Nine

  Melodie

  ‘That Kiss Though…’

  atrick Piper had left hours ago, but I was still trembling. In fact, for the P remainder of the day, I’d been holed-up in my office, trying to figure out what the hell had happened.

  That kiss…

  It was inappropriate and completely rapey!

  Forget the fact that it somehow felt right… Never mind that the minute his mouth was on mine, my toes curled in my shoes and my panties turned 126

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  damp… It didn’t matter that had the circumstances been different – like, blind-date, we-met-at-the-jazz-bar different – I absolutely would have let Patrick Piper screw me senseless – it was inappropriate and unwarranted.

  And then he’d been cocky as hell. He’d actually admitted to not being sorry, and I got the sense that if he had the opportunity, he’d do it all over again. No, there was no way he could take over NYSM, with me working alongside him as his assistant. I’d made the right move when I’d sent his ass packing.

  But that kiss though…

  I touched my fingers against my bottom lip, the one he’d sucked into his mouth, right before he groaned. The minute he’d kissed me everything had changed. Like, literally. I had seen stuff: a goddamn rainbow had appeared before my very eyes; colors I hadn’t seen in years manifested themselves, literally before my very eyes.

  127

  Brooklyn Knight But more than that, I’d seen him. It’d been blurry, but I’d seen him: towering and sculpted, like one of those marble statues in the New York Museum. His long hair dipped just past his broad shoulders, in silky, golden waves. He had eyes that were as blue as a cloudless, summer sky. I’d seen it all, even if it had only been for half a second. Even if it had scared the crap out of me. I had seen it…

  But it didn’t make sense. How the hell could it have been possible?

  I tapped my walking stick against the floor, deep in thought, trying to understand what could have happened, but the more I thought about it, the more frustrating it became.

  Patrick Piper was god-like. No wonder he was cocky as hell. There was no way I would let him invade my personal space the way he had and not kick his ass out of the building.

  It didn’t matter what it was like where he was from.

  Obviously, he came from a patriarchal, misogynistic 128

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  community, where women tended to the needs of men without regard for their own.

  I was not one of those women. Never had been, never would be.

  Still…

  What I had felt, no – what I had seen – I couldn’t get it out of my mind.

  And who the hell were we gonna hire now that the best candidate had been axed off the list?

  The day dragged on, and now, it was eight o’clock in the evening.

  Steve and I had been sitting in my office for the better part of three hours, flipping through resumes, trying to find another candidate for the position, because clearly, Patrick Piper was not an option. Raf had long since arrived at my office from school, and he’d finished his homework. He was munching on potato chips and chugging back a soda.

  He was also listening to Steve’s and my deliberations.

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  “Nobody cuts the mustard,” I said through a groan, rubbing my eyes.

  “That’s not entirely true,” Steve countered.

  “There are a few candidates here who cut the mustard, just none of them as well as Patrick Piper does.”

  I drew in a breath.

  Raf’s voice piped up. “Who is Patrick Piper?”

  “That’s the guy we were gonna hire as the new director of NYSM,” Steve said.

  “What happened? Did you not like him, Mama?”

  Did I not like him?

  There was no way I would tell Raf the truth about what had happened. He already thought he was my guardian angel. The last thing I needed was for him to worry about this. “He wasn’t quite the right fit,” I answered carefully, and I smiled. The smile was so fake, after a few seconds, my cheeks began to ache.

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  Steve shuffled. “What exactly happened in the office, Mel?” he asked. “When I came in, you were super frazzled, but you never told me what went on. And you were crying.” He whispered the last part.

  “I wasn’t crying,” I lied. “My eyes were stinging, and I teared up.”

  Steve didn’t respond, and I could only imagine the look on his face.

  “And nothing happened,” I lied more.

  “Then why did you tell him to leave?”

  “Because he was arrogant and smug, and I just couldn’t see him fitting in with us and the rest of the staff,” I said.

  Raf spoke again. “But Mama, most accomplished musicians are arrogant,” he suggested.

  “Especially the really good ones, and Patrick Piper, he’s really good, isn’t he?”

  “He’s better than good…” I muttered. “On paper, anyway.”

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  “He has a point, Mel,” Steve commented.

  “That’s how these guys are. You know that. How many have we fraternized with? They act like their crap is golden.”

  “And maybe you didn’t like Mr. Piper because of his name,” Raf added.

  I frowned. “Rafael, what in the world are you talking about?”

  “Piper,” he clarified, “like the Pied Piper of Hamelin in the story you used to read me every night. You hated him!”

  “Rafael, you’re twelve years old,” I scolded him. “I need you to know that the story is a fictional one. The Pied Piper of Hamelin is not a real person.”

  I huffed. “And what does that have to do with Patrick Piper and what happened today?”

  “No, Mel, Raf could be right. Maybe it’s a subconscious thing,” Steve suggested, buying into the tommyrot my son was suggesting. “Maybe you projected your disgust for the character in the book onto Patrick Piper. You couldn’t see him, but he was 132

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  totally dressed like the guy in the story – only a super-rich, modern version.”

  Steve was wrong. I had actually seen him, but there was no way I’d tell him that.

  He continued. “It’s a known fact that people who are super talented can come off as quirky sometimes. Look at Lady Gaga.”

  “Or Kanye West,” Raf added.

  I pointed a finger in his direction. “Kanye West is more than quirky,” I argued, and then I sighed. My aversion to working with Patrick Piper had nothing to do with his similarity to the uncouth character in the folktale, and everything to do with the way he had kissed me and shown no remorse for his behavior.

  The way he had kissed me.

  My toes curled just thinking about it.

  “I hear everything you guys are saying, but Patrick Piper is a cocky-somebody, and there’s no way I’m working with him. There’s gotta be 133

  Brooklyn Knight someone else in this stack of papers, and we’ll find them, Steve. Even if it takes us all week.”

  “Fine,” Steve said slapping his hands on top of my desk.

  I startled.

  “Well, I’ve had enough for tonight. If you don’t mind Mel, I’m going home; and if the two of you are gonna be getting a ride in my car, it means you’re going home too.”

  Rafael rose from where he was, and I gathered my things to follow; and thoughts of Patrick Piper trailed right along with me.

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  Ten

  Patrick

  ‘A Listening Ear’

  hen I arrived at the dwelling, I was pleased to smell the aromas of food W being prepared in the kitchen.

  Maude was a feisty middle-aged woman, but she had heeded my instructions and governed herself accordingly.

  Good.

  I shrugged out of my blazer and held out my arm for the driver to take it out of my hand. He 135

  Brooklyn Knight stalled for a second but removed it and headed deep into the house.

  I swung around and glared at him. “Be careful with that,” I barked. “It must be put in my quarters, and no other fabric should touch it.”

  The man dipped his head. “Of course, Mr.

  Piper.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair and allowed my nose to lead me. “Prometheus!” I shouted out.

  My voice boomed and bounced off the walls.

  “Come, we must talk.”

  He didn’t answer, and I frowned. My anger had already been sufficiently stoked and I had no patience for insubordination. If Prometheus didn’t answer me immediately, there was no telling what I would do to him.

  I stomped around a corner into the sitting room, and when I saw Maude in an armchair and Prometheus at her feet, like a preschooler at story-time, I froze with rage.

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  Her salt and pepper hair had been pulled into a neat bun and her cheeks blushed rosy.

  Prometheus had been right. This middle-aged woman appeared to be very tender and maternal, but these observations did nothing to abate my aggravation. If anything, they fueled it.

  “What the hades are the two of you doing?” I bellowed.

  Prometheus jumped to his feet and his eyes shot to the floor.

  Maude sat straight in the chair, her eyes wide with shock.

  “Your Worthiness, forgive me. Miss Maude was telling me a story from her childhood, and I was completely enraptured by the tale.”

  My mouth pulled into a straight line and I glared at Maude. “Maude, why are you treating my assistant like a little boy?” I demanded in a seething whisper.

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  “I’m doing no such thing,” she responded, pressing her hand against her chest. “I was only telling him stories about my family.”

  My eye twitched. “I asked you to make lunch,” I said in a whisper.

  “And it’s just about ready,” she said moving around Prometheus, who was still staring at the ground in deference. “Honey, I can see you’ve had a dreadful day, and I want to hear all about it.” She crooked her finger and beckoned me.

  I stiffened but followed her anyway. “I told you in the car,” I reminded her, “my affairs are none of your concern.”

  Maude hissed and swiped a dismissive hand at me. “Boy, there is no way I’m gonna let you walk around here, with your face all bent up, spreading toxic energy around the house - especially as handsome as you are. What if you were to meet a pretty girl and she was to see your face looking like that?” Her back was facing me as she hurried to the kitchen, so she didn’t see the look of disapproval 138

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  smeared across my countenance. I might have considered her words, especially given what had happened with Melodie, but Melodie was blind, so Maude’s point was moot.

  My teeth gritted.

  Prometheus touched my arm. “If I may, Your Worthiness, Miss Maude might have a point,” he suggested. “You’ve been on edge since we arrived in New York. Perhaps she will offer timely advice. She seems very wise.”

  I growled and jerked away from Prometheus.

  Without saying anything more, he pulled out my chair and I dropped into it, just as Maude was bringing over a bowl of whatever she had prepared. I did not expect it to be anything like the offerings served to me in Paradise. The fruits and vegetables in the gardens that surrounded the secret gate were unlike anything in the entire universe. Still, I couldn’t deny that the aromas emanating from the bowl she had now placed before me were titillating my senses.

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  Brooklyn Knight My stomach rumbled.

  “What is this?” I snapped.

  “Now this is my world-famous stew,” she announced. Her chin lifted with pride.

  “How do you know that it’s famous?”

  “Because people used to come from near and far to sample it. Years ago, my husband, sons and I used to run a kitchen from the back, on the first floor.”

  “You’re married?”

  “Yes,” she said, but then she paused. “Well, I was…”

  “And you have sons?”

  “I did…” The smile that had been on her face since our arrival dimmed a little.

  “What happened to them?” I pressed her.

  “Where are they now?”

  “Very unfortunately, my boys were lost at sea,” Maude answered. Her mouth tightened and trembled. “They were fishermen,” she continued, trying to rejuvenate the spunk in her voice. “Alfred 140

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  and the boys used to bring home all sorts of fish, Tuna, Snapper, conch. They used to sell it at the local market. And then we expanded and became one of the major distributors to supermarkets in the city.”

  Her mouth pressed tight and she shrugged a loose shoulder. “But they’re gone. Been gone for fifteen years. Josh was twenty-one and Eagan was eighteen.

  Now, it’s just me.” She tried to smile.

  Prometheus bristled behind me. “That makes me really sad, Miss Maude.”

  I looked down at the stew and picked up my utensil. Without saying anything, I shoved the vittles into my mouth. Instantly, an array of flavors erupted on my tongue, and I looked up at Maude, who was staring back, waiting for my assessment of her cooking. “This is… delicious,” I said, staring back into the plate.

  “Just delicious?” she asked leaning closer.

  Her spunk was returning.

  “It is… fantastic,” I clarified. “In fact, I have never tasted anything so delectable.” I flicked my 141

  Brooklyn Knight hand in Prometheus’s direction. “We must carry this recipe back when we return,” I commanded. “My chefs will prepare this for me.”

  “See, I told you,” Maude declared slapping her thigh. “Famous.” Suddenly, she plopped into the seat adjacent to me. “There’s nothing like a good meal to make you feel better after a long day,” she suggested. She rested her hand on top of mine, and my eyes dropped. “Tell me what happened at your new job, honey. All you need is a listening ear.”

  Prometheus nodded, grinning.

  I put my utensils down and dragged my hand over my face. My back slammed against the chair. “I met with Melodie Harper,” I muttered.

  “Who is Melodie Harper?”

  “She is the object of his desire,” Prometheus announced, wiggling his eyebrows.

  I gritted my teeth, but before I could snatch him by the throat, Maude cooed.

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  “See, now I just knew there had to be a woman,” she said. “Tell me about her. Is she the reason you’ve come to New York?”

  I scrubbed my jaw. “Yes,” I admitted, “in a way. There are some other things I need to attend to, but Melodie Harper is the main reason.”

  Maude rubbed her hands together and I got the sense that she was in her element: feeding people and delving into the details of their personal affairs.

  She was like the women used to be in Hamelin.

  I frowned at the thought, but she pressured me to continue.

  “So, you met with Melodie today, but things didn’t go as planned?” she guessed.

  “Not exactly,” I snapped

  “Your Worthiness, if you would permit me to ask, what happened?”

  I rolled my eyes and shoved another spoonful of the delightful cuisine into my mouth. Maude was right: I felt both lighter and full at the same time, but now that I was thinking of Melody, an ache, like I 143

  Brooklyn Knight had never experienced, was settling in the pit of my stomach.

  I rested the utensil down and sighed. “I kissed her,” I blurted out.

  Maude gasped and Prometheus blushed.

  “She wasn’t happy about it, however,” I muttered. “At first she seemed to be. In fact, at first, I got the sense that she wanted the display as much as I wanted to show it, but then she jerked away and…” I shook my head, trying to clear the unpleasant memory away. “Admittedly, I don’t understand her behavior.”

  “Honey, when was the last time the two of you saw one another?” Maude asked cautiously.

  “She hasn’t met him before,” Prometheus answered on my behalf. “They’ve only spoken on the cellular phone-thing, and that was yesterday.”

  Maude’s eyes swung in my direction.

  “Patrick, no wonder she was turned off. You can’t just walk up to women and kiss them like that!”

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  “Why not?” I demanded slamming my fist on the table. “I wanted to taste her, so I didn’t think twice about doing it. I’ve never not gotten what I wanted, and anybody who has ever tried to tell me

  ‘no’ learns the hard way.”

  “So you’re nothing more than a spoiled brat?” Maude interpreted folding her arms.

  My neck jerked back. Was she insinuating that I was no better than the wretches I’d dragged away from their parents? I opened my mouth to respond, but apparently, Maude still had the floor.

  “And if you want this woman as much as I can see you do, do you really believe that bullying her into your arms will work?”

  “I’m not a bully,” I whispered.

  Prometheus cleared his throat, and my eyes swung in his direction.

  I scrubbed my jaw and raked my fingers through my hair. I didn’t like Maude’s tone. She was speaking to me as if I were a child, and the tenor angered me beyond belief. But despite this, her 145

  Brooklyn Knight words – as irritating as they were – somehow resonated. I thought of Celeste Dubois’s assessment of me.

  I wasn’t in Hamelin and neither was I in Koppelberg. The women in this universe were different than the ones I was accustomed to. Hades, I hadn’t been in the company of a proper woman for centuries, and the truth was, I wasn’t aware of the norms and customs associated with dealing with them, especially desirable ones.

  And I desired Melodie.

  No, I craved her. That one taste was still lingered on my tongue. Not even Maude’s famous stew could eradicate the savor of Melodie Harper.

 

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