“I don’t see why not. I’ll see what I can find. Someone who can come to the house.” Salima nodded. It sounded good to her. She kissed her mother goodnight then, and drifted back to her own room. She listened to several of the CDs they’d bought that afternoon, and sang along with them.
And in the kitchen, Simon was at his computer, checking Facebook, which gave him something to do. He saw then that Megan had sent him another e-mail. He read it, deleted it, closed his computer, and went back to his room. The one thing he knew was that their desperate, dishonest, twisted illicit affair had to end. But as he lay down on his bed and thought about her, he was sad. At least work was going well.
Chapter 6
THE NEXT DAY got off to a better start for Blaise. She walked into the kitchen just before five A.M. and fully expected to see Simon there again, handing her a cup of coffee. But he tried not to make the same mistakes twice. Her coffee was hot and waiting, but he was nowhere to be seen, and his door was closed. He had set the table for her, and put the newspapers next to where she sat. Her coffee was ready, and she didn’t have to see him. It was perfect, and she left for work in a much better mood.
Her morning segment went smoothly, and when she got to her office, she asked Mark to find her a music teacher, and he looked at her in amazement.
“You want to take singing lessons? Tap too? Does this have anything to do with Susie Q? You’re adding vaudeville to your segment?” She laughed at his response, and it was certainly a thought.
“It’s for Salima. She has a beautiful voice, and her new caretaker must have suggested singing lessons to her. It’s not a bad idea, especially since she’ll be home for a few months. It will keep her busy.” Blaise liked the idea too.
“Who do I call?” He looked blank. It was an unusual request for him.
“That’s up to you. Juilliard maybe? Or maybe they can steer you in the right direction. Maybe some of the students give lessons. I think there’s a high school for arts and music too. See what turns up.”
“Will do,” he said, and he called Juilliard a little later and was given several names. He left voicemail messages for each one and reported back to Blaise. “How’s the new guy working out by the way?”
“I’m not sure. Yesterday morning I was ready to kill him when he got in my face at five A.M. Last night, he made a meal worthy of La Grenouille, and he played the piano while Salima sang, and now he has her wanting to take singing lessons. He certainly opens up the world to her. Abby was more of a homebody, and a cozy person. This one opens up all the windows and gets air into the house. He even has her doing dishes. I don’t know, maybe it will work. At least until she goes back. It’s different anyway. But he keeps her busy. And whatever else he is, he’s a very bright guy.”
“Do you think he’s got the hots for her, with the piano playing and all of that?”
“No, I don’t. I just think he’s trying to figure out what interests her, and trying to relate to her through that. He’s a very proper guy. He’s got nice manners, and he’s well brought up, and he’s not inappropriate with either of us. It’s just weird having a man in the house. I’m not used to it anymore.”
“Maybe it will do you both good,” Mark said with a knowing look. He worried about her being alone all the time, and he was sad for her that at forty-seven, she hadn’t had a date in four years. It didn’t seem right to him, and she was beautiful and a good person, talented and smart. But he knew the story of Andrew Weyland and how badly she’d been hurt. He had seen her look devastated afterward for nearly a year. And now it was four, and she had removed herself entirely from the dating scene. She was much too comfortable alone. And he hated to see her stay that way. She deserved so much more. And her career, no matter how satisfying, wasn’t enough, even if she thought it was. And in Mark’s opinion, success was so ephemeral. Someone like Susie Quentin could come along anytime and maneuver Blaise right out of a job.