Page 132 of Steal My Heart
“Your keyboard.” Tracking it down was nothing short of a miracle, but the look on her face, I’d do it a hundred times over.
Remi hurries around to the front of the keyboard, running her fingers down the keys. She bursts into tears.
“What’s wrong?” I close the distance between us, wrapping her in my arms.
“I knew you were hellbent on making me fall in love with you.” She cries against my chest.
“You don’t have to sound so happy about it.” I kiss her on the forehead, and she laughs through her tears. Grabbing her chin, I angle her face so I can see her eyes. “Don’t get any ideas about this keyboard; you won’t be playing in the streets, but I thought you might like it for sentimental reasons.”
“And why do you assume I won’t be playing in the streets?” She looks up at me.
My thumbs swipe the tears from her eyes. “Not an assumption; call it my professionalpsychicopinion.” I’d love to tell her about the second part of her gift, but the grand reveal will be worth the wait.
Chapter Forty
Angelo
“Happy birthday, dear Remi,” everyone in the household sings, “happy birthday to you.”
Leaning over the cake, she blows out the candles, getting all twenty-two of them out with a single puff.
“I’ll let you do the honors.” Alessandra hands Remi a knife.
She accepts, but hesitates with the blade hovering over the cake. “Do I have to? It’s too pretty to cut!”
Alessandra grabs the knife from her hand and slices right down the center of Remi’s concert grand piano…cake.
“There still could be a hidden room,” Remi mutters, and I chuckle quietly.
“What?” Alessandra asks, bringing up the blade with red bits of cake.
“Never mind.” Remi shakes her head. “I’m beyond amazed how you created this! And the keys, so much detail!”
“It is impressive, Al,” I tell my sister.
“I’ve got time on my hands.” Alessandra shrugs.
Remi clears her throat. “You’re an amazing cake artist. It’s a compliment…”
“Thanks,” she mumbles. “Which piece would you like?”
“E major,” Remi answers without hesitation.
“What a surprise you chose the happiest of all the chords,” I muse.
“What’s your favorite chord?” she counters.
“D minor,” I answer without hesitation.
“What a surprise you chose the broodiest of all the chords,” Remi retorts.
“Not a musical bone in this body, so you’ll have to point to what you want,” Alessandra interjects.
“Give me the E key and D key for Angelo,” Remi points to the correct keys. “I’m a glutton. Cake for breakfast and now cake for lunch.” She claps her hands together before accepting the plate.
“I’ve had my share of sweets this morning,” I agree, my eyes meeting hers.
Remi nearly chokes on the first bite, her cheeks warming.
