RUSH (City Lights, #3)(84)

“Noah, calme-toi, s’il te plait,” Lucien said, and for some reason his voice wasn’t fuel to the fire like my father’s.

I took a steadying breath and turned to my mother’s end of the table. “It’s just a party, Mom. A meeting. It doesn’t have to be terrible.”

I heard her push her chair and come around; her perfume grew strong and then she was holding my shoulders. “I can’t lose you again. Not again.”

She departed, presumably to watch one of the dozens of CSI shows she loved. My father fixed me with a disapproving stare I didn’t have to see to feel, and then he and Lucien retired to the study to smoke and talk overseas affairs. Ava remained at the table with me, and her cold front had turned positively frigid.

“I need to get back to Charlotte, so say what you’re going to say.”

“Where to start?” Ava mused. “Mother’s right, you know.”

“About my ‘daredevil stunts?’” I snorted. “According to the therapists at the facility, there was nothing I can’t do if I put my mind to it, right? Isn’t that the Kumbaya shit you guys were constantly spoon-feeding me?”

“Goddamn, but you’re selfish,” Ava snapped. “I meant, Mother was right about not being able to lose you again. You have no idea what you put her through when you worked for that f*cking magazine. You pride yourself on your writing,” she scoffed. “Yes, you’re good. So good, in fact, that Mother was in tears reading about your stunts, so exquisitely detailed. She was so scared all the time, what happened in Acapulco wasn’t even a surprise.”

I sat back in my chair.

“Oh, hadn’t thought of that, had you?” Ava snorted in disgust. “No, you were too busy living your life, you never thought about what it meant to her or Dad. Or Lucien. Or me.”

“Big talk coming from the woman whose offices are routinely shut down by bomb threats,” I retorted. “You have some nerve, name dropping Charlie Hebdo and then lecturing me about how dangerous my job is. Or was. Face it, Aves, neither one of us are cut out to live boring, sedate lives, and you know it. You, more than anyone, know I can’t sit behind a f*cking desk. Or maybe you were all happier with me being holed up at the townhouse, safe and sound?”

There was a silence and I imagined Ava twisting her wine glass around, planning her next line of attack. Instead, she sighed.

“You’re right. I hated your stunts too, but I hate the idea of you having to give it up more. I’m sorry that you’ve had to. But Planet X? I like Yuri; he always seemed like he was looking out for you. But the rest of those guys were jerks, and Deacon their king.”

I shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Really? And what does Charlotte think of your grand plan? Because she doesn’t strike me as a PX kind of gal. In fact, she’s the exact opposite of every single woman I’ve ever known you to be attracted to. And that’s a compliment.”

“How is she different? She’s smart, beautiful, talented…”

“Yes, on all counts. She’s also sweet, generous, and must have a heart of gold to not only have put up with your temper but to see you through these last few months. But she was really upset tonight. What happened? And don’t give me the whitewashed version you gave Mom and Dad.”

“There’s nothing more to tell. The guy had a knife, he stole Charlotte’s violin, we ran away.”

I wasn’t about to repeat the vile threats the junkie had made about Charlotte, not ever again.

“And that’s a pretty big deal to a concert violinist, I’d imagine,” Ava was saying. “She was probably really attached to her instrument.”

“Yes,” I said slowly. “But she hadn’t been serious about playing in a long time. She’s had…a rough year and is taking time off.”

“And that’s it?”

I shifted in my seat, thinking of the Vienna Touring Orchestra. The one that would take her away from me if she auditioned.

“Of course not,” I answered finally. “That instrument meant a lot to her. Her parents worked hard to save up…and it had sentimental value. Look, what are you getting at? She needs a new violin, so I’ll buy her a new violin.”

“She’s a Juilliard trained virtuoso?” Ava remarked. “You can’t just walk into a music store and pick some factory thing off the wall.”

“She doesn’t audition anymore,” I said, lowering my voice. “And that’s her business. I’m done discussing it behind her back.”

“Mmhmm,” Ava said. “You want to know what I think?”

“I can’t wait.”

“I think that girl has poured her entire life into yours, getting you out of that townhouse. She’s devoted to you. And what have you done for her?”

“Are you kidding me? You spend one afternoon with us, and you’ve got us all figured out?” I shook my head. “She’s the one good thing that’s happened to me since the accident. I’d do anything for her. Anything.”

“That’s beautiful,” Ava said, without sarcasm. “She is beautiful. And kind, and not a PX girl. And if she’s as talented as you say, then she needs to be playing and you know why. The adrenaline is not just limited to jumping off cliffs or giving the finger to bomb threats. My best friend is an actor in the West End, and she talks about it all the time. The rush. Performing is where performers feel alive.”