Fire & Vice: Fear in Her Eyes

Chapter 3

Saturday

"Oh my goodness, it's her!" squealed Eleanor Channing loudly enough that Addison was certain even the kitchen staff were aware someone important had arrived.

Addison's lips twitched in humour and she almost wished she wasn't blind just so she could see the looks of consternation on the other guests faces as they craned their necks to look toward where Mrs. Channing was pointing excitedly. Given the elderly woman's wealth and status, they probably expected a famous actor or at least a politician. Instead they were left pondering a somewhat mismatched, curvy woman wearing sunglasses indoors.

She grinned and waved. She felt someone approach her left side, deftly remove her cello for her and take her elbow.

"Couldn't find the servants entrance, love?" asked Maestro.

Addison shrugged. "What's the fun in that?"

He sighed and led her through the crowd toward the corner where a chair had been set up for her. He'd specifically asked Mrs. Channing to await her greetings and accolades until after the set. "Is this my punishment for forcing you to take these engagements? In that tuxedo and sunglasses you look like a white Ray Charles. Would it have killed you to wear a gown, Addison? You know I would choose another if it were possible, but they all want you. You should be flattered."

Addison took the seat he led her to and held her hand out for her case. "I'd much rather be flattered in the comfort of my own home. Just one weekend, Charles. That's all I want," she grumbled as she bent over to snap the case open. "Just one weekend away from pimping the darn orchestra. I thought Erica was supposed to be here?"

"I sent her out to buy your favourite brand of sparkling water, my dear. So you would be at your best during the performance," he said, taking her case once she'd removed her cello and bow.

She turned in his direction. "I didn't know I have a preference of sparkling water, Charles."

"You can thank me later, Addison. The brand I chose is very difficult to find, you'll probably be finished and possibly gone before she gets back."

Despite her somewhat odd entrance and appearance, Addison won over even the worst music skeptic in the room. It was clear that when she played, everything around her faded to nothing and she entered a world where only she and the instrument existed. Energy snapped around her as each note took on life and meaning for a split second before it was replaced by another and then another. Her audience was enthralled as she played quickly through her set. And when the last note died away, silence filled the room. Only Maestro moved, used as he was to her ability to spellbind.

Finally, applause broke wildly through the room and then the begging for her to continue began. Of course she would not. Addison Sterling never gave in for the demand from her audience for more. This could have, and if she were another musician would have, been perceived as selfishness. But Addison's natural charm washed over them, soothing the sting of rejection. The truth was, she poured so much of her soul into each performance that she physically couldn't go on. It was all she could do to pack up her instrument, accept the congratulations and then flee. Maestro understood and gave her a strong arm to lean on.

Addison reached out and took his proffered arm, allowing him to help her to her feet. She accepted a hug from the birthday girl and murmured her thanks at the effusive praise and the large cheque made out to the orchestra, which made the Maestro beam. She nearly made her way completely through the room when she sensed a very large presence in front of her. It caused her to stop abruptly so she wouldn't run into it. She frowned beneath the cover of her sunglasses. There was also a presence to the right of the massive man. Another man. This one sent a chill down her spine. He was different from anyone else in the room. He was so still, his emotions so contained that rather than sensing his presence, she almost sensed an empty space where a person should be. She was reminded sharply of the feeling she'd had in the elevator the other day: of someone there, but also not there.

"Addison Sterling, wonderful performance," the voice of the huge man was deep and booming. She found her hand taken and engulfed in a massive paw of a hand. "My name is Tyson King. I'm not usually a patron of the arts, but if anyone can convince me to start, it'll be you. I look forward to watching your career with interest."

"Oh," Addison said, startled. "I live in your building."

"Do you now?" he rumbled.

"Yes," she smiled, unable to completely conceal the fatigue from her voice. Maestro shifted his arm to slide it around her waist. She felt a shifting in the air around her, like a sudden, snapping tension. "My real estate agent tried to sell it to me based on the extra security your team brings to the building."

"And is that what sold you?" he asked, as though he really cared.

Addison flashed him a grin and shook her head. "I bought it for the view."

He paused for a second and then burst out laughing. Maestro also laughed. Whoever was with Tyson King did not laugh.

"If you decide to leave the orchestra behind, you can take up comedy," he announced, still chuckling. The man whose presence barely registered leaned in to speak in Tyson King's ear. She could barely make out a voice, even with her sharp ears. The tones were deep and concise. Tyson rumbled back and then stepped away from her. "Daniel assures me you must be exhausted. I apologize for keeping you. I'll make sure your path is clear if you'd like to make your way home now. I look forward to meeting you again Ms. Sterling."

Addison shivered. If she'd been alone with this Daniel person, she would have given the man a piece of her mind for making assumptions about her. Though she was pretty much dead on her feet, she'd decided long ago to forge her own path in life. She looked right to where she knew Daniel stood and tilted her chin, before turning back to Tyson and thanking him politely for his support before excusing herself.

"Charles," she said brightly, turning to the Maestro and shrugging off her fatigue. "Perhaps a drink to celebrate the generosity of our benefactor this evening, before you drop me off?"

"Of course, my dear, your wish is my command!" he murmured happily, steering her away.

She shivered as she left, sensing eyes on her and intense, pervasive hostility wrapping around her, tugging and tearing. Only the hostility wasn't aimed at her. If she wasn't mistaken, it was aimed entirely at Charles Batten, whose arm was wrapped firmly around her waist holding her upright and leading her toward the car.