Page 2 of Private Melody


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She kept the smile pasted to her mouth until all other smiling faces were left behind. She only needed a moment—just a moment—to get herself together. Brody would have a pill down her throat fast if she didn’t make herself scarce. She didn’t need that. She never wanted to need that again.

“I need to go.” Therin said the words almost to himself.

Vaughn heard him clearly. “’Bout damn time you get your mind on somethin’ other than work.”

Therin shrugged and refused to make eye contact with his friend. “Calm down, V, just goin’ to the john.”

“Uh-huh.”

The guys stood in unison. Therin couldn’t maintain the pretense for long and grinned at Vaughn’s knowing glare. His stare had softened, although his light eyes began to scan the noisy room.

“Keep ’em off my back for five minutes, V.” He shook hands with Vaughn and moved on.

Kianti shivered, and not from the backstage breeze that kissed her shoulder through the black lacy sleeves of her gown. In her world, there were only small windows of chance to happen upon unclaimed spaces at concert halls. During the last seven years of her professional career, she’d been blessed to catch those “windows” open after almost every performance.

As the audience conversed among themselves—shuffling from their seats and remarking on the talent they’d just witnessed and how it compared to others— Kianti sought that time to collect herself and to catch her breath.

She never wanted to need that again….

Therin cursed Vaughn below his breath, but realized, in all fairness, the man was probably elsewhere working to give him his requested “five minutes.” Unfortunately, his chief of staff couldn’t be everywhere at once, Therin grudgingly admitted. He worked up a fake smile for the group of Capitol Hill policymakers who waited along his path.

“Heard it through the grapevine Therin—you’re thinking of arranging a week-long retreat at your Vancouver place,” Jonas Dessin commented once the group made quick work of handshakes and small talk. “Rumor has it, it’s another EYES fundraiser.”

Therin laughed, clapping Jonas’s arm. “Does your grapevine have any idea what EYES’s bottom line is? Last thing they need is another fundraiser.”

“Grapevine also says it’s a membership drive,” Susan Brunschwig noted once the laughter had settled over Therin’s last comment.

He shrugged, his demeanor cool in the face of the subtle yet pointed inquiries. It wasn’t difficult. He’d been playing politics since he was four.

Stepping closer to Susan, Therin kept his smile light even as hers broadened and the stiff set to her body softened. “Education is in a precarious state.” He spared the woman’s colleagues a fleeting glance but directed his remark to her. “It was in an even worse condition before EYES came on the scene. We have a damn hard battle to fight. The kids we’re fighting for will need every able body we can find to take on this battle. So yes, Susan, membership is always in need. Good night all.” He bid smoothly and walked on.

Jonas Dessin turned to follow Therin’s exit. “There goes a dangerous young man.”

Susan kept her eyes on Therin heading deeper into the crowd. “Why dangerous, Jonas?”

“That kind of money going toward education? Are you kidding me?” Jonas’s eyes crinkled at the corners.

“It may not be so far-fetched.”

“That’s true—hence the young man being a danger. He’s rattling folks that would have the big amounts he woos from his…members go toward other endeavors—endeavors far removed from education. EYES boasts a powerful and prominent membership list and every one of those members loves that young man. Those un-sympathetic to his cause are threatened by that.” Jonas took a breather from his diatribe and helped himself to a drink off the tray of a passing waiter. “Like I said, there goes a dangerous young man.”

The serene backstage moment lasted longer than Kianti dared to hope it would. She even had time to kick up her heels. Literally. She’d pulled a chair closer to the one she occupied and propped up her feet. May as well make the most of it, she thought. Any minute the vultures would descend.

Kianti felt a smile emerge and quietly chastised herself. She loved her career and the madness that often came with it. Though there were varied aspects she could have done without, the greatest share of it had been a blessing.

Those who loved and followed her work had grown into a staggering number in the seven years since the start of her career. She was still in awe of it. She’d always been modest about her talents, even as a child, when she started playing the tune her mother hummed while preparing dinner one evening. It was a crude rendition of the melody banged out on Kianti’s pink toy piano, but it was enough to give her parents pause.

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