“The violin. I used to play with symphonies all over the world.”
Jessica’s pulse quickened. She could hardly believe that she’d found someone she had something in common with in the little community. She wanted to tell Vera that she played the cello, but she didn’t want to talk about her career, or worse, be asked to play something. The minute she picked up her cello, she’d remember the beauty of it against her, the vibration of the music, and her much-needed hiatus would be kaput. She was purposely not picking up her cello for a few days to separate herself from her love for it. She needed that space in order to make clearheaded decisions about whether this hiatus was temporary, or the beginning of a new direction altogether.
Chapter Three
JESSICA SAT WITH her feet buried in the sand and a dozen red roses in her lap, which she’d bought to give to Vera. She looked out at the harbor while she waited for the quartet to begin playing, having arrived early with the hopes of enjoying the view of the bay and pulling her thoughts together before the concert. The air was crisp, and it carried the salty, fishy scent of the bay. She wrapped her cardigan around herself and drew her knees up to her chest. She’d come to the Cape once as a teenager with a friend. It had been the one and only time she’d lied to her father about where she was going, and she’d felt so guilty that she’d come clean a few days later. He’d grounded her for a week, but his vibrant blue eyes had betrayed his words. I’m disappointed in you, he’d said, but it felt like his eyes conveyed that he was proud of her for breaking the rules. She was used to disappointing her mother. It seemed every missed note was a disappointment. But her father had never been critical of her playing, or of her. And when he’d said he was disappointed, it had crushed her. The combination of his stern words and that look had confused her for years, until her first year at Juilliard, when her mother had been disappointed in one of her performances, and her father, standing beside her mother, had said, Next time you’ll do better, but his eyes clearly relayed the message, I’m so proud of you. At that moment she’d understood how very alike she and her father were—both willing to kowtow to her mother—and how very different they were from her mother.
She inhaled the sea air and blew it out slowly, sending her negative memories into the night. She’d been thinking about Jamie, the girls from the pool, and Vera, all afternoon and evening. For the first time in her life, she was free from the strings of performing that had bound her for so many years. She had time for friends, like the girls at the pool, or Vera, whom she was sure she could talk to for hours.
She also had time to date.
Date. She’d gone on a few dates in recent years, but without fail, her dates would go on and on about something and her mind would fall back to her need to practice. Or, maybe most embarrassingly, she’d simply rather spend time playing her cello than with any of the men she’d dated. But now, as the breeze brought the music from the string quartet to the beach across the street and the notes threaded their way around her like an old friend, images of Jamie and the idea of dating danced closely together.
She couldn’t shake the look in his eyes as they rolled down her body, drinking her in as if he were dying of thirst. He probably thought she hadn’t noticed, but that quick look had sent an unfamiliar, and surprisingly welcome, shudder through her. He had an easy smile, and when she’d lost her mind and snapped at him, he hadn’t gotten angry or taken it as a personal affront. He’d simply offered to help her understand how to use eBay.
She’d put off thinking about how she’d lost that bid, too. She’d wanted so badly to win that auction that even now, thinking about it, made her throat swell. The music stopped, and she inhaled deeply, rose to her feet, and gazed across the street to where the string quartet was playing. The white tent rippled in the breeze as she made her way across the cool sand to the parking lot.
The music started up again, and she crossed the parking lot, her eyes on Vera, sitting proudly, playing her violin. She looked regal in a long black cotton skirt and blouse. Jessica had no hope of stifling the smile on her lips as she lowered herself to one of the metal chairs in the front row. Vera was right; there were only a handful of people in the audience.
A breeze picked up the hem of her dress, and she settled the bouquet she’d brought for Vera over it. She probably should have worn something longer to ward off the chill, but she loved the summery feel of the dress, and she felt more her age in it. She was so used to dressing conservatively for the symphony and social events surrounding her career that when she’d gone shopping for her vacation, she’d had to ask the salesgirl what women her age were wearing these days. She hadn’t realized how out of sync she was with other twenty-seven-year-olds.
“Hey there.”
She turned at the sound of Jamie’s deep voice. She was so caught up in the music that she didn’t realize he’d slid into the seat beside her, and now she couldn’t take her eyes off of him in his slate-blue long-sleeved shirt, which looked so soft and worn that she wanted to cuddle up to him, and a pair of jeans that had the faded marks of an old favorite where his muscular thighs tested the strength of the denim.
“Hi,” she whispered. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“My grandmother is playing.” He nodded at Vera. “Vera Reed, on the violin.”
“She’s the one who invited me here. I met her at the pool.” She glanced at Vera, who was watching them with a smile. “She plays beautifully.”
“She does. I love to listen to her.”
“Shh.”
They turned, and a white-haired man sitting behind them pointed to the stage.
“Sorry,” they said in unison.
Jessica knew better than to speak during performances, but she could barely restrain herself from talking with Jamie. Jamie lifted one shoulder in an easy shrug.
They listened in silence to the rest of the concert. Jessica felt the heat of his gaze as he stole glances at her, and it took all of her efforts not to shift her eyes to him. She held on to the bouquet to keep herself grounded. When the music ended, she finally allowed herself a good look at Jamie. His dark hair was rustling from the breeze, and his warm, contagious smile reached his eyes as he applauded and lifted his chin in Vera’s direction. He glanced down at Jessica, and she didn’t know if it was her newfound sense of freedom, the lingering loveliness of the music, or the way his lips turned up at the end and slipped into something more flirtatious, but butterflies took flight in her stomach.
She felt herself grinning like a sixth grader crushing on a boy when she spotted Bella, Amy, Jenna, and a beautiful, tall brunette coming toward them. She dropped her eyes, hoping they wouldn’t notice the way she was swooning over him.