Page 52 of Saving Mr. Bell

“Apology accepted.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Nelson said with a grin. “Anyway, you never struck me as mean. More… lost.”

The house looked the same as it always had. Same latticed windows. Same ivy-covered exterior. Same carefully striped lawn, the gardener under strict instructions to never let the grass get beyond regulation length.

Nelson stood silently at my shoulder as I attempted to view it with the eyes of a stranger rather than someone who had grown up here. I knew I’d had a privileged upbringing, but studying the ten-bedroom house after spending the best part of two weeks in a one-bedroom log cabin made me view it slightly differently. Not that the log cabin hadn’t been luxurious. It had. I doubted there were many with a piano in situ.

“When was the last time you came home?” Nelson asked, his voice surprisingly soft for such a big man.

My brow furrowed as I thought about it. My schedule hadn’t allowed for more than a day or two off, and who wanted to spend that time on yet another flight?

I did a quick set of mental calculations, the answer surprising me. “A couple of years.”

Nelson nodded. “You don’t come home for Christmas?”

I shook my head. “Not for a while. I had a concert in Australia last Christmas Eve. It was too far to fly back, even if I wanted to. I spent Christmas day on the beach.”

“Sounds fun.”

Had it been? I couldn’t recall. Had I spoken to my father that day? If I had, it had been a quick five-minute phone call with neither of us saying much of consequence. It had been months since I’d last spoken to him, most of my news of him coming from Jade. And most of what she’d said had done nothing but build resentment. It made me wonder what she said to him about me.

Stood here though, looking at the house and remembering the good times—of which there’d been plenty—I had to wonder why I’d never questioned Jade’s version of events, why I’d never picked up the phone and spoken to him myself.

The door opened with me still standing on the drive. Not Jeremiah Bell. Jade. Of course, she’d gotten here before me. “Must have hopped on her broomstick,” I muttered. Nelson gave a snort of laughter, but didn’t comment.

“We have a lot to talk about,” she said. Her gaze drifted over me, a slight furrow appearing on her brow as she took in Arlo’s clothes. “If this is your new image, then we have even more to discuss than I thought.” I swept past her and into the house. “I thought we could meet in the dining room,” she called after me. “It has that large table.”

“No.”

“What?”

I turned to face her, walking backwards so I could still make progress toward where I wanted to go. “I said no. I must have said that word to you before?” Her expression as she trailed after me said I hadn’t.Interesting.Perhaps I’d relied too heavily on actions speaking louder than words, and finding my voice a lot earlier would have solved no end of problems.

“If not the dining room, then where?”

“My father’s office. I assume he’s here?”

“He is.” I spun round at the familiar deep rumbling voice to find myself face-to-face with the man himself. Jeremiah Bell was a stocky, dark-haired man with blue eyes and a neatly trimmed beard. Undoubtedly handsome, but about as unlike me as it was possible to be, most of my genes inherited from my mother. I might have doubted paternity if it wasn’t for us having the same shaped nose. Before I could speak, he gripped my shoulders and studied me, his brow creased in concentration. “Jade’s concerned you’re having a breakdown.”

I laughed. “Is that what she said?”

Jade sighed. “You’re behaving erratically, Rudolf. Even more erratically than usual.”

I shrugged my father’s grip off and stepped into his office. It was reassuringly familiar, all dark wood paneling and green velvet. The decor had never matched the rest of the house. It did, however, match the man who spent most of his time in here, which is how I’d known where to look for him.

Both my father and Jade followed me in, wearing matching expressions of concern. Where Nelson had gone, I had no idea. He probably figured he was better off out of it, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. I leaned against the corner of my father’s desk and crossed my arms. “First,” I stated, “I’m not having a breakdown. I have never had a breakdown. And while we’re on the subject of what I’m not. I’m not an alcoholic or a drug addict either. Or a sex addict.” My father’s eyebrows drew together at the last one and I almost laughed. Yeah, maybe I didn’t want to discuss sex with my father. “So, I don’t, nor have I ever, needed to go to rehab.”

Jade frowned. “I only want what’s best for you.”

“Not true,” I argued. “You want whatever keeps me on stage performing night after night so you can pick up your percentageand make yourself a nice little nest egg.” Before she could deny it, I turned to my father. “You were the one who hired Jade. Why her?”

“She had the best credentials out of the people I saw. She knew the most about the music business, and she had previous experience of working with classical musicians.”

“I’m very good at what I do,” Jade said, almost looking hurt by me questioning her ability to do her job.

“Maybe you are,” I conceded. “But you’re not the right person for me. I need someone who listens better and who is capable of feeling empathy.”

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