Page 18 of The Matchmaker's Melody
By the time Masako rose to call Emma’s symbol, a sun with a happy face, Emma had regained most of her composure. She stepped forward with a grin, waving her matching card, and accepted the cute little cactus in its painted clay pot with all the oohs and aahs it deserved. And, a few minutes later, when Emma was called to give her present, she looked every bit the calm and self-assured person Gordon had always known.
And so the game continued. Phil, who had also scuttled in late and who looked rather out of sorts, nevertheless stuck around to receive his gift, a box of gourmet herbal teas, presented by Mara, an alto. He nodded his thanks and mumbled a word or two about enjoying tea, and then slunk back to the table at the far wall, glowering at the card in his hand.
There were only a few people left, and Phil’s expression was growing darker and darker each second.
“We’ll chat later,” Gordon whispered in Emma’s ear, before sliding back around the room towards the table by Phil. Emma’s eyes were glued to him. He could feel them on his back as he walked, and when he turned around, they met his, blue beacons boring into his own. What was she trying to tell him?
Gordon nodded at Phil. “What’s your card?”
Phil clenched his jaw. “The quarter-note rest.” He scoured the circle to see who was left without a present. Halli was seated only a short distance away, and she held her card in such a way that both men could see it.
It was the matching quarter rest.
Phil let out a sound that could only be described as a growl.
At that moment, Taylor called his name.
All eyes turned to him, including Halli’s, and Gordon saw the young woman’s anticipation and he dangled his card, with the quarter note, in his hand. She knew he was her match, and he knew that she knew.
Then, with a snort, he announced, “This is stupid,” and without another word, he turned around and stormed away, leaving his card on the table and taking his gift with him.
Halli’s face drained, going almost grey. She looked positively stricken. From the other side of the room, Emma’s expression was frantic.
She knew! She knew that Phil was supposed to give his present to Halli. She had arranged this, the…
But this was no time to chastise Emma, even in his thoughts. Halli was a sweet young woman and didn’t deserve to be humiliated by an asshole like Phil.
Gordon picked up the card that lay abandoned on the table, and reached into the small bag that dangled from one shoulder, withdrawing the gift package he’d placed in there, just in case.
This was ‘just in case’.
“Phil wasn’t feeling well,” he announced, “but don’t worry. Halli, this is for you.” He stepped forward and presented her with the tear-off notepad labelledChopin Liszt, for a shopping list, and a small set of pencils with music notes on them.
She rose from her chair with a tremulous smile, and he was almost overwhelmed by her grateful expression. Thank heavens he’d thought to bring this present. He’d have words with Phil later. Maybe Randall as well. That sort of behaviour was absolutely unprofessional.
But it was Emma’s face, still focused entirely on him from where she stood, that transfixed him. That smile, the gentle nod of her head, the expression that spoke of such appreciation, would sustain him for weeks. He hadn’t done this for her, but her recognition was, strangely, more important to him than he could have imagined.
“Thank you,” she mouthed.
His heart overflowed.
Gordon hardly noticed the rest of the exchange. Only a handful of people remained to give and receive, but it could have been a hundred or none at all. All he saw was Emma’s lovely face, smiling at him with such meaning in her eyes.
Eventually the activity came to an end and the party began to break up. “What was that about?” he finally managed to drop into her ear. “I think there’s something you need to tell me.”
She turned to him. “Later. Maybe…”
He cocked his head.
“Maybe afterwards,”she continued after a breath. “I could use a drink. Do you want to find a pub somewhere? It was… Oh, it was awful.”
Anything else she might have said was interrupted by Halli, who came bustling up with her gift in her hands. Jean-François trailed behind her, and they immediately launched into raves about the exchange, the concert, Handel, and their respective presents.
“And you were so kind, Gordon. I don’t know what I did, but—”
He waved off the accolades. “It was nothing, the least I could do.”
“You look tired, Emma. Are you well?” Jean-François turned his attention to her.
