Page 1 of Echoes of a Silent Song
Chapter One
BLAIREMERSONcouldn’t recall ever praying for patience.
She must have, though.Once upon a time she must’ve flung a plea heavenward for that particular virtue, because it took a special kind of patience to adjust to a sixth boss in six years.
It hadn’t always been this way.When Vic Nelson was choral director, top ratings at contest and packed-house concerts were the norm.During his nearly four decades at the helm, the Peterson High choral program had been synonymous with excellence.Blair counted herself fortunate to have had him as both her teacher in high school and her boss as an adult.In fact, after receiving two degrees in piano, she’d turned down other job offers and eagerly returned to her alma mater to work with Vic for the last two years of his tenure.And sad though she’d been when he retired, she’d been confident that a new director could fill his sizable shoes and maintain the program’s stellar reputation.
But since his retirement, directors had been in and out on an annual basis, with the predictable damage to enrollment, morale, and music making.The latest hire hadn’t even lasted long enough to start the year.He’d gotten a better offer two weeks ago and had done an abrupt about-face.Vic had pulled a few strings and made the most of his connections, and now Blair had a new name to learn: Callum Knight.
Leaning into the crook of the choir room’s ebony Steinway grand, Blair pulled her phone from her pocket and resumed social-media stalking her newest colleague.His degree in music education was standard, but dual master of music degrees in composition and choral conducting?Those weren’t.Nor were the slick, high-quality website, thelist of published works and commissions, or the baton-wielding professional headshot.With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Blair set the phone down on the piano.That shiny website might as well have had “Teaching Is My Fallback Plan” scrolling across it in giant red letters.
The door burst open with its typical click-squeak-bang, and a haggard-looking figure stumbled in.Espresso-colored hair, wild and wavy and so far past needing a trim that hedge clippers might be required to subdue it.A square jaw and cleft chin shadowed in what must have been a week and a half of stubble.Rumpled dress shirt, the top three buttons undone, and a blue-striped tie draped haphazardly around his neck.An enormous travel mug clenched in a white-knuckled grip.All of it a far cry from the dangerously handsome tuxedo-clad man whose headshot had just filled her phone screen.
Blair tilted her head and studied her new colleague.Was he hungover?No ...that wasn’t the vibe.More like barely awake.
At just past noon.
On the first day of staff meetings.
Way to make a first impression.
“Morning,” he said, more grunt than greeting.
“Afternoon,” Blair replied with a pointed glance at the digital clock hanging above the whiteboard.“You’ve already missed half a day’s worth of meetings.”
The new director set his travel mug on a table near the board.“If they were anything like every other meeting in the world, I missed nothing of consequence.But if I did miss anything, you seem like the type who took good enough notes to catch me up.”
Blair stiffened.She had taken notes.She always took notes.How this just-rolled-out-of-bed champion of condescension could possibly know that, though, was anyone’s guess.
“Hmmph.”She jammed her phone back into her pocket.
He finished buttoning his shirt, then applied a manufactured smile to stubble-shrouded lips and extended his right hand.“Callum Knight.Pleasure to meet you.”
“Blair Emerson.”She returned his handshake but not his pleasantry.
The evaluation his piercing green eyes gave her was thorough andpenetrating but unreadable beyond that.Oh well.She’d learn to read his expressions well enough in time.It was part of her job, after all.
“Ah, yes.The accompanist.”
“Collaborative pianist” came her automatic reply.Normally Blair found the two terms interchangeable and had no preference.But the latter, though more verbally unwieldy, carried the weight of an equal musical partnership, something she suspected she’d have to fight to receive from this arrogant creature.
“Of course.Apologies.”His tone conveyed much—mild exasperation, a hint of amusement, perhaps even curt dismissal—but not a hint of apology.“It’s all the same, really.I wave my arms, you follow me, and it’ll all be peaches and sunshine.”
Blair drew herself to her full, hopefully intimidating height.“You don’t need to tell me my responsibilities, Mr.Knight.Especially since I’m confident I have considerably more experience working with high schoolers than you do.”
Straightening his still-untied tie, he gave a lopsided smirk.“So you’ve researched me, then.”
“Of course I have.And I certainly hope you paid attention during your ed degree, because I am not in the mood to handhold.I’m proud of this program and ready to see it return to its former glory, and I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to achieve that goal.”
“Well, currently,” he drawled, weaving his tie into a quick knot, “that involves putting up with me for this school year and then giving that rousing pep talk to my replacement.”
Wow.So it had come to this.Directors who announced their days were numbered before the students even darkened the doors.
Her hands found her hips.“You’re not even giving this a chance.Wonderful.”
“Look, let’s be up-front with each other.”He tightened his tie.“Composition is my passion.It was enough to keep a roof over my head for a few blessed years, but now, for a variety of reasons too long and boring to explain, I find myself in need of a steady paycheck.Since I have no dependents and since cost of living here is low, this year’s salary should be enough to keep me afloat until ...well, until I ...”
For the first time, Callum faltered.Gave some indication that his blustering, blowhard act was, in fact, just that.An act.
