I hesitate as I approach one of the servers, knowing that I should be in the midst of the crowd, shaking hands and talking about the good work the charity I'm here to support is doing. I curse under my breath, adjust the arm of my jacket and walk towards the atrium, hoping at some point, I'll see Isla again before the night is over.
***
She's more beautiful now than when I saw her in the lobby. She's different in this space, with her eyes closed, and her body moving slowly to the music.
Her hands are elegant, gifted and as she tilts her chin up at the last note, I realize that this isn't something I'd ever imagined when she stood in my office begging for a second chance to sell lingerie at my boutique or when I saw her at Skyn, using her body to capture the attention of every man in that club.
This young woman has the entire room enthralled. I'd noticed the haunting sounds of the violin the moment I stepped into the space. I'd pushed my way politely through the spellbound crowd until I stood next to my mother mere feet from where the quartet had set up. That's when I saw who was creating the lingering melody that hung in the air. It's Isla.
She parts her lips as soft applause fills the space. I join in, tapping my hands together quietly as I stare at her, in awe of what I've just witnessed.
A dark haired woman holding a viola speaks softly to her. Isla nods and touches her shoulder gently before she pulls the bow back and glides it across the strings of the violin resting beneath her chin.
The woman joins in, her viola a perfect accompaniment to the tender sounds of Isla's violin. Davis Benoit is next to her, a cello perched at the ready. Another violinist is playing but I hear nothing, nothing, but the music that Isla is producing.
I look down at my mother who is captivated by the sounds, her eyes closed, her body slowly swaying as she finds comfort in the music.
This is one of the loves of her life. As children, she'd take us to the symphony when our friends were going to blockbuster movies. She enrolled my brothers and me in music lessons, but Caleb and I failed miserably. It was Asher, my youngest brother, who found his passion there.
I know talent when I see it. I've been trained by my mother's ear to recognize a true gift and that's what Isla possesses.
I feel a tap on my shoulder that I try to ignore, instead keeping my eyes focused solely on Isla. She's enchanting and with each new piece of music she plays, I'm more compelled to stand in place.
"Gabriel." A voice punctures the moment, seeping into my ear. "This is important. We need to talk right now."
I recognize the voice instantly. It's a friend of my father's; a man who worked for our company for decades before I stepped in and pushed the old ways, and him, aside. He was dead weight, pulling a hefty salary for essentially traveling on our dime. He did nothing and when I cut him a severance check and sent him on his way, I'd dealt with the wrath of my father. Our relationship has never fully recovered from that but the company has. I've increased our profits each year since then and I see no end in sight for our success.
I ignore him, hoping he'll recognize my inattention as a refusal to speak. He doesn't. He becomes more persistent, tapping me on the back now, his voice raising a full notch.
The woman playing the viola mutters something indistinguishable under her breath but the words, and disdain, are directed at me. I'm not going to tarnish this moment for Isla so I turn quickly on my heel directing him through the crowd and out of the room.
"What the fuck do you want, Cyril?" I don't try and temper my annoyance.
"It's Roman." He looks past me towards the atrium. "Was that Gianna with you?"
"That's none of your business. What about my father?"
I force myself to face him. His ineptitude may have cost him his job but he's still trying to claw his way back into my good graces. I want nothing to do with the man.
"You haven't heard yet?"
His non-answer only irks me more. "If you have something to say do it now so I can focus on my evening."
"Your father is getting married."
"What?" I snap back. "To who?"
"Caterina Omari." He takes a step back as if he's uncertain of how I'll react to that.
She's a model whose name means nothing to me. She'd thrown herself at both Caleb and me when she was in the vying for a spot in the woman's fashion show in Paris two years ago. I'd turned her down swiftly. Caleb, not one to mute his opinion for anyone, had chastised her in the press for being unprofessional. Neither of us had any interest. Apparently my father does.
"He's a grown man. His decisions are his own." I turn back towards the atrium and pause. "Send him my regards."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Isla
"Your grandmother would have been so proud of you tonight, Isla." Davis wraps his arm around my shoulder as we exit the concert hall. "I wish she could have been here to see you."