A Reckless Note (Brilliance Trilogy #1) - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,74
a fuck you to him that I ended up liking.”
There is a lot of baggage in everything he just told me, the kind I’m certain this man doesn’t share, but he told me. He told me and I sense he doesn’t want to go deeper. No one understands the point of “enough for now” than me, so I focus on the lighter side of things. I dare to flirt, and I’m not someone who exactly masters that skill, but this is Kace. I’m different with Kace. “I like them, too. They’re sexy like you are when playing your violin.”
His hand covers mine, his eyes warm again, attentive. “I’m glad you think so.” And then he surprises me by giving me more, perhaps because I didn’t try to take it. “My father didn’t agree.”
“Well, if he thought you were sexy, that would be creepy.”
He laughs. “Yes. I suppose that is exactly right.”
“How did your father react?”
“He threatened to disinherit me, but I was his only heir. That wasn’t going to happen.”
“Even after you became such a powerhouse all on your own? Surely he came around.”
“Never.”
“What about your mother?”
“She supported me, but I believe she was afraid my father would leave her if she traveled with me. She let me know how proud she was when she could. I didn’t like how she handled things, but in truth, she’s the reason I played at all. She put a violin in my hand and then convinced my father it would create discipline I’d use in business.”
“You said your father saw money as power. Did the money finally win him over?”
“Yeah. When he tried to pull me from tour and I threatened to use that money to petition for emancipation.”
“Oh my God. What did he do?”
“He backed off. Better a rock star son with money than a rock star son who disowns you. It would have embarrassed him far more than my violin and I knew that because my mother told me it would. I was the misfit who inherited his empire. I’m sure that bothers him even from the grave.”
“Do you now own part of an NBA team?”
“I kept it for a while, just to prove to my father that I, a man with a violin, was just as capable as him. Which was silly. He’s dead. I’m a football and violin guy. A year in, I sold it and pocketed the money.”
“And the rest of his business?”
“Real estate is a good investment. I still own that part of his business. I have a CEO who runs the show with my input.”
“I just—you’ve written lots of hit songs. And I know that because Sara told me and I gathered as much from Nix, too. Surely your father saw that.”
“I never told him. He never asked. He had no idea. He didn’t know when I won a Grammy. He didn’t know when my first song hit number one. All he saw was the violin. Which reminds me. Speaking of my violin.” He unbuckles himself and stands, reaching to an overhead bin and removing his violin case before motioning me to the couch and table across from us. “You’re supposed to tell me if this is real.”
The ride is calm, no bump in sight, and I find I’ve forgotten the flight completely. There is just this man and that violin, a piece of my history that was both beautiful and destructive. With my heart racing, I unbuckle and move across the aisle. I sit down next to Kace and watch as he opens the case, displaying the shiny wood of a stunning instrument. My mind flashes back to the three Stradivarius violins my father owned and kept sealed in a vaulted room underground. I’ve often wondered if they could still be there. I wonder now if my brother went after them.
I studied those instruments in detail with my father and brother. I was young, but I listened to every word our father said about their history, their creation, even before his death when I studied his writings quite obsessively.
“This,” Kace says, motioning to the violin, “is my favorite instrument I’ve ever played by far, and I’ve played hundreds of violins.” He glances over at me. “You want to hold it?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I do not want to risk hurting it.”
“You aren’t going to hurt it.”
“I just want to look,” I say. “Can I see the flashlight on your phone? Mine is in my purse.”