Page 18 of Book Boyfriend
“This is Macy,” Luna says, motioning to me.
The cello player nods to the others and they start to play. I slowly amble to my desk, completely aware that my mouth is hanging on the floor.
At first, I don’t recognize the song. I’m not much of a classical girl. I just wrote Kasey as one because she’s a little more sophisticated than I am. But as they play, I start to recognize the melody. It’s not Bach, or Mozart, it’s . . . Fall Out Boy? Are they playing “I Don’t Care” on strings?
Tears sting my eyes. It’s beautiful and crazy all at the same time. I slide into my desk chair, unable to take my eyes off them.
Their fingers move with grace and skill. If you didn’t know any better you’d think they were playing a concerto rather than a rock song. As they play, more and more people from the office crowd into my room. We clap and roar at the end of the song. They move right into, “Sugar, I’m Going Down” and then “Irresistible.”
Just as they’re about to start another, I ask them to stop. I walk around my desk and over to them then I eye Luna. She reads my mind. Waving everyone out of the room, she closes the door behind the last person.
“I don’t mean to be rude by interrupting, and you play magnificently, but I need to know. Who sent you?” I ask.
“We’re not at liberty to say, miss. It’s part of our contract.”
“Your contract?”
“Yes, we were asked to play a variety of Fall Out Boy songs on strings for one hour, but we weren’t allowed to begin until you arrived, no matter how long that took.”
“But . . . why?” I ask. “Who would do this?”
The cello player seems to be in charge since he’s the only one who speaks. He shrugs his shoulders to my question then says, “Shall we continue?”
My head rolls to regard Luna as my hands fly open in question to her. She can see I don’t know what to do, so she pipes up.
“Are you allowed to tell us anything?”
He smiles. “I was told that the woman we were playing for was quite lovely and that this was her favorite band. That’s all.”
“Did you meet the person who contracted you?”
“No. We spoke on the phone.”
“Man or woman?” Luna asks.
“Man.”
“And how did he pay?” I ask, as if I don’t already know the answer.
“He paid in cash. There was an envelope waiting with the signed agreement last night.”
“Could you give me a minute?” I ask, pulling Luna by the elbow as we leave my office. She’s smirking the whole way.
As soon as we’re in her office, I close the door behind me. “This is awful!” I moan, placing my fingers over my eyes and leaning my back against the door.
“No, it’s not! It’s fantastic! Someone is following your book to the letter! Well, except for the choice of music.”
“That’s just it! How did they know my favorite music?” My mind wanders back to the day on the beach with Fisher and my ratted T-shirt. I swallow hard.
“Duh?” Luna says as she rolls her eyes. “You post about them all the time. You recorded half their songs on your Instagram feed when you went to their concert, remember? Anyone who knows you, knows you love them.”
I teeter my head. She’s got a point. A quick search on my Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram accounts and you’d see I talk about them more than my own books.
“And you swear to the creator of dildos and dicks that this is not you?”
She lifts her right hand and places the other on her heart. “I swear. If I’m lying I’ll never have sex again.”
She’s serious. She’d never say that unless it was the absolute truth. “Do you really think it’s just a fan? I mean, that shit costs money!”
