Page 39 of Redeeming the Villain
I turn on the bench and direct my attention toward Professor Von London, but I don’t dare interrupt. I’ll wait for him to speak first.
“You played that with ease, vigor, and tenacity.” He pauses, studying me carefully. “I gave that to you as a challenge to see where your limit was, but you surpassed it …” He trails off, and my heart jumps into my throat. “Play another. Something to push you.”
Forcing myself to take a breath, I set my iPad on the rest and debate between two pieces, both hard. One that I’ve recently played and perfected and one that I haven’t played in a few years, but it’s still considered one of the most challenging pieces.
Deciding on the latter, I click on Ravel’s “Ondine,” a haunting and dark composition, the first movement ofGaspard de la Nuit.
When I play just the first few notes, he huffs out a short breath, one that sounds happy … I hope.
I want to sit and question if I chose the right or wrong one to perform, but there’s no time. I’m already too deep into the song to turn back, so I let myself once again get lost in the performance.
Six and a half minutes later, I remember exactly where I am and who is listening to me play. Pride bursts in my chest. That was the first time I’d played it in years, and it was nearly perfect.
Hesitantly, I turn to look at Professor Von London, finding him watching me in awe.
“That … was beautiful. I haven’t heard it live in quite some time.” He clicks his tongue. “You played a lot of that from memory. How long had you studied it?”
Shrugging, I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I hadn’t played it in a couple of years. I think the first time I’d played it was when I was thirteen or fourteen.”
His eyes widen, but he stays silent.
Thankfully, he doesn’t make me wait too long. “You are a marvel, Miss Briarwood, unlike anything I’ve seen at this university in decades. Quite honestly, I haven’t met many students your age at this level.” He stares at me with a slight shake and tilt to his head. “Where have you been hiding?”
My cheeks warm at his incredible compliments. “I’ve always had a natural gift with music, but piano has always been my passion. I’ve been in lessons since I was four years old. There’s nothing like it.” My words only build the eagerness more.
“Have you performed anywhere?” He taps his fingers against his leg—fingers that have played at recitals I would’ve killed to attend.
I’m nervous to answer this question. I know how I must, but that doesn’t mean I want to. I want to speak the truth. To tell him that my father always preferred that my gift be a secret. That it would only put me in more danger, more risk.
But I give the political answer, as I always have to anyone who overheard me play. “I’ve always been too shy to perform. But I think I’m getting over that. I want the chance.”
“I think you’re in the right place.” His eyes twinkle with what almost looks likepride, but it’s hard to believe that to be true, as I met him less than ten minutes ago.
I think perhaps I’ll pretend just for a moment that maybe he is proud of me.
“How about we hear one more?” he asks with a glowing grin.
Maybe one day, I’d like to play some of my own music. Not to toot my own horn, but I know that my pieces are good.
For the remainder of the hour, I play pieces for him back to back. After each one, he asks for just one more song. Some fast, some slow, some upbeat, and some haunting. By the time I’m done, I feel a warmth in my chest, a satisfaction that I’ve never felt before.
After Professor Von London leaves when our session is over, I stay in the room, continuing to practice for about another hour before I realize that I’m going to be late.
Gathering my things and throwing them in my bag, I rush out of the room with Sunny. A cold shiver runs down my back, and I stop dead in my tracks in the empty hallway.
Hints of bergamot, ocean waves, and spiced vanilla invade my nose, as if he was standing in this very spot.
Malik.
Part of me wants to know if he was watching me play. But then again, would that be so he had something to use against me in the future? To twist the things I loved into weapons? I don’t really want to find out.
Besides, I’m sure a lot of people on this campus wear that same cologne. I just can’t help but associate it with him.
I get a text from Phillip, and I quickly check it as I walk out of the building.
Phillip: Can’t wait to see you later!
He’s finally in town, and I’m so excited to see him tonight after my study session with Blair.
