Private Melody

“Yes, sir.” The young man scribbled the order furiously. “Right away, sir.”

“I feel like such an idiot.” Kianti shook her head and watched the server sprint away. “Everyone knows who you are and I didn’t have a clue.”

“And you have no idea how pleased I am to hear that.” He cast a disinterested glance across his shoulder and smirked. “Besides, they school the staff on the so-called ‘big wigs.’ Better tips, you know?” He winked.

When she threw her head back to laugh, Therin decided he was in need of conversation to keep the moment from growing too charged. “So why do you consider yourself other than normal?” he asked.

“Well, prodigies aren’t exactly the norm, are they?” Kianti rested her chin to her palm.

He nodded, realizing her point. “Hard life?”

“I suppose.” She studied the pattern embroidered into the white tablecloth. “But what are you gonna do? It’s the only life I’ve ever known—didn’t know any better until I had something to compare it to.” She fixed him with a whimsical look. “Kids playing in the street while I’m in the house playing Bach.”

Laughter rose heartily then.

“So may I question your ‘only son’ remark?” she probed once the waiter had brought out Therin’s juice and topped off her decaf.

“Mmm.” He winced while taking a sip of the drink. “Was hoping you hadn’t caught that.”

“Come on, fess up.” She waved her hands in a beckoning manner. “It’s only fair. I rarely share my child prodigy stories.” Her gaze softened as she studied the pensive look on his very handsome face. “Did you regret not having brothers or sisters?”

“Maybe, but it’s the only life I’ve known—nothing to compare it to, as you said.”

“Touché.” Kianti sent him a mock salute.

Food arrived and soon the two were dining on over-easy eggs, steak strips and toast.

“Guess that’s why I took up the interests I have,” Therin said around a bite of steak.

Kianti nodded. “Politics.”

He smiled. “Education.”

She tilted her head at a cocky angle. “Now you’ve really got me interested. Talk, man!”

They dived into the incredible breakfast of fruit, seasoned browns and scrambled eggs. Seated next to an enviable view in a peaceful dining room they chatted like longtime acquaintances.

“Growing up…privy to dedicated teachers and fine schools made me naively think that was the norm,” he shared. “Then I realized that too many parents, and kids, for that matter, wouldn’t put dedicated teachers and fine schools together in the same book. It made me sick to my stomach.” He held his fork poised over the plate and glared out at the view. “No child should be denied a fine education, and no parent should feel it’s beyond their power to claim it for their child.”

Silently, Kianti marveled how there could be any education woes with a man like the one seated across from her as its champion.

Therin noticed her set expression and closed his eyes in playful regret. “Sorry about that.” He tapped the tip of the fork to the cleft in his chin. “I tend to get carried away.” His voice lowered an octave on the last word.

“That’s not it.” She waved off the excuse. “You’re very persuasive in your arguments. My guess is that you’re a fundraiser’s dream.”

“Hmph.” Therin returned his attention to breakfast and didn’t appear to appreciate the assessment. “So I’ve been told,” he grumbled.

“Did I offend you?”

“No, Kianti.” He tapped his fingers next to her plate and waited for her eyes to meet his. “No. I’ve just got a lot of friends and…acquaintances who tell me the same thing. Many times they don’t mean to flatter me with it.”

“Well, that’s crazy. What could be more admirable than taking up such a cause?”

He smiled at the innocence he’d once been a victim of. “Kianti, everything pales next to the cause of raking in obscene amounts of cash for the next war.”

“Ah.” Enlightenment dawned and she nodded. “So is that why you gave up your ambassadorship? To devote more time to your cause?” she asked, following several moments of easy silence.

“One of many reasons,” was his only reply. His thoughts drifted toward his parents. His involvement—er—obsession over his cause had cut short that relationship far too soon. At least, he had always suspected that was the case.

Kianti caught his grimace again and decided to call a halt to the Q&A.

“Someone once told me that with power comes the ability to make change in addition to suggestion,” he eventually added somewhat prophetically.

“I’ve always thought of ambassadors and such as figureheads. Sorry,” she said demurely before sipping her coffee. She was pleased to hear him chuckle.

“You’re not too far off.” He helped himself to his last forkful of eggs. “As ambassador, I found that I could suggest ’til the cows came home, but affecting change—” he brushed the back of his hand along a sideburn “—affecting change eluded me until I left my post.”

“You left your post yet you remain in Vancouver? No desire to return home to the States?” A teasing element made her eyes sparkle.

Therin shrugged. “Canada’s not so far away. I’m in the States off and on. But I really like where I am—many diplomats aren’t so lucky.”

Kianti added a bit more cream to her coffee. “It would seem you could do more for the cause on this side of the border, that’s all.”

“Well, that’s what’s so impressive about the organization.” Therin settled in more comfortably. “We’re everywhere. EYES members and branch offices across the country go a long way to give the impression that we’re a strong united group. Everyone works equally hard which is another reason we’re so successful.” He thanked the waiter who’d returned with a fresh glass of juice. “Education’s my passion, and while I’ve been labeled as the face of EYES, I’m not its leader. That’s a joint responsibility.”

“It’s a different outlook.” Kianti studied his very handsome face with unmasked appreciation. “Guess the opposition doesn’t quite know how to take you all.”

Therin chuckled, causing his provocative gaze to narrow. “I think that’d be the case no matter who we were. Politics is a nasty game. You have to be…creative to get things done.”

“I see…creative here being akin to corrupt?” she guessed.

He raised his juice glass. “Smart lady.”

Kianti shrugged. “Things aren’t much different in the music world.”

“Yet you remain a faithful contributor?”

It was her turn to mull over a response. “I feel an obligation to continue. There’re a lot of talented kids out there but this is not an easy business to break into. Instrumental performing—piano, orchestra, symphonies—there’s a fair amount of politics at play and getting your shot isn’t always as easy as knowing how to play the hell out of an instrument.” She smiled but there was little humor in the gesture. “Many kids have the raw talent,” she extended her hand, “and nowhere to cultivate it. No proper pedigree, if you get my meaning.”

Therin did.

“Portions of my CD sales go into a fund. I and many of my colleagues hope to open a school based on talent, financed by the artists who’ve made it instead of the ones trying to make it.”

“Admirable.” Therin leaned back in his chair. His smirk held tinges of regret though. “I wish it were so easy to get a group of politicians on the same page like that.”

The two would have delved back into the rest of their meals to further conversation. The laughter and easy mood, however, was interrupted when Vaughn Burgess approached the table.

“Accept my apologies…please.” Momentarily taken aback by Therin’s breakfast partner, Vaughn was undoubtedly captivated.