Page 1 of The Matchmaker's Melody
CHAPTER1
THE MATCHMAKER
“It was all my idea!”Emma Massey squared her shoulders and gave a most satisfied smirk. She was pleased with herself, and didn’t mind who knew it. After all, things had ended up most satisfactorily. A ‘Happily Ever After’, if ever she had seen one.
Her companion seemed to have different ideas. He peered at her through sceptical eyes, his inclined head betraying his mild impatience.
“You don’t believe me, do you, Gordon?” she challenged him. “Even you can’t deny how perfect they are for each other. I knew they would get along, and you can see how right I was.”
Gordon Knight, for his part, was more prosaic. “You had a lucky guess, that’s all.” He paused for a moment and glanced across the room. “But I have to admit, they are a good couple.”
Emma followed Gordon’s gaze as it moved towards the side of the rehearsal hall, where Randall and Taylor stood among a circle of friends and well-wishers. Randall, the choir director, had announced his recent marriage at the start of this first rehearsal of the season, and the members of the Eglinton Echoes were all delighted for him. And even though she knew this—she had been at the wedding, after all—Emma had been unable to stifle a squeal of delight when he told his news, bringing smiles to all the faces around her.
It had been a perfect match, after all, and she had made it. Emma had known Randall since she’d joined the choir three years prior at Gordon’s suggestion, charming everyone with her beautiful, clear soprano voice and exquisite musicality. In no time, she had established herself as the head of the soprano section, and nurtured her fellow singers, guiding them to greater and greater musical heights.
Likewise, she had befriended Randall, pulling him into her circle of beautiful and influential people. He was an outgoing man—not handsome but with an appealing face—and with a strong drive to make everything he touched better. At forty-five, he still had the energy of youth, but the wisdom of maturity. His dedication and tireless work had brought the Eglinton Echoes to national attention. They were not Toronto’s best-known concert choir, the one that sang with the symphony, but they were just as good, and had enjoyed no small amount of acclaim and success under his baton.
Taylor, she had known for longer still. He had been her literature professor at university for one class six years ago, and every week of term, she had gone to his office hours to discuss the material, but also to listen to him talk. He was an author, and he was brilliant. He was also quite outrageous. He was never condescending or insulting, but his critical and hilarious observations about almost everything he saw often elicited gasps. She had never left his presence without tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks and a rather profound understanding of something new. When the term was over, Emma had continued to visit his office, and without the impediments of the student-teacher relationship, had invited him out to dinner.
“Er, if you’re looking for what I think you’re looking for, I’m not your man,” he had told her bluntly.
But Emma had rolled her eyes. For someone with her particular knack for reading people and seeing beyond the surface, there was no surprise here at all. After all, she’d never been wrong yet in understanding anyone. “Please, I’ve got better gaydar than that. You’re fun, and I want to be your friend. That’s all.” And he had agreed.
Her motives might not have been entirely pure. She was also, at the time, trying to establish herself as an influencer on YouTube, and being able to drop the name of one of Toronto’s literary darlings never hurt. But she did enjoy his company a great deal, and her offer of friendship was genuine.
Why, she always wondered, had it taken her so long to introduce Taylor to Randall? In retrospect, it was a no-brainer. And so, when the penny did drop, she had made her plans, invited both to a small gathering at the house where she lived with her parents at the time, and let nature take its course.
And now they were married. Squeeee! She’d known it all the time.
She brought her attention back to the present, and to Gordon, who was leaning against the grand piano near the centre of the rehearsal space. They had a few minutes left before the break was over, and they would form their ranks once more to peruse the rest of the music for their first concert.
She hadn’t really taken much time to talk with him until recently. After all, they’d known each other forever. She’d never thought of him much before, other than as her annoying babysitter, or a fun-crushing older brother, but now she found she sought his company, even for a few minutes’ chat. It didn’t hurt to look at him either. Something else she’d never thought of as a kid. She’d never bothered about deep brown eyes and well-muscled forearms back then. Strange that she noticed them now.
A bit of movement at the corner of her eye caught Emma’s attention. There, looking like she wanted to blend into the walls, was the new member of the soprano section. The poor girl had slipped into the room just a moment or two before rehearsal began, and Emma only had enough time to learn her name before the warm-up exercises had commenced. She had a very sweet voice, but seemed terrified. She clearly needed a friend.
Emma gave Gordon a ‘just a moment’, gesture, and went over to pull the young woman along with her, back to the piano.
“Gordon, have you met Halli? Did you play for her audition?” Gordon was a pianist, not a singer, but he had worked with many of the choir members.
He shook his head. “I did not have that pleasure. Nice to meet you, Halli.” He held out his hand to shake.
“Gordon has been the rehearsal pianist with this group for as long as I’ve been here,” Emma explained to the young woman. “He’s the one who suggested I join a few years ago. He’s an old family friend, and he’s a nice guy, even if he gets grumpy every now and then.”
“I do not get grumpy.” Gordon crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. Emma laughed.
“Nice to meet you,” Halli replied. Thankfully, she was more confident when she sang than when she spoke, because Emma could hardly hear her, she was so quiet. It was a lot of new people, she supposed. Emma would just have to take her in hand and guide her.
She contemplated this new singer. She was very young. “What do you do, when you’re not singing?” she asked, hoping to draw the girl out a bit.
“I’m a student at the university,” came the quiet reply. Then, realising she needed to say more, she added, “I’m just starting an engineering degree.” Her eyes, bright and wide, contrasted with her dark skin. She really was very pretty, cute as a button, as Emma’s mother would say, and she seemed sweet. And she did sing very well, Emma had to admit, with a lovely light coloratura. She would be a perfect protégée.
Gordon didn’t seem to follow Emma’s thoughts, and was talking to Halli about her classes. That made sense, since Gordon was an engineer, too. At least, that’s what he did for his main job—building condos or bridges or something necessary but dull. Playing piano with the choir was just his way of keeping his fingers supple. He really was a very good pianist, despite his boring career. Emma twisted her lips into a grimace at the thought of having to do something so ordinary to keep a roof over her head. It was so much better to be adventurous, like she was.
There were just a couple of minutes left of break, not enough time to introduce Halli to anyone else. That would be Emma’s first task next week. In the meantime, she herself would make the rounds. Everyone was always pleased to stop and chat with her for a moment or two. She left Gordon and Halli and swanned across the room to where Elise and Janet were chatting with a new tenor, whom they introduced as Carlos, new in town. Emma welcomed him to the choir. It was her unofficial job to make everyone feel at home, after all. Then, after similarly greeting a few other people, she caught Randall’s eye, and began to herd the singers back to their positions to start the second half of rehearsal.
Ah, yes, it was good to be back.
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