Page 15 of The Matchmaker's Melody
* * *
It tookEmma six takes to get the video for her regular Monday morning YouTube spot recorded. Usually she managed in two, maybe with a couple of seconds here or there to patch a stumbled word or a ticklish nose. But now, for some reason, she couldn’t concentrate.
It had been a rather late evening last night at the gala. There had been dinner, schmoozing, making contacts, talking up both the company and her channel. Then came the dancing, and who knew that Gordon could move? Okay, so he wasn’t Fred Astaire, but he knew the basic steps and executed them quite creditably.
He’d looked good last night as well, as Emma had known he would. He might not be the most exciting person in creation, but he could be relied on to be more than presentable when needed.
But it wasn’t the late night and party that had Emma’s head full of wisps and distractions, but rather, Gordon himself. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the way he’d gazed at her had been… different. When he walked her to the door after the party, for a moment, she almost thought he was going to kiss her. Crazy! And even more crazy, if he’d tried, she’d have let him.
No. She shook her head to loosen the cobwebs. It was just her imagination. It had been a fairy-tale night, after all, full of excellent music, soft lighting, and, perhaps, one glass of wine too many. Gordon had waltzed her around the floor like a princess, his deep brown eyes gazing into her own, making her feel like the most important person in the world. It was only a part of being a good dance partner, after all, and he surely felt nothing more than friendship—and perhaps a bit of annoyance—for her, but at the moment, she felt like the heroine in a romance novel.
With all of that in mind, it was perfectly natural to let romantic fancies run wild. Besides which, she had been thinking a lot about romance and perfect pairings of late. Phil still hadn’t asked Halli out, but he would. Emma felt it in her bones. She had been focusing on that relationship, guiding and encouraging, and talking with Halli whenever the topic arose. And by now, her young friend had been convinced that Phil was a far superior person to Rob the chair arranger, even if there was a bit more to Rob than chairs. That romance was building slowly, but it was still front and centre in her mind. Gordon still disagreed, but he was wrong. Of course he was wrong. He couldn’t read people like she could.
And then there was Jean-François, newly arrived on the scene, with his suave good looks and sexy accent. Flirting with him was a great deal of fun, and that, too, had her thinking of flowers and serenades, valentines and cupids. So, of course, it meant absolutely nothing at all that, for a moment, she pictured Gordon in that same light. Pure nonsense.
But, perchance, that fragment of interest did have some implications. So far, as much as she’d intended to fall in love with Jean-François from the first time she heard Randall talk about him, it hadn’t happened yet. She was very busy with her business and with Halli’s personal life, and she just had not had time. Falling in love must surely take some effort, and she’d always been too busy. She’d certainly dated a lot—she knew she was pretty enough to catch the guys’ eyes, and they were attracted to her success—but she was beginning to wonder if the kind of love you read about in books was something for other people. No. That was also nonsense. It just took the time and effort she hadn't been prepared to put into it yet. Maybe, rather than asking Jean-François to join a group, she could see if he was interested in a one-on-one date at some point. Just to see if the flirtations might lead to anything else, something that might touch her heart.
In the middle of this eddy of thoughts, was Gordon. He was still right there in the centre, the focus of all her musings and considerations. Perhaps she should put her matchmaking skills to work on his behalf and see about finding a perfect partner for him as well. It would have to be someone pretty special. He could be annoying and dull and far too staid in his thinking sometimes, but he was a really wonderful person, and not just any woman would do. She ran through the list of possibilities as she put on the kettle for a cup of tea.
There was Elise. She was boring, too. They’d be perfect. She was very nice and smart, and rather attractive if you liked that sort of look, and she did sing quite well. Oh… but from something Janet had said, Elise had recently started seeing someone. Damn. She wouldn’t do, then.
Hmmm… Masako was married. Sanita was too old. Tina was way too silly. Absolutely not. Janet was all over the new tenor, Carlos. Who else…?
What about Ashleigh?
She was closer to Gordon’s age, and was rather attractive. She was a lawyer, so she must be pretty smart, and while she was quiet and reserved, she did seem nice enough. Gordon had mentioned her in positive terms from time to time, and she also sang very nicely. She was another soprano, with a clear and rich voice that might have taken her onto the stage if she’d put the effort into training her voice for opera. Emma would absolutely have to consider Ashleigh.
If only she weren’t so quiet. And reserved. Really, what did Emma know about her? What did anyone know about her? Hmmm… Come to think of it, perhaps not.
There really wasn’t anyone good enough for Gordon, when it came right down to it.
She sighed as she added some milk and sugar to her tea, and sat down on the window seat to stare outside and hope that some perfect person would appear for her good friend. Someone as special and perfect as she, herself, was.
CHAPTER9
THE CHRISTMAS PARTY
With Christmas almost upon them,the days flew by, and before she knew it, Emma was preparing for the first of the choir’s Christmas concerts. One of the carols they were to perform included some passages for solo soprano, and as the best singer in the section, she, of course, would sing them. She took a hot shower, drank warm eucalyptus tea, and went through all her usual routines and warm-ups to ensure that her voice was at its very best.
This being a smaller concert than the following week’s ‘Messiah’, or the Mozart mass they were scheduled to sing in the spring, there was no orchestra—only Gordon at the piano. As much as Emma enjoyed the big pieces, she loved the intimacy of these smaller shows, the cosiness and the familiarity of it all. There was something especially pleasing knowing that it was Gordon who was to play for them.
In some ways, nothing had changed between them since the night of the gala, but in some intangible way, everything had. There was an added depth to their friendship, something far beyond the casual evolution of childhood friendships they’d had before, or even the comfort of old family friends. More and more, Emma felt if ever she needed someone to whom she could unburden her heart, it was him. He might question her decisions and chastise her for every imaginable shortcoming, but he would be there for her and he would never belittle her. Any criticism he might offer was intended for her own good and came from the heart. She had never felt this way about another friend and she cherished it.
With this new connection foremost in her thoughts, she caught his eye as she stood straight and tall for her solos, and sang with the voice of an angel, knowing his solid, dependable playing supported her unconditionally. Just like he supported her unconditionally.
Afterwards, everyone gathered around her to praise her for her beautiful singing, and with a modesty that was only partly assumed, she returned the accolades, citing the rest of the choir for their perfect performance, and pointing out Gordon’s sensitive accompaniment.
He smiled as she shared the glory, and that made her unaccountably happy.
The following week were the two performances of ‘Messiah’, this time with full orchestra and professional soloists. The first of these performances, on Friday night, was out of town, about an hour’s drive from the city. Most of the choir members carpooled, and Emma ended up driving with Halli, Ashleigh, and Gordon.
She had been disappointed that Phil hadn’t offered to drive Halli, and even more so when he asked if he could join them only after the car was full. If only she had known he was going to need a ride, she would have told Ash that there weren’t any more seats.
But this did give her the opportunity to see if any sparks flew between Ash and Gordon. She wasn’t sure if she wanted there to be some, or not.
The concert went well, and the drive home was accompanied by everyone’s accounts of the concert, their impressions of the soloists, their thoughts about the orchestra, and what they hoped for the following night. As for Ash and Gordon, there were no sparks at all. Good. He deserved someone better, anyway.
The second of the two performances was in Toronto, at a church where they often sang, with its lovely stained-glass windows and rich acoustics. The orchestra squeezed themselves into the tight space between the first pew and the risers for the choir, and glorious sounds resonated all through the building. The choir sang beautifully, with not a single swallowed mistake at the big grand pause in the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’, and the soloists were first rate. It was a grand success.
