Page 50 of Persuaded

New York was exactly as Joshua remembered.

He hadn’t been to the city in years, mostly to avoid his father and brother, and he couldn’t say he’d missed it. Even high up in Ruth’s penthouse he could hear the endless hum of the city that never slept, nor rested, nor even took a breath.

Tonight, as always, his aunt was elegant and beautiful. She sparkled with the festive season as she welcomed guests to the select New Year’s Eve party—soiree, she called it—that she’d arranged for Joshua. Not that she’d admitted it was for him, but the fact that half the guests were powerful figures in the New York music scene was something of a giveaway. So was the grand piano in the corner.

Joshua, of course, was expected to perform.

He didn’t mind; it was a beautiful instrument and he wasn’t afraid of playing for these people. Besides, wasn’t that why he was here, to look for a new start? When he’d confessed as much to Ruth, she’d gone into overdrive trying to kick-start his career.

“I especially want you to meet Quinton Jones,” she’d told him as she’d fussed with his jacket earlier that evening. Joshua hadn’t dressed so fancy in years, but Ruth had insisted on taking him shopping for something “appropriate” for the evening. “Quinton is a music producer at Create Studios, and he’s always looking for talented session musicians. It’s a good place to start, Joshua.” She’d smiled, as if pleased. “He also happens to be a homosexual.”

“Ruth—”

Her smile dazzled. “I’m just mentioning it out of interest.”

She needn’t have bothered. As soon as Ruth brought Quinton over to meet him, it was obvious he was gay. Tall, slender and exquisitely dressed, he was entirely overt about his sexuality. “Joshua Newton,” he said in a crisp English accent, “Ruth’s been singing your praises forever and I can see that none of it has been exaggerated.” He held out a hand to shake and flashed a smile. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite—unless invited.”

Joshua flushed as he shook the man’s hand. “It’s good to meet you.”

“Oh, why do I doubt that?” Quinton smiled with genuine sympathy. “Poor you. Ruth is a terrible enthusiast when she has a new project. And you, darling, are it.”

His aunt patted the man’s arm. “I can’t help being enthusiastic. Joshua has been hiding away for far too long—I’m keen for the world to see his light.” With that she sailed away to greet her other guests and left them alone.

Subtle, Ruth was not.

Quinton took a sip of champagne. “Well, shall we get down to business or stick to the small talk for a little longer?”

“Business?” What had Ruthsaidto this man?

“Of the musical variety,” Quinton said with an amused twist of his lips. “You’re a musician, I understand.”

“Oh. Yes. Well, that is I play. I don’t earn my living playing. I’m a music teacher, actually—piano.” He grimaced. “I also need to get better at selling myself.”

“You do.” Quinton’s gaze swept over him, head to toe. “Do you compose?”

“I try—” He started again. “I mean, yes. I’m a genius, actually.”

Quinton barked a laugh. “That’s better. Will you play tonight?”

“Of course.” He leaned closer and confided, “I think that’s the point of the evening.”

“Certainly.” Another smile lit the man’s eyes. “Well then, let’s hear you.”

And just like that, Joshua found himself ushered to the piano. He chose something simple and popular to begin with—his own arrangement of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”—and started in quiet and without fanfare. He didn’t sing, but as the music built he felt the room hush as people turned to listen. He’d missed this, the thrill of performance, and he smiled and felt his chest swell with the music. If only Finn were here, it would be perfect...

The melancholy of the music harmonized with his mood and he poured himself into it, losing himself until he reached the third stanza and sensed someone come to stand at his shoulder. Glancing up he found Quinton watching with an enigmatic look in his eyes.

And then Quinton began to sing. He smiled and Joshua smiled too, adapting to the other man’s performance, letting him take the melody. He guessed that Quinton was testing him, but this had always come easily to Joshua so he wasn’t concerned. Besides, it wasn’t the first time he’d accompanied someone singing this; Finn used to sing with him, back in the day. His yearning only added to the poignancy and, as he played the last notes, letting the music drift into silence, a sweet melancholy threatened to overwhelm him.

But then the room burst into applause and Quinton’s hand touched his shoulder. “Lovely,” he said. “Ruth wasn’t exaggerating your talents, Mr. Newton.”

Joshua played a little Zeppelin after that and then finished with the Chopin to demonstrate his range and technical ability. Quinton watched with keen attention and a smile, while Aunt Ruth beamed in elegant triumph from the far side of the room. Joshua supposed he should consider the performance a success.

At midnight they watched the ball drop on TV but they could see the fireworks from Ruth’s window. Joshua stepped outsideonto the balcony, despite the cold, tugging on his new gloves—Finn’s gloves. The sound of the city rose up all around him, loud and brilliant with humanity. As the sky lit up and another year dawned he thought of Finn and Liz, of Sean and Tejana, of everyone back in New Milton. He missed them, missed the place, but knew he couldn’t go back. There was nothing there for him now and it was past time he got on with his life.

Behind him the door slid open and he glanced around to see Quinton Jones follow him outside. “Bloody freezing,” he said cheerfully, pulling out a packet of cigarettes. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not,” Joshua said, although he’d been enjoying the brief solitude. “You’ve got quite the voice. Did you ever sing professionally?”

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