When Julian climbed into bed last night, I felt his arm wrap around me, but I was too tired to notice what time he got home.
But I awoke alone in bed this morning. Julian is already preparing breakfast at the dining table.
“Good morning,” I say. As usual, he looks more appealing than the food.
“Come here. I was about to wake you up.” He gestures to me and pops a small piece of tomato into his mouth.
Instead of sitting, I approach him and wrap my arms around his body.
Hmm. He smells like he just got out of the shower. It was a mixture of mint, citrus, earthy, and pure masculine notes...
“You didn’t wake me up when you came last night,” I grumble.
He chuckles lightly. Great. He’s in a good mood. Yesterday had been a crazy day for both of us. “You were comatose. But I enjoy sleeping and waking up next to you.”
“Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing.” I kiss his lips and then pull out a chair to sit on. “How was your night?”
“Not good.” His throat tightens, and he lets out a grunt. “I hated parties, so I barely attended one, especially if it was held at the company. Rafe lied to me when he said he couldn’t come. He was there.”
“Why did he want you there?”
He stares at me for a few beats before grabbing a chair and sits. He adds bacon and eggs to his plate. I mirror him.
“Let me guess. He also asked you to return,” I add.
“That’s a never-ending problem. Stella was there too.”
“Ah, I see what happened now,” I sarcastically say. “What about her?”
“We just talked about some boring stuff.”
“Can you be more specific?”
He laughs with a deep, refined tone. “My beautiful precious. You sound angry.”
“And I’m really going to get angry if you don’t tell me right now.”
“She confronted me about working together. She wanted the label to re-release the new version of her album with my name on it.”
I scowl at him. “Is she really that impervious? What did you say to her, and what will you get out of it?”
“Absolutely not. She’s insane.” He poured some warm milk for me from the pitcher. “However, what you said made me think.”
“What did I say?”
“About coming back and making music again.”
I frown as I give him a slow smile. “Are you sure it’s not because of Stella?”
He shoots me a serious look. “I was about to say because of Peter’s proposal.”
“Really?” That would make his friend happy. After all, that is what he wishes to happen.
“Yes. In any case, I won’t let any other composer work on your song. Even the same record label faces competition. You should know this.”
Wow. This already sounds like a big deal. It’s making me giddy!
Me? Becoming a professional composer? That’s my lifelong dream!
That’s my lifelong ambition!
“I won’t work with anybody either. But I don’t want to feel like I’m there solely because of you.”
“I hate to tell you this, but that’s how our industry works,” he says truthfully. He consumes a portion of his eggs, followed by a fork of pancake.
I drink my milk while watching him eat. I’m still fascinated by his eating habits.
“You mean to get in, you need someone to back you up?”
“That isn’t exactly how it works. It’s simple to have someone on your side. That’s right. However, not everyone has what it takes to stick around. Many artists have tried this, but they have all left due to the pressure. If Rafe doesn’t like someone, he’ll see you at the door, and it’s over. But if he thinks you’re useful, that’s great for the artist.”
“That was very strict. What if he rejects my song? I’m not sure if I have what it takes.” Suddenly, I’m terrified of confronting this opportunity.
“For that matter, he trusts both my skills and Peter’s. He’ll like your song.” He holds my hand. “So it’s not up to the person helping you, but to your own skills and talents.”
“Good point,” I say, nodding. “It’s only one song, so I’m sure there’s nothing to be concerned about.” I convince myself and begin eating my breakfast.
“There’s a chance. Don’t shut the door just yet.” He leans in and kisses my head. Is this his way of motivating me? “Finish up. We’re going to be late.”
“Oh, yes. Regarding that.” I swallow the food in my mouth. “I suppose I’ll have to drive my new car. As usual, you do something extraordinary. Who would give such an expensive gift to a girlfriend? Only you.” I’m curious if he did the same with his ex-fiancée. Oh, well, I guess not. Stella can afford a car, unlike me.
His eyes narrow. “You don’t like it? I think blue suits you.”
“It’s not that! Spending so much money on me is too much.”
“This is the only way I know you’re safe from prying eyes. Would you rather be seen getting into my car or walking a mile away from school to avoid being seen? That sounds exhausting.”
My shoulders sag. “That’s unfair.”
“It isn’t.” He takes another bite of pancakes and a sip of coffee. Why does he get coffee while I get milk? “Let’s not bring it up again. Driving that car will be convenient for you.”
“Of course, a car is convenient. But I’m only borrowing it. Not mine.”
“Fine, if it makes you feel better. But it’s already in your name, so...”
“But you know, I don’t want anyone driving me. “I don’t need a driver.”
“Don’t worry. You will drive it yourself.”
“I don’t have a driver’s license.”
“I’ve got your license ready.” He smirks, as if he knows he’s won. “I’ll get it to you later. I’m assuming you know how to drive.”
“Of course I can drive.” I sigh. This is probably the argument I can’t win.
I’m wondering if I could tell my benefactor about this.
No, no. He’ll find out I have a boyfriend, and he’s a Sebastian. I’m not ready to give him that information just yet.
***
I drive to Whitlock in a separate car, which is my first time driving such a costly vehicle. I don’t look like a scholarship student, but someone with wealthy parents.
I pull up next to a black BMW and park. I suppose this isn’t so bad. He’s also right about the color. Blue looks stunning because they’re like his eyes.
I walk to my first period and see Lora and Kristoff in the same row. Julian still isn’t in class. He is probably getting ready, so we still have ten minutes to kill.
“Hey, guys.” I sit between them.
“Good morning.” Kristoff’s mouth curves into a smirk. “You smell nice. I have an interesting story to tell you.”
“Stop flirting. Let’s talk about that interesting thing later,” I say. “Are you all set for this afternoon?”
“Ready, but I’m nervous.” Lora shudders. “The prelims are this week. Only one will be chosen from our program to compete with St. Agatha. One from each department, to be exact. This is the moment of truth.” She scans the room full of talented songwriters and composers.
“Winning this competition is my only chance to meet my benefactor,” I explain. But his condition seems so unreachable. How can I beat these accomplished people?
“What’s your benefactor thinking? It’s almost as if he’s telling you it’s impossible to meet him?” Kristoff argues.
“Right? He’s making our friend worry,” Lora concurs.
“Anyway, I can’t keep this information to myself for much longer,” Kristoff continues. “This is about your benefactor.”
I frown with wonder. “What about him?”
“I looked into John Pitch and his assistant.”
Lora frowns at Kristoff, too. ”Did you? So, what did you discover?”
Or perhaps I don’t have to win the competition to meet John Pitch. I don’t want him to be the only reason I want to win. I want to do it for myself, and if I don’t make it to the final round, maybe I’m not good enough.
“For starters, John Pitch is not his real name. It’s the same as John Smith or John Doe. Listen to this.”
Kristoff and Lora move closer to me.
“I had my father’s secretary look for this before,” Kristoff goes on, “and I only got his reply yesterday. There are no records of John Pitch’s other work except this scholarship. Nothing about his family, age, origins, office, or why he has so much money to support college students. He also tried to track the IP address linked with Dean Melnard’s emails, but it redirected him to a remote location in India. What the hell was that? Isn’t it strange? It’s as if he purposefully concealed all traces of him. Unless John Pitch has a different persona,” Kristoff explains.
“Perhaps,” I say. I’ve considered that.
“So, who do you think he is? So mysterious,” Lora remarks.
“Yes, and Mr. Melnard’s picture on his email profile is a stock photo.”
“So you didn’t discover anything?” Lora smirks. “What’s the point?”
“We’re still looking. Kite’s investigative skills are being tested, so we’ll continue. Maybe starting with the high school where you graduated. Your principal is probably familiar with John Pitch. We’re getting there,” Kristoff says, rubbing his hands together.
Wow. I guess he sees this as a challenge.
“Who’s Kite?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Sorry. He’s my father’s secretary.”
“Or you could start with Professor Sebastian,” Lora suggests, shrugging.
My eyes widen. “What? Why?”
“Wasn’t he there when you were picked for the scholarship?” Lora reminds me, which I remember, but that’s not the point.
“He probably doesn’t know. He would have brought it up. I told him about my benefactor,” I say.
“Did you?” Kristoff scowls, mystified. “You talked to Julian about this?”
Lora purses her lips shut.
Oh my God. We slipped.
“What now?” Kristoff asks again, looking at my and Lora’s guilty utterances.
“Uh, I told him about it when you asked him to drive me once, remember?” I say.
“Ah.” He blinks as if thinking. “Yes, I remember that.”
“That was the, uh, time.”
Kristoff gave a shrug. “Maybe I’ll ask him.”
I sigh in relief.
“I’m sorry,” Lora whispers to me.
“It’s fine.” I squeeze her hand.
But damn. What would have happened if Kristoff found out and I wasn’t prepared to give him an explanation? How long can I keep this secret?
After a brief pause for thought, Professor Sebastian walks into the classroom.