside his office door and kicked a large box that lay beside the entrance. “This came this morning, and now that we’re back in town I’m sure we’ll be getting another box every day until Phantom decides he wants to wander around again.”
“It wasn’t your idea for the tour?” Ben wondered as we continued on our way.
The manager shook his head. “Nope. We were doing just fine here, so why rock the boat? But Phantom, he decided he needed a change. Had to get out and all that.” We stopped near the exterior door and he turned to us where he crossed his arms over his chest. “If you ask me he was running from something, and it wasn’t all the rabid fans.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “What would he be running from?”
Wexelman shrugged. “Beats me. I’m as clueless about his past as most of his fans.” He paused and furrowed his brow. “Though there was somebody a while back who sent him a letter asking him about some town. Damned if I can remember what the name of it was, but it got Phantom all messed up. He could hardly sing that night, and a few weeks later he announced the tour. That was six months ago.”
“Thank you again for your assistance,” Ben spoke up as we opened the door and sunlight poured into the shadowed hall.
“You can thank me by keeping your visits to a minimum,” Wexelman requested as he stopped in the doorway and grasped the handle. “And keep all the info I just gave you to yourselves. The chat rags are always trying to get something on him, and I’d rather they just stick to their stupid guesses.”
Ben bowed his head. “Your secrets are safe with us.”
“Good, and good day.” Wexelman shut the door between us.
