We grin at each other. Connecting over this common passion.
And then it comes to me. I jump up a little, just on the spot, I’m so excited.
“Cadence? I have a proposition for you.”
“Sebastian, I already-…”
“No, hear me out. This has nothing to do with you and me, it’s actually a favor for the band.”
“Ok.”
“And the school.”
“I’m listening.”
“You know we’re here for a few months right?”
“No.”
“Well, we are, for about ten weeks. We’re here to work on the arrangements and record our next album.”
I wait for her to nod before continuing.
“Well, we need a pianist for a few of our tracks. We didn’t bring one with us, but over the last few days we’ve been wanting to open up the sound to about three or four of our new tracks.”
“No.” She knows where I’m going and she shakes her head.
“Hang on… don’t say no yet. It won’t be a huge commitment, but you’ll be perfect for it. And when we’re done… when it’s done, I will donate $50 000 to the school’s music program. That should get you to Canberra and back. For the next few years, I imagine.”
She gasps.
I need to hit while the iron’s hot. “For a few hours a week rehearsing and recording over the next ten weeks. For $50 000. What do you say?”
She just shakes her head and I can’t believe she’s refusing.
“Don’t say ‘no’ without seriously thinking about this Cadence.” I warn her.
She just stares at me, openmouthed. “But, why? Why would you do this?”
“Because we need someone like you to remind us why we’re all in this, and why we got into this in the first place.”
“Sebastian.”
“Look, you don’t have to answer right away.” Especially if your answer is going to be no, I tell myself.
“Ok.”
“How ’bout now?” I ask again quickly.
She gives me a look that probably has her kids shaking in their school shoes. The effect on me is higher up my body, and I have to bite my tongue to stop it.
“Just think about it.” I hand her a piece of paper with my number on it. I ignore the spark that shoots up my arm when she takes it from my fingers. I don’t expect any less now when I touch her. “And let me know, Mary.”
“Why-?”
I lean in and whisper in her ear, “You’ll have to call to find out.”
And stealing one last look, I walk out the door and wonder if I’ll ever hear from her again.
CADENCE
“I have conditions.” I say when he opens the door to his hotel room three hours later. He sent a car when I called to say I wanted to talk and it’s brought me here.
I try to ignore the fact that he broke out into a huge grin as soon as he saw me. Fixating on that’s just going to make the swarm of butterflies in my stomach take flight. And I have to remind them, that this is just about the school and the kids.
“Come in and have a drink,” he reaches his hand out, and I pull back.
“Um, is there somewhere else we can talk? A little more out in the open?” I’m not sure which one of us I don’t trust when it comes to us being alone.
“Sure, but you can pay for the drinks then. In here, you can have anything, everything you want. And trust me, I have everything.”
Something about him makes me constantly want to challenge him, so I ask “What about some Choyo?” I name a rare Japanese plum wine.
“You want that heated up or cold?” He asks, without missing a beat, and turns back into the room towards a drinks cart.
I follow him, as if lured into the room by a magnetic force drawing me to him. “You have it?”
“Cadence, when are you going to stop questioning me?” He winks and pours a glass of wine and brings it over to me, taking my bag and jacket and laying them down on the couch.
The lounge of his suite is almost as big as my entire apartment. An entire side is windows and looks out to the Sydney city skyline. It’s a view I don’t see often, and it’s breathtaking. I walk over to press my hand against the glass, it’s cold and I pull my hand back, knocking the glass in my other hand over.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” I bend over to pick up the glass but he’s already there, taking it from my hands and pushing them away as I try to mop up the spill with the napkin he’d slipped under the glass.
“Don’t worry about it! It’ll just blend in with all the other drink spills I leave behind.”
Something about the opulence of the room has me a little unnerved and it takes me a little while to notice he’s still holding my hand.
I pull it away, and he looks a little surprised, hurt.
“Oh, I’m sorry, you just looked a little shaken up. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s OK. Um, let’s just get back to those conditions?”
“Yes, ma’am!” He sits down on the couch and gestures to the seat next to him.
I grab my bag and settle down in the settee across from him, and try to sound as confident as I can negotiating a deal that’s more money than I’ve ever had to handle.
“So, I have four conditions and I want them in a signed contract ”
“Ok, name ’em.”
“Firstly, the rehearsal and recording time can’t interfere with my normal work at the school, which is mostly school hours and some Saturday time.”
“Done. We are night owls, we can practice at any time.”
“Oh. OK, good. Um, two. I imagine that you normally would pay a musician for playing on your record, an hourly rate or fixed rate or whatever
“Yes.”
“But since you’ve agreed to the donation amount to the school, that will be the entirety of my fee.”
“Hang on a minute that’s not fair to you.”
“No discussion. Yes or I walk right now.”
“Cadence.”
I cock an eyebrow. It’s a well-weathered teacher’s ‘don’t cross me’ eyebrow, and it seems to work on cocky musicians as well.
“Fine.”
“Three. I want to audition for the rest of the band and make sure they’re going to be OK with this.”
“They’re fine. I wouldn’t make this deal if I didn’t think they’d be OK with it.”
“Well, good. Then they can tell me themselves when I audition.”
He just shrugs.
“And four. This is a purely professional transaction. We are not going to fall madly in love or lust. I told you before, Sebastian. I am not interested in anything personal with you. If you pursue anything, I’m out. ”
He gets up from the couch and I can’t figure out if I’ve offended him or amused him. He turns toward the view for a moment, running his hands up and down his legs and then back to me.
“What did he do to you?”
“Who he did what?” I ask, confused.
“Who made you so afraid of men that you need to put it in a legal contract to ensure you’ll stay away from me?”