Page 79 of Not Another Love Song

“No. She liked to sing, but I think that was just fooling around.”

“And your dad…?”

“I never met him.” She gave him a weak smile. “My mom wouldn’t tell me much, but I did ask my grandpa about him later. He didn’t know if he had musical talent.”

Alex hummed.

She tilted her head at him. “Did you get the Times to leave out that bit about my family?”

Looking down at his hands, Alex said, “My agent had to call about your ‘Alex’ slip.” He lifted a teasing brow at her. “So, I also mentioned that the interviewer was too interested in your background—that it would weaken my position in the interview. He was more than happy to complain. It just didn’t seem like the kind of thing you were ready to have out in the open.”

She dipped her head. “Thank you.” While they were digging into deeper subjects, she finally asked him the question that had been gnawing at her for some time:

“Why did you leave Juilliard?”

He swiveled his chair to face her. “It didn’t suit me.”

“Can you explain why? I never went to college beyond a few GEs at City.”

He stared at her, his throat moving. “Applying for school is like applying for a box you want to live in for the rest of your life. That’s all university really is. It’s boxes.”

Gwen had to bite her tongue to keep from reminding him that his “box” was something people would kill to live in.

“When did you first hear the violin?” he asked.

She thought of the haunting melodies that would drift to her through the studio doors in Mabel’s shop. “Not till Mabel.”

“And you knew then that it called to you? That you needed it in your life?”

She nodded.

“I never had that,” he said. “I was two years old when my parents put a violin in my hand and taught me the scales. I was three the first time I played for a crowd. I’ve lived with the music and the applause my entire life, but I never chose it.”

Some faint memory dropped into her mind—a picture in Ava’s violin case of her playing the violin while she was pregnant. That was the first time Gwen learned that Ava had a son.

“Maybe it chose you?” Gwen offered.

Alex scratched his jaw, searching for words. “Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you have to do it for the rest of your life.”

It was a concept Gwen was unfamiliar with. Gwen was good at the violin, so she played the violin. Gwen was chipper and friendly, so they put her on the register at the food service job she had in high school. Gwen was tall and quick, so she joined the volleyball team for her physical education elective.

“So, what made you take up cello then?” she asked.

“I was encouraged to play an instrument that I chose, not one chosen for me.”

She frowned, remembering what Ava had told her. “By someone at Juilliard?”

“Yeah. He’s now my agent.”

She tilted her head at him. “And he was okay with you dropping out of the music program?”

“He encouraged it,” Alex said, twisting in his chair. “He knew I had more potential than what Juilliard could offer me. They were letting him go at the end of the semester—some administration bullshit—and he told me to come with him. We worked together on building the Roses.”

Something didn’t sit right with Gwen about that. Mabel and her grandfather had always pushed college on her, from the moment she started high school. It didn’t quite click in her mind that a college professor would advise someone to quit college, but she supposed it might happen.

“Do you ever regret dropping out?” she asked softly.

He dragged a hand over his neck. “No. I don’t like to dwell on that. I’m a different person now than I was at Juilliard.”

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