It fit like a dream. The sweetheart neckline accentuated my décolletage, and the flare at the waist gave me an enticing hourglass look. I had always considered my body type to be more of a “ruler” than an “hourglass.” The word ruler kind of turned me on, and I decided I was ready to step out, preparing to debut my role as today’s character—the diva.
I walked slowly toward my bedroom, ready to see his muscular body (reddened thighs and all), but realized the music was coming from my dining room. I followed my ears and was rewarded.
This time I was sure he heard my gasp, which was accompanied by my gloved hand fluttering to my mouth and my eyes widening as far as my lids would stretch. He smiled, and kept playing.
Playing the grand piano that was now sitting in my dining room.
I almost rubbed my eyes like a kid coming down the stairs on Christmas morning to see that instead of getting presents, Santa actually came through and got her a pony.
William was clad in a black-tie tuxedo, gloves and all, playing piano where my dining room table used to be.
I did not care where my table was. I got it cheap on Craigslist from some creepy dude named Hal who lived a town over.
I did care about not looking like an utter fool, drooling over the demigod playing the most beautiful music human ears had ever heard. I assumed my role.
He stopped when he saw me waiting.
“Continue playing for me.”
He put his fingers to the keys for another song, then rose. “Miss Norrel, I’m delighted you accepted my invitation,” he said smoothly, walking over to me. He took my hand and kissed my glove politely. “O, that I were a glove upon that hand,” he said, quoting Romeo and Juliet.
Bizzy said, I’ve got your glove right here, but I told her to get some class or she wouldn’t be seeing any action. As much as I loved her, it was like having a heckler. I was trying to play a role here!
“Your invitation was vague, Mr. Gentry,” I said sharply. “Would you like to clarify?”
He nodded politely. “Of course. As a singer of your caliber, I know you are a busy woman. I brought you here tonight so I could audition for you privately. I know your usual pianist has moved to England, and I was hoping to win you over. Would you kindly come listen to me play for you?” He gestured grandly to the piano.
It was a Steinway. They cost tens of thousands of dollars. Who the hell was William Gentry and why was I lucky enough to have him in my home, ready to please me? He looked older today—not a bad thing, just different. Perhaps it was because the tuxedo made him look sophisticated.
“Please,” I managed to say, as I followed him over to the piano. “Play for me.”
He ran his gloved fingers across the keys deftly, and I nearly salivated. His motions were so graceful, and yet so powerful. As he began to play, I found myself at a loss for words. I simply moved closer to the bench so I could get a better look at my pianist, and listen. I watched his face, enraptured by the music, shaking slowly back and forth to the tune. Sometimes he closed his eyes and threw his head back. I licked my lips. I wanted him now.
“That will be enough,” I said, breathily.
“Miss Norrel,” he said, “are my skills not to your liking?” He attempted to rise, but I held my hand down on his shoulder, indicating that he stay.
“You passed the audition,” I said, scooting between him and the keys. His head was nearly pressed to my breasts and he looked up at me with near-palpable anticipation. “However, I need to see a demonstration of your stamina. I have a very rigorous schedule, Mr. Gentry, and I have to make sure you are up to my standards.”