‘I shut it off.’ Alaina buried her head in her pillow.
‘You what?’ Carly stuck her head out from the bathroom door as the shower warmed up.
‘I shut it off. Who wants to get up at seven a.m.?’
Note to self: next time, lock your phone. ‘I do. That’s when I play my long tones.’ Even now she worried about how she’d reach high A without warming up.
Alaina held up a finger, the nail bright red. ‘Precisely why I shut it off.’
Carly couldn’t decide whether to jump in the shower or strangle the diva. Ultimately, clean hair was better than revenge. She tore off her pajamas and chose the shower.
Twenty minutes later, they approached the bus dragging Alaina’s garment bag with the two matching dresses behind them. Orchestra members filled the seats. Every face stared at them from the windows as they approached. Some of them already wore their concert black, making Carly feel as though such a slouch in her Women Reeds t-shirt and skinny jeans.
‘What happened to your limo?’ Shame-faced and frazzled—which seemed to be the theme of this trip—Carly shielded her eyes from the bus. She hoped Michelangelo was not there to witness this next great embarrassing moment in her life.
‘I fired him.’ Alaina strutted in her fuchsia heels as thought she was walking the runway in her metallic miniskirt and halter top. She gestured toward the bus. ‘See, I told you they’d wait for us.’
The doors to the bus unfolded.
Please, please, please let it be someone other than Michelangelo.
The Italian hottie jumped down the last two steps and smiled like he’d won a game. ‘There you two are. We were starting to worry.’
Carly considered blaming Alaina, but thought better of it. He already thought she was a bitch. Better not make that a mega bitch.
‘I’m sorry. We missed the alarm.’ Carly handed him the garment bag.
He offered his hand to her, and Alaina stepped between them and took it instead. ‘Thank you.’
‘Mio Dio, signorina.’ Michelangelo stepped back as if she’d attacked him. But, he recovered his charm quickly. ‘You must be eager to start your tour?’
‘Si.’ Alaina grinned. ‘But not without an escort.’
‘I can take care of that.’ Michelangelo escorted her up the steps.
Carly shook her head and followed behind them. Had she misinterpreted everything that had happened yesterday? Or was he just a big flirt?
As Alaina reached the top of the stairs, she waved to everyone on the bus as thought she was the Queen of England. Michelangelo glanced at Carly and winked.
Maybe he had thought of her after all. She noticed the front seat next to him wasn’t taken. Had he saved it for her?
‘I must ride in the front of the bus.’ Alaina placed her hand over her heart. ‘I suffer from severe motion sickness.’
Michelangelo paused, scanning the seats. His face tightened like a man who’d lost a hand of cards. ‘Of course.’
He turned to Carly. ‘My apologies, Ms. Davis. There is one seat open in the back if that will suit you.’
Severe disappointment flustered Carly and she pushed it back. Why the hell do I care if she sits next to the tour guide?
She pulled herself together as Ms. Maxhammer gave her a purposeful stare. Battling Alaina over a man wasn’t worth her principal oboe seat. Think of all the e-mails you’ll get to answer without him.
‘Yes, that’s fine.’ Carly shuffled past them and walked down the aisle. Her gaze settled on the last empty seat, which was slam bam next to horny Al. He wore an old Bruins t-shirt with holes in the front. A Red Sox cap half-covered his oily hair.
He tapped the seat and grinned. ‘Hey, babe. Looks like you’re sitting with me.’
Carly resisted the urge to gag. Any man entertained by emptying his spit valve ranked a tad below the maturity line in her book. She tried anything to get away. ‘Where’s your trombone?’
He shrugged and pouted. ‘They made me put her under the bus for safekeeping.’
‘Bummer.’ For both of them.
He smirked. ‘I’d say there’s a silver lining.’
She settled into her seat and whipped out her phone. Hopefully, Al would take the hint and leave her alone.
The bus started to move, and he turned to her. ‘Sleep well last night?’ The faint smell of cheap alcohol wafted from his lips.
Carly coughed a little in her throat. His question was innocent enough, but coming from him, it sounded sleazy—like he pictured her sleeping in the nude. She finished her e-mail before replying with the least-sexy answer possible. ‘Like a brick.’
His gaze held expectation, but she wasn’t going to ask about his nighttime escapades. Instead, she returned to her e-mails.
Al adjusted his baseball cap and leaned toward the window as though he got the picture.
Maybe he isn’t so dense after all.
Carly had a few moments of pure e-mail answering bliss before her skin prickled on the back of her neck. The distinct feeling someone was watching her came over her. She glanced over to Al. He’d propped his head against the window and was sleeping like an oversized baby on Nyquil. Probably too much late-night drinking with his brass buddies.
Carly rolled her eyes. If all men were so simple-minded and easily entertained, she’d have no problem focusing on her career for the rest of her life. Never mind the distraction of dating and the sticky business of falling in love. She placed her hand on her oboe case. You and me, girl. Foreva.
The prickling sensation returned, and Carly casually glanced around the bus, trying not to weird anyone out. What did her mom used to say? Something about if your necklace chain had turned around, someone was thinking about you. She touched the rhinestone G clef in the nape of her neck. The clasp had fallen to the front. Interesting.
Pretending to stretch her arms, Carly scanned the bus behind her. A few of the older violinists slept, the percussionist snapped pictures with his phone, and Melody and Wolf whispered in each other’s ears.
How sweet. She loved her friend but seriously, if she’d had time for breakfast, she’d be hurling it up. Romance was not for her.
Carly moved to turn back around, but Melody caught her gaze. Her friend widened her eyes in a WTF look and pointed to the front of the bus behind the seat in front of her, where no one else could see.
So she caught the culprit, eh? Carly turned around slowly, not wanting to give herself away. Alaina was chatting like an energizer bunny at the front of the bus. But Michelangelo wasn’t listening. Instead, he’d positioned his elbow over the seat, allowing him to turn in Carly’s direction. As their eyes met, he gave her another sultry wink.
Carly dropped her gaze immediately, her cheeks turning into tomatoes. Two winks in one day? Who did he think she was? His secret cohort?
Behind her, Melody giggled. Carly guessed it wasn’t something Wolf had said.
*****
Michelangelo prayed for the bus ride to end soon. Carly’s sassy banter and reluctance to open up had intrigued him, but this opera diva’s ongoing lecture about herself was as boring as a documentary on drainage pipes. Sure, Alaina Amaldi was magnificently pretty, but