Then There Was You Read online

  Finally, she opened her eyes to find Kat standing in the door, rivulets of tears running down her cheeks. Her cousin quivered a smile. “You’re back.”

  Josh leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing the latest set of ticket sales on his Mac screen. New Zealand was almost sold out, with US sales going strong. By the time everything had been paid for, there should be enough for some reasonable Christmas bonuses. Not that money could make up missed time for those who left young families behind every time they were on the road.

  Familiar footsteps echoed up the corridor. Paige. It was her second-to-last day in here. With everything pretty much wrapped up, it was time for her to permanently move back into the main building. He was trying to pretend he was looking forward to having his office to himself again, but he was failing. Miserably.

  He didn’t even turn as she walked into the room and set something on her desk with a clunk. “Morning.” It was easier not to look at her. Every time he did, he almost choked on his own recrimination. For being such an idiot. For not telling her the whole truth.

  “Hi.” A pause. No sound of her chair being pulled out, of her computer being turned on. “Josh?”

  “Yeah.” He tilted his chair back and looked over his shoulder. Her hair was pulled back, her face uncertain. “What’s up?”

  “I want to help.”

  He was lost. Both in her dark eyes and what she was trying to tell him.

  She shifted on her feet, brushing a wisp of hair away from her face. “With the strings thing. I can lay down a demo track if you still want me to.”

  He spun around and saw the black violin case sitting on her desk. “Really?”

  She smiled. “Really. One condition. You don’t tell anyone it was me.”

  Odd, but whatever. “Deal.” He clicked on his calendar. Nothing until eleven. Perfect. “Let’s go, then.”

  “Right now?”

  “Sorry.” He hadn’t even checked if she had more important things to do. “When would work for you?”

  She tapped the screen on her phone. “Actually, now is fine. I don’t have anything until ten-thirty.”

  That gave them a good hour and a half—not that it should take that long. “Cool.” He grabbed the studio keys and stood.

  She lifted her violin case, easing it off the desk.

  As they headed down the hallway, he tried to assess her demeanor. Had she forgiven him for thinking she was a drunk? Was she still mad, but doing him a favor anyway? “Thanks for doing this. You don’t have to.”

  Something flickered across her face. “I know. But I want to.”

  He unlocked the studio door, and ran his fingers across the wall panel of light switches. Bulbs flickered to life, highlighting the two halves of the room. Soundproof studio on one side, and technical-lounging-everything-else side.

  At the sound desk, he flicked on the inputs they would need. “Do you want to go in and warm up while I get set up?”

  “I practiced this morning so I should be okay. I just need to hear the track a couple of times. First with the vocals, then without.”

  “Sure thing.” Josh tapped a couple of screens, bringing up the tracks.

  She placed her violin case on a desk in front of the window into the studio and unclasped the lid. Opening the case, she used both hands to lift out her violin.

  Wow. Even from where he was standing, he could tell this was no ordinary instrument. It almost glowed, the light dancing across the subtle nuances of its surface. Craftsmanship like that did not come cheap.

  She shifted it to one arm, cradling it like a baby while she selected a bow from the four tucked into the red velvet case. Her braid fell across her shoulder, her face a study in concentration as she studied one bow, then another, finding differences between what appeared to be identical.

  He’d shared an office with her for two months and had no idea she was a musician. Add it to the list. Fear of flying. Dead brother. Violinist. Mysterious scar. What else had he missed in his blind judgment?

  With every layer she got more remarkable, more irresistible. She reached out, long lean fingers removing the chosen bow.

  Josh turned his attention back to his screens, making sure he had the tracks lined up correctly.

  “Where do you want me to stand?”

  “Either of the mics will be fine. Do you want some headphones?”

  She bit her lip, her forehead creasing. “Do I?”

  “They bring clarity, so you can try with, and then if you don’t like them, take them off.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  “You pick a mic, I’ll turn it on, and then you can just talk to me. Don’t need to press a button or do anything.”

  “Got it.”

  She looked so worried he couldn’t help himself from tugging at the end of her braid. “You’ll do great.”

  She smiled. “Thanks. Okay, in I go.”

  Paige strode to the door, her blue wrap top clinging to her curves in all the right places. In the studio, she set down her violin and bow and placed a pair of headphones over her ears. He depressed a button on his control panel. “Can you hear me?”

  She gave him a thumbs-up then picked up her instrument, tucked it under her chin and raised the bow. “Can you play it with the vocals?”

  He pressed a few buttons, listened to the opening bars, then his own voice filled the room. She closed her eyes and tapped her foot, holding her bow above the strings, unmoving for the whole song. When it finished, she didn’t even open her eyes. “Again, please.”

  He restarted the song. This time, her bow played the air just above the strings. His ears reached for the notes that only angels could hear. At the end, she moved one ear of her headphones away from her ear and lifted her eyes to his. “Can I do it like this?”

  “Go for it.”

  She took a breath, rolled her shoulders, then repositioned her violin. “Okay I’m ready. No vocals.”

  He pressed a couple of buttons, stripped the vocal track back, cued up the rest, and then set them rolling.

  Eyes closed, violin up, she tapped her foot to the opening bars and lifted her bow. When the first notes came, they almost sent him into the wall. Pure and clear, the melody picked up the arrangement and set it free. Her bow and fingers moved, note after perfect note unfolding, building, releasing. As the song progressed, her face moved from concentration to serenity to joy.

  He had never heard anything like it. In all his years as a musician, in the many songs that included strings in the arrangements, he had never heard anything like this. He felt the music from the tip of his toes to the longest hair on his head.

  He closed his eyes and let the music sweep him away. Notes that picked up every nuance of the song. Regret. Redemption. Painful endings. New beginnings. It didn’t need the words. It was all there, raw, haunting, ethereal. The final notes lingered, settling around him like a shroud. He grasped at the past, wanting to return to four minutes ago, and start it all over again.

  “Who is that?”

  He hadn’t even felt Connor join him. Josh opened his eyes. “It’s Paige.”

  His brother-in-law didn’t even give him a glance, his attention focused inside the studio. “I know who it is, but who is she?” He pointed at the glass. “That is not just some girl who took a few lessons once.”

  On the other side of the glass, she lifted her chin, removed her violin and lowered her arm so the instrument rested against her forearm.

  Lifting her eyes, she pinned him across the room. This was the point where he should be leaning on his speaker, telling her it was amazing. But there were no words. He’d been leading a worship band for a decade, helped create over a hundred songs but he’d never felt one echo in his soul like this.

  He smiled, shook his head, and leaned on the button. “Who are you? A Juilliard prodigy in witness protection or something?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “Not quite.”

  “Not quite about sums it up,” Connor muttered, shoving his pho
ne toward him. He glanced down to the web page Connor had opened. Paige McAllister Named Youngest Ever Violinist to Join Chicago Symphony ran across the screen. Underneath the headline sat a promo picture of her—evening gown, hair loose, Mona Lisa smile, holding the very same violin that was mere meters away. The date was December 2010.

  His chest constricted. What happened to her? How had a violinist for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra ended up in Sydney planning his tour?

  His gut told him the answer had everything to do with her brother and the scar she didn’t talk about.

  The problem was, women and their secrets had never worked out well for him.

  Twenty-Five

  Josh shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk, searching for the agenda for their final tour planning meeting. It started in fifteen minutes and for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what he was supposed to be covering. What was wrong with him? He played in front of thousands of people every week. How could the idea of having to be in the same room with one feisty blonde American have him so off-key?

  Her violin performance had left him unable to stop thinking about her. Wondering about the secrets she carried. With all but the smallest details of the tour locked down, she’d moved back to her office. He hated walking into his and not finding her there. Hated that every time a new email popped up, he hoped it was from her. He had it bad. And he needed to shake it.

  There. He found the piece of paper he needed, added it to his pile and headed out the door. Six days. He just had to manage six more days. Then they’d be back on tour. He’d be gone for a month. Paige would go back to working full-time on Grace, and they’d hardly need to cross paths.

  Logic dictated she was all wrong for him. Logic. That was what he had to follow. Not his heart. What was the verse in Jeremiah about the heart being deceitful? He’d already learned that lesson the hard way. It had almost cost his parents everything they’d worked so hard for.

  Plus the words that he’d spoken to Sarah kept coming back to him: people with a relationship status of “it’s complicated” were a no-go zone.

  He strode up the path leading to the main office. Even the gum trees reminded him of Paige, of the night of the not-drop bear. He just needed to be friendly, but professional. Nothing more. Avoid being alone with her and her cute accent and fiery eyes that made him want to dip her in his arms and kiss her breathless.

  Why couldn’t he make the smart choice? Someone like Kellie. She didn’t send his pulse hammering like a construction site, but she was smart, loved God, and got the pressures that came with being a Tyler. They’d make a great team.

  The main doors slid open in front of him and he trudged toward the stairs.

  “Excuse me?” A guy in a green polo shirt approached, holding an enormous bouquet of flowers. “Can you tell me how I find the main reception?”

  “Sure, it’s just up here.” He gestured toward the stairs. “I’m heading there myself.”

  “Thanks.”

  Josh turned to him as they strode up the stairs. “Who are you looking for?”

  The guy checked the envelope pinned to the bright purple wrapping. “Paige McAllister.”

  Josh almost found himself eating wood as he tripped over a stair. He caught himself just in time. They reached the landing and Josh willed his feet to continue across the walkway to the office. “Sure, I know Paige. Follow me.”

  He bypassed reception, and led the way to Paige’s office. She sat with her back to him, staring at the project plans pinned to her wall.

  It was good these flowers had shown up. They provided reinforcement right when he needed it, reminding him about the guy at the airport who clearly adored her with every atom of his being. So why did everything in him want to sag under the weight of disappointment? He fought the urge to grab the flowers from the guy, rip the envelope off, and give them to her himself.

  He tapped the doorframe.

  Paige spun around, a smile creasing her face when she saw him. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” He kept his voice cool. “There’s someone here for you.”

  She stood, her brow wrinkled. “Who?”

  Josh turned and beckoned to the flower guy, leaving him to make his delivery from her boyfriend aka Mr. It’s Complicated. Whichever it was.

  Time to put some distance between himself and the woman who could undo him with her smile and probably ruin him with her secrets.

  More flowers from Nate. Another bunch so large, you would’ve thought she won the Nobel Prize or something. Paige’s mind whirled like a roulette ball as she tried to focus on the agenda in front of her. She had to give him points for perseverance.

  “What do you think, Paige?” Josh’s eyes probed hers across the white-walled meeting room. “Do we let them release the tickets to the upper tier even though we know the acoustics aren’t as good up there?”

  “Only if they’re at a discount and we say something to that effect. People should know they’re buying inferior seats.”

  Josh nodded. “I agree. Did you get that, Matt? Let’s do a twenty percent discount on those tickets.” He directed his words to the conference phone connecting them to the New Zealand promoter.

  What was he thinking about her latest delivery? She ground her teeth together at the urge to suddenly tell him the flowers sitting in her office weren’t from her boyfriend. That she hadn’t flirted with him while someone waited for her back home. Though, from what Sarah said, given how obvious the girls chasing him were, he probably hadn’t even noticed her unwise flirtatious moments.

  “Flights are all booked?” Josh stabbed his phone, looked at the time.

  “Yes. All locked in. Itineraries will be emailed out tomorrow once we’ve confirmed a few other details.” She needed to get it together. There were only three of them in the room. It was obvious if a third of the attendees were present in body only.

  Her fingers drummed on the grey tabletop. Even though she remained a little irritated about the drinking thing, she’d still spent the last couple of days having to avoid him for fear that one more smile or one more teasing joke might pull the pin from the grenade and send her launching herself at him.

  She didn’t know what had possessed her to tell him about Ethan. But his response had only made her fall harder. He hadn’t pried, hadn’t tried to find out the details of what happened. Just let her say what she needed. Same with the violin. She could see in his eyes that he knew there was a story, but he didn’t try to extract what she wasn’t yet ready to give.

  She forced herself back to the conversation. Connor was looking at her like he was waiting for her to respond.

  Connor leaned back in his chair. “Accommodation is all confirmed?”

  Paige checked her tabbed-up notes, not that she needed to. “Everywhere except Christchurch.” Her stomach clenched. Focus, breathe. You’re okay. “I’m waiting to hear back from the Heritage about some room changes. They should be back to me by the end of today.”

  Josh closed his notebook. “Well then, I think we’re done. You have anything else, Matt?”

  It crackled. “Nope. All good here. I’ll get the discounted tickets released and send another update through on numbers at the end of the week.”

  “Great, thanks. We’ll talk again soon.” Josh pushed his chair back as he disconnected the call.

  Paige gathered up her papers and water bottle.

  “Con, can I grab you for a second?” Josh’s question filled her with relief. Being alone with Josh Tyler was about as good for her emotional stability as a bottle of tequila was for an AA member.

  “I’ll see you guys later.” Paige picked up her folder and headed for the door, leaving behind the guy who was everything she didn’t want, yet was finagling his way into her heart, to return to flowers from the perfect guy who was everything she should want, yet didn’t.

  Twenty-Six

  “Paige, come on in.”

  Janine looked up and smiled from her position on the couch in her office. It was only
when Paige walked through the door that she saw Josh seated opposite. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, with his fingers tented and his face somber.

  Paige glanced between the two of them. What was this about? Her feet led her forward, and she found herself perched on the edge of the same couch as Janine.

  “Is everything okay?” She directed the question to her boss. Paige racked her brain for something, anything. Nothing. Since she’d played in the studio the week before, she and Josh had been professional, cordial, but nothing more. She had no clue why she’d been called to an unscheduled meeting with the two of them.

  “We have a bit of a problem.” Josh’s voice turned Paige around in her seat to face him.

  “What now?” Paige ran her hands through her hair. The last few days had been nothing but problems—accommodation mix-ups, cancelled flights, you name it. If she didn’t know better, she’d be wondering if the band’s tour was jinxed. Now she was just praying they all made it to Auckland in time for Friday’s gig.

  “Annie’s broken her leg skiing. She’s going to be in a cast for up to six weeks.”

  Paige groaned. She’d just spent the last three days briefing the logistics assistant who was traveling with the band on the New Zealand leg of the tour. “Oh, the poor girl. How is she doing?”

  Josh shifted back into the couch cushions. “Well, right now she’s fly high on some pretty strong meds.”

  Paige knew all about those. For years she’d knocked back morphine, tramadol, meperidine, and oxycodone like normal people took Tylenol. “So do you need me to brief Malcolm?” He was their second logistics guy, managing the US leg of the tour.

  Josh shook his head. “Malcolm has a previous conviction issue. Nothing serious and usually not a problem, but it means he needs a visa to get into New Zealand and there’s not enough time. It takes about a month.”

  They had three days.