ENCORE PERFORMANCE (THE MATCHMAKER TRILOGY) (21 page)

Sophia walked to the back of the school, where she
would get Thomas a glass of water, but also where she
could speak with her husband. David stood on a ladder,
hanging the last of the shelves Carissa had asked him to put
up while she was gone.

“Of sorts.” She filled the glass and turned to him with
a smile. “He came back,” she whispered.
“Who? The delivery man?”
“No.” She laughed. “Thomas.”
David shot down the ladder, his brows furrowed and
his lips pursed. Sophia reached for his arm and he stopped.
“If you need me—”
“I know.” She smiled to let him know she understood
his protective instincts, then started back toward the
parents’ area. David fell back and waited.
“Here,” she said, handing Thomas the glass. His hand
shook as he took it and she tucked her lips between her
teeth to keep her excitement from surfacing.
Thomas sipped at the water and then let out a breath.
“Thank you.”
“Now, do you want to tell me where you’ve been?”
She raised her eyebrows and waited for his answer.
“I went home.”
“To your family?” Her voice now shook and she sat
down next to him and inched her chair closer to him. “You
saw your family?”
He took another sip of water. “I’ve been staying with
my mother for the past few days. Her and her husband and
their daughter.”
“You have a sister?” Her tone softened and she
reached for his hand.
Thomas nodded. “She’s the spitting image of Sarah.
Her name is Madison.”
“Oh, Thomas.” She covered her mouth to stop the sob
that tightened in her chest and moved up through her throat.
It threatened to burst out when she thought of him having a
family. His family.
“Anyway, I thought if my mother could piece her life
back together, so could I.” He reached into his pocket and
pulled out a small black box. He handed it to Sophia. “My
mother gave me this to give to Carissa. I want to be more
than just a teacher in her school, Sophia. I want to put my
life back together and I want her to be part of it.”
She opened it and the tears she’d held back released.
“Are you asking my wife to marry you?” David stood
just beyond them watching.
“Oh, no sir.” Thomas shot out of his seat.
“I’m kidding, Thomas.” He stood next to his wife and
looked down at the antique setting in her hand. “What is
this?”
“It was my grandmother’s wedding set. I’d like to give
it to Carissa and ask her to marry me.”
David ran his tongue over his teeth and studied
Thomas. He nodded. “And you want my blessing?”
“It sure would make things smoother if I had it. I’m
not sure I’ll even have Carissa’s blessing.”
“I’m not sure you will either.”
“David.” Sophia looked up at him then back to
Thomas. “I’ve known you for a long time, Thomas. I think
Carissa would be lucky to have you.”
“Thank you.” He shifted his eyes to David. “Would it
be okay if I asked your daughter to marry me?”
“You planned to do that anyway, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, I did, but . . .”
“Well, when you do, you can tell her you have my
blessing.”
“Well, I guess there is only one more person to ask.”
Sophia exchanged a concerned look with David, well
aware that Thomas knew something was wrong.
Thomas cleared his throat. “Where is Carissa?”

Carissa stood before the mirror in her dressing room.
The dress Pablo had chosen for her was exquisite. She’d
never looked so beautiful. He’d sent her roses. Beautiful,
long-stemmed, red buds that felt like silk under her
fingertips as she lifted one to her nose to smell its
fragrance. He’d made it clear he wouldn’t see her and the
other members of the ensemble until moments before they
stood together to perform.

When the door opened, she looked up to see Pierre
slowly make his way in the room, his eyes shielded by dark
glasses, his hands extended to help lead him to her.

Carissa stood and moved to him. His extended hands
were invitation for her to take them so he could embrace
her, and he pulled her into his arms.

“He will never tell you, so I thought I would. He
couldn’t have been more pleased that you came with him.
He really wanted Sophia, but he thinks you are as talented,
if not more so,” he added, moving back from her as though
to study her face. “But I will deny that if you repeat it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, smiling at her new
friend.
The door opened again, and to her surprise, Sophia
stuck her head around the door. Pride swelled in Carissa’s
chest. Her mother had refused the invitation to play the
venue she’d lost, choosing her role as a wife and mother
over restarting her career, but she’d come to share it with
her.
“Mom!” She let go of Pierre’s hands and ran to her
mother’s waiting arms. “You’re here.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. After all you
took my place,” she teased.
“Is that my beauty?” Pierre turned and waited for
Sophia to come to him.
“Pierre, oh Pierre.” She went to him, his arms open to
her. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Enough to have visited me in the past eight years?” he
asked with a straight face.
Sophia sighed and bowed her head.
“I’m kidding, my beauty. You got the man you loved,
the most talented daughter, and had a baby waiting for you
when you got home. Oh, Sophia, what a wonderful life
you’ve been given.”
“It has been wonderful. It has.” She gave Carissa a
grand smile then she turned her attention back to Pierre.
“What about you? Pablo told me you’d been in an accident.
I didn’t know about it. I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head. “Oh, he blames . . . well, it’s not
important. Truth is we’d had too many, the streets were
slick, and the press was after us. I hate that press. We were
trying to outrun them. It wasn’t his fault. Pablo did what he
could to shift the attention of the press away from us. I’m
not surprised you didn’t hear.”
“Your sight?”
“It’s going. It’s going quickly, but my ears are fine.
And I hear music, I don’t see it.”
Sophia kissed him on the cheek. “You are still
amazing. Do you know that?”
“Of course I do.” He laughed.
“Well I’d better get to my seat,” she said, turning back
toward Carissa.
Carissa took her mother’s hands in hers. “Dad?”
“He’s here and so is Hope. Pablo pulled some strings,”
she admitted.
“I’m so happy he did. This is the best surprise ever.”
She kissed her mother’s cheeks. “I’m going to do my best.
This is so much more than first chair. This really should be
you.”
“No, it was meant to be for you.” She touched
Carissa’s face. “We’ll meet you back at the hotel when
you’re done. I’m sure the evening will only get better.” She
kissed her daughter and left the room.
Pierre excused himself and Carissa sat alone.
She held her cello between her legs, leaning into the
instrument, holding it against her like a child needing to be
comforted. She ran her fingers over the strings running the
first song through her mind. When the door opened again,
Pablo walked through in his black tuxedo.
She rose to him, surprised that he would have stepped
into her room after having made it perfectly clear he would
not see his ensemble.
She could see why the world loved him. Aside from
his beautiful voice he was, simply, one of the most
gorgeous men to walk the planet. His dark, mysterious
looks, his deep chocolate eyes, and the build of a god. He
was pure pleasure on the eyes.
“Bella, are you ready to make history.”
“I’m sick,” she said with a hand on her stomach, and
that caused him to laugh.
“Your mother threw up on my shoes once. You will
not.”
“No, I will not.” She stood and held the neck of the
instrument. “Thank you for brining my family.”
“My pleasure.” He took her hand and kissed it.
“Sophia had to be here even if she didn’t play.”
“I really appreciate it.”
“They will come for your cello in a moment. You will
meet me down the hall with the rest in five minutes,” he
instructed, and she nodded.
Pablo kissed each of her cheeks. “You’ve been quite
an asset to my ensemble. I would like you to think about
giving up your school and staying in Rome.”
“Pablo, I don’t know what to say. I—”
“You say nothing. You think about it.” He turned and
strode out of the room.
A few moments later, a young man came for her cello,
to set it on stage, and she met the ensemble down the hall
as instructed. Pierre gathered with them while Pablo
finished his preparations.
“As soon as this evening is over we will be escorted by
car to the hotel. You will change and have one hour before
Pablo expects you for celebration drinks.”
They all nodded as the instructions were given. There
wasn’t a member of the ensemble that didn’t fully
understand the impact of what was about to happen.
Carissa stood at the edge of the stage with the others.
The pianist wiggled his fingers, warming them up. The
violinist’s head swayed back and forth, her eyes closed, and
Carissa knew she heard music in her mind. The flutist fixed
his shirt cuffs.
She knew they all had their own ways of preparing for
their performance. She, however, couldn’t move past the
sounds around her.
The murmur of the crowd, speaking in Italian,
resonated through the theater. Not one voice more
dominant than the other. The many conversations blended
together in their own symphony.
A man in red robes passed by them and out to the
stage. She heard his shoes click on the stage and the
audience quieted down.
The sickness in her stomach rose into her throat and
she closed her eyes and breathed deeply as the man onstage
welcomed the audience and introduced the pope.
Carissa’s eyes shot open and the quick glances
between the members of the ensemble made her realize that
each of them was as panicked as she was. The pope had
summonsed them to play for him and he was there to listen.
The lights went down and the ensemble took their
positions on the stage. The lighting cued and Carissa raised
her bow. Pablo’s voice rang through the hall and history
began.
Only one thing was missing from the most momentous
night of her life, and that was Thomas.
The raw nerves that had made her sick drove her
through the performance, but the silent breaking of her
heart was sure to drive her mad.

The concert was over. Carissa sat in the limousine with
the others and after a few seconds’ hubbub they all fell
silent. Every eye was wide. Every mouth wore a smile. The
air was full of electricity. But though they all felt the music,
there were no words that could be shared among those who
didn’t speak the same language.

They parted ways in the hotel, going to their rooms to
prepare for the upcoming celebration. One hour wasn’t
quite enough time to get the excitement out of Carissa’s
body. Before she changed her dress she’d need to scream
into a pillow. Energy was pulsing through her. She’d
played the Vatican. She’d met the pope. She’d lived out her
mother’s dream.

Juggling the roses that Pablo had given her, she slid the
key to her door into the reader then pushed it open. She
stopped in the doorway and the giddy smile that had been
on her lips vanished. Her eyes opened wide when she
noticed the lights were on and dimmed. Champagne chilled
in a bucket on the table. Two flutes sat near the bucket, a
vase of roses sat on the end table by the sofa. As the door
closed behind her, she noticed the coat.

Her breath whooshed out of her lungs. She felt the
blood drain from her face and her head spun.
“You were amazing tonight.” His voice carried
through the suite.
Carissa turned to see him observing her from the
doorway to the bedroom.
“You were there?”
“It was the biggest venue any of us could have
dreamed about. You fulfilled that dream, Carissa. You were
amazing.” He smiled as he walked cautiously toward her.
Emotions ran through her so quickly she wasn’t sure
which she was supposed to express.
He was here. He was in Rome. He was in her room
with champagne and roses. He’d been at the Vatican. He’d
come to hear her play.
He’d left her.
It seemed that anger won over joy. Her jaw tightened
and her lips pursed.
“Why are you here?” She snapped out the question and
watched as his eyes widened.
“I needed to talk to you.”
“
Now?
You need me
now
?” She turned and set the
roses Pablo had given her on the large mahogany table
behind her. “You should go.”
“You should hear me out.”
She didn’t speak. She was too stunned to speak.
He moved to the sofa and gestured with his hand for
her to join him.
“Why don’t you sit down?”
“Why don’t you go to hell, Thomas?”
“Well, I see this is going to be an interesting evening.”
He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Fine,” he said as he
walked to the champagne and opened it. He poured her
flute full and handed it to her, and then filled the other for
himself.
“If this was supposed to be a celebration . . .”
“Well, let’s just say we might as well get drunk first.”
He lifted the flute to his lips, but she shot her hand up
between them and pulled his from his lips. It tore at her to
watch him even dare to drink.
“Don’t. Don’t drink it.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t drink.” She kept her voice soft. “There is
no need for you to ruin your sobriety over my success.” She
lowered her voice further. “Or my stubbornness.”
He smiled. “Well, then. Why don’t you sit and sip
champagne and I’ll do the talking I wanted to do.”
Carissa nodded, feeling a heavy burden in her chest.
She’d never have been able to live with herself had she
thought Thomas had began drinking again because of her.
She took his flute in her other hand and sat down on the
cold leather sofa.
With both hands filled with glasses, she stared up at
him as he paced before her with his hands in the pockets of
his slacks. She noticed that he again reminded her of
Jimmy Stewart as he rubbed his chin and then ran his
fingers through his hair, which once again was too long,
and absolutely stunning on him, she thought.
“I went home.”
“Home?”
“Yeah. When I left I went back to my mother’s house
and stayed for a few days.” His eyes lifted to hers and she
smiled.
“That’s wonderful.” Her voice was even. The smile
was genuine. She wasn’t angry at that very moment. She
was happy for him.
“It was great. I spent time with my sister. We played
chess, had hot chocolate, and I told her stories of Sarah
when she asked me to.”
“Oh, Thomas . . .”
“I slept in my bed,” he added. “She kept my bed and
all my things. It was truly like going home. Only this time I
felt safe. Really safe.” He shifted his eyes to her. “Like I do
when I sleep in your arms.”
Carissa set the flutes down on the table. Then she
picked hers back up. She drank down the bubbling liquid
inside and felt it rush to her head.
He was watching her when she looked back up at him.
His eyes searched her face.
“I’m not my father, Carissa.” The words were a bold
statement and Carissa could only stare at him, taking in
what he said. “I’ve lived a great life. I’ve made a lot of
mistakes, but they don’t have to dictate what comes next.”
“No, they don’t,” she agreed. She set down her flute
and stood. “Thomas, you are a wonderful man. You are
talented and caring. I never would have told you I love you
if I didn’t think so.”
He walked around the coffee table and gathered her
hands in his.
“They want us to come out for Thanksgiving. They’d
like to meet you and get to know you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“They want to get to know the woman I love.” His
eyes settled into hers. Her mouth dropped open and she
gasped. “Yes, Carissa, I’m saying I love you.”
“Thomas . . .”
“Do you want me to say it again? I love you.”
Her mouth opened even wider as her eyebrows drew
together.
“I’ll say it again. I love you, Carissa Kendal. I love
you. I love you. I love you.”
“Oh, God!” Tears were threatening to surface. Her lip
began to quiver, and she bit it and just stared at him.
“I love you. I want you to be my wife and have at least
four kids with me.”
“Really?”
“Are you trying to make this harder for me?” He
laughed.
The knock at the door halted her answer. She kept her
eyes focused on him as she answered. Her father stood
beyond the threshold.
“Well, is my baby girl engaged?” David gathered her
in his arms and kissed her cheeks.
“Not yet,” Thomas answered. “She doesn’t seem to be
able to give me an answer.”
“You knew?” Carissa looked up at David and Sophia,
who followed with Hope right alongside her.
“Of course I knew.” David stiffened his shoulders and
gave a nod in Thomas’s direction. “He’s a gentleman. He
asked me first.”
“You asked my father for his blessing?” She turned
toward Thomas, her wide-eyed stare met his smiling eyes,
as he nodded.
“Yes. And he gave it to me.”
“What is all of this?” Pablo’s voice bound from behind
them. “Where is my star?” He pushed his way past
Carissa’s family and walked to her. He gathered her in his
arms and kissed her on the lips. “I came first to you. I
wanted to tell you how wonderful you were.”
Carissa’s hands rested on his arms and she smiled as
Pierre walked in behind him.
“Pablo, thank you. It was a wonderful and . . .” Her
words stopped when Pablo lifted his head, his focus shifted
over her shoulder.
“What the hell is he doing here?” He let go of Carissa,
pushing her to the side, and rushed across the room toward
Thomas, his eyes full of fury and his step quick and swift.
Thomas stepped back as Pablo knocked over a chair,
barreling his way toward him.
His hand came up in a fist. Carissa watched in horror
as Pablo swung. She screamed Thomas’s name and as
Thomas ducked the first punch and gave Pablo a shove.
Pablo’s left hand hooked in front of him and connected
with Thomas’s jaw.
Thomas flew into the wall and down to the floor. Pablo
jumped on top of him and drove his fist into Thomas’s face
again and again until she and David could pull him back.
“What is wrong with you?” she screamed at Pablo as
she knelt down next to the man she loved.
Pierre moved next to David, who held Pablo at bay.
Pablo shook off David’s hold.
“God dammit! What is that son of a bitch doing here? I
told you never to come back!”
Pierre touched his arm. “Stop. Pablo, stop.”
“He almost kills you and you want me to stop?” His
voice was filled with fury. “You bastard! I’m going to kill
you.”
“Get out!” Carissa stood and glared at Pablo.
“You’re involved with
him?
” Pablo pushed a wild lock
of hair from his eyes. “
This
is the man you love?”
“Yes. This is the man I love and I’m going to marry.”
She heard Thomas moan behind her and she returned to his
side. She lifted his head into her arms. His cheek and lip
were split and bleeding. Already his eye was swelling shut
and blood trickled down his face. “God, Thomas. Are you
all right?”
He only nodded.
Pierre shouted at Pablo, “You are such an idiot! Why
must you do things like this? You ruined his career. Isn’t
that enough?”
“Enough for almost losing you?”
“It wasn’t his fault,” he said as though he were
repeating it for the millionth time.
“He drove that car right into a barrier. Look at you.
You can’t see. You walk with a limp. You were almost
dead.”
“I’m not dead. I’m here. I hear what you are saying. I
feel your anger. But you have to believe me if you love
me.” Pierre’s words cracked with tears.
Thomas tried to sit up. “Pierre, don’t.”
“No. If he wants to ruin lives over it, then he will ruin
mine. Thomas was only helping me.”
“Helping? Driving you while he was drunk?”
“Yes.” Pierre took a deep breath. “I was with another
man.”
The room fell silent. Pablo stared at Pierre in disbelief.
He scrubbed his hands over his face. Pierre moved closer to
him, his hands reached out to feel for him.
“It was a mistake. I met up with him. We had a few
drinks.” He threw his hands in the air. “We had a lot of
drinks. Thomas happened to be there.
And
he happened to
have had too many already before he spotted me. He took
me aside and promised he wouldn’t say anything, but he
thought we should go.”
“Pierre, you don’t have to—”
Pierre held up a hand to Thomas to stop him.
“The man I was meeting thought I was hooking up
with Thomas. He threatened us. We got in my car and
started out. Thomas was in better shape than I was. I didn’t
realize he was drunk. Then the press was coming after us.
The guy was setting me up to get to you, to expose you. We
were outrunning them, the roads were slick, and he lost
control of the car.” He began to weep.
Thomas’s head fell back into Carissa’s arms. Tears fell
from her eyes and Thomas lifted his hand to brush them
from her cheeks.
Pablo stood silent. The room was still and all eyes
were on him as he turned toward Thomas.
“You covered for him? You took the fall so I wouldn’t
know he was cheating on me?”
Thomas shifted his head to look at Pierre. Pierre
nodded and Thomas swallowed hard.
“I did what I thought was right by my friend.”
“I killed your career.” Pablo’s voice shook as he spoke.
Thomas’s jaw hardened. He blinked once.
Pablo’s shoulders bowed. “You have nothing.”
“I have Carissa. She’s all I need.” Carissa took his
hand and gave it a squeeze.
Pablo’s eyes tightened. He lifted his chin, turning
toward Pierre. “You are not the man I thought you were.”
“I’ve lived my life walking two steps behind you. One
night I decided to walk on my own and look where it got
me.”
“One night? You expect me to believe that you’ve
done this only once?”
Pierre lifted his hand toward Pablo and reached until
he touched him. “I expect you to believe that I made an
error in judgment only once. I expect that you remember
that Thomas was there, drunk perhaps, yet levelheaded
enough to steer me out of the arms of a man only wishing
to do us both harm. And,” he continued, “I expect you to,
yes, believe that it was a onetime thing. I have never . . .”
His words broke off as Sophia walked to him, placing her
hands on his arms.
Carissa watched as Pablo stood and surveyed the room.
He looked at Thomas lying in her arms. She reached for a
tissue on the end table and wiped a trickle of red from his
cheek that Pablo had bloodied in his anger.
Pablo sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face.
“I pushed Pierre to the back in order to remain in the
spotlight. I used you, Sophia, to keep my secrets,” he said,
turning to her then back toward Thomas. “And I worked
very hard to ruin your career and leave you with nothing.”
He walked toward Thomas and Carissa. She winced as
he knelt down next to them.
Pablo focused his eyes on them. “Forgiveness is a hard
thing to ask for,” he said softly.
“Yes, and it’s a hard thing to give.” Thomas moved
from Carissa’s protective arms and sat up as straight as he
could. “But in the past few weeks I’ve learned a lot about
forgiving.”
Pablo gently placed a hand on each of their shoulders.
“I’m asking for your forgiveness now.”
“And I forgive you.” Thomas tried to smile, but
winced in pain. He leaned back in Carissa’s arm and she
dabbed his lip with the tissue then kissed the top of his
head.
She wanted everyone to leave so she could take care of
him and love away his pains. All of his pains.
Pablo still knelt next to them. “Dear, God, look at what
I’ve done to you. You need a doctor.” Pablo reached for his
arm to help him to his feet, but Thomas shook his head.
“I have Carissa. She’ll take good care of me.”
Carissa laid a kiss on his forehead. “I promise.”
“I heard you tell this lunatic you were going to marry
me.”
She laughed through the tears. “You heard that?”
“Yeah. I thought I should confirm it.”
Carissa nodded. “Mr. Thomas Samuel, I’d love to be
your wife.”