The Billionaire and the Runaway Bride by Nadia Lee

Chapter Fifty-Five

Declan

The next morning, I eat an extra-healthy breakfast and dress neatly in a blue shirt and jeans. I start to walk out of the house until I realize it’s barely six.

Not the best idea.

But anxiety and excitement are building. I couldn’t sleep. I’m dying to get started on Project Win Yuna Back.

I have the SPIRIO play the “Chopsticks” Yuna and I performed together. It makes me smile. Yuna was perfect. She’s always perfect.

I’ve got some time to kill, so I read emails from Tim. Then I send a text to Benedict, asking him if he can cut his vacation short because I really need somebody to come deal with my other phone—the one exploding with texts and so on.

Finally I leave at nine thirty, which is respectable, and crawl through SoCal traffic that moves slower than a horde of turtles on tranquilizers.

When I finally get to Ivy’s doorstep, though, she doesn’t look pleased. I hear babies crying inside, and I suspect she’s out here because her husband’s probably dealing with the twins.

“Hi,” I say with a smile, trying not to appear desperate. Nobody likes desperation.

“What are you doing here? Yuna’s not here, and I’m not forwarding any messages to her, either, in case that’s what you want.”

“It’s not. I was wond—”

“Good. Because I’d rather break a finger.”

Ouch. That’s harsh, coming from a pianist. “I’m not here to make another apology. I’m here to prove that I’m serious about making things right with Yuna.”

She gives me a look reserved for the intellectually challenged. “And how are you going to do that?”

“You remember how I group-texted you that Yuna and I ran into her money-grubbing ex at a restaurant and asked you never to take her there?”

“I do. So what?”

“She told me he’d have to play a Chopin waltz to earn her forgiveness.”

“And…?”

“So I’m going to learn one. And play it for Yuna to show her how committed I am.” I give her my most earnest smile.

Ivy looks at me like I’ve lost my sanity. “It takes years to be able to play Chopin well. Can you even read music?”

“Yes. Well, I mean, pretty well. I had some piano lessons when I was a kid.”

She crosses her arms, a veneer of condescension on her face. “Some lessons when you were a kid. We’re talking a Chopin waltz here, not one of Satie’s Gymnopédies. You’d have to practice for hours a day for weeks and weeks. And you’re clearly a very busy person. I don’t know how a man who can’t show up for his girlfriend’s birthday party has the time to practice for more than a minute.”

Her cynicism hurts, but it’s valid, and I have no one to blame but myself. So all I can do is say, “Because I’m that serious.”

Ivy stares at me for a long, long moment, while my heart thumps in my chest. If she says no, I don’t know who I’m going to go to. I have a feeling that just any old Chopin waltz won’t do.

“Fine,” she says crisply. “You can come in. And we’ll discuss this.”

“Thank you,” I say, my shoulders relaxing a little.

“Don’t think I’m going to make it easy on you, though,” she warns me as she walks along the hallway.

I follow. “I don’t care. You can smack my hands with a ruler if you want.”

“We don’t teach piano to people that way.” She gives me a slightly nasty look. “On the other hand, anyone who hurts my friend is hard to regard as a person.”

I just smile. She can assign me to whatever species she wants as long as I get Yuna back.

We walk through the door at the end of the hall. It’s a huge room with large windows facing the garden. In the center is a gigantic grand piano. It seems bigger than the one I have. On the side is a tiger lily.

Tony’s pacing around the piano, holding Katherine. I only know it’s the girl because she’s in a pink onesie. The other baby, who’s in blue, is aimlessly waving his fists in a cradle that’s rocking itself.

Katherine is drooling on Tony’s shirt, making the shoulder area visibly wet. He doesn’t seem to care, though, from the way he is keeping her close, his hand protective.

“What’s he doing here?” Tony asks. His tone conveys puzzlement, like I must have bribed his wife or something.

“He wants to master one of Chopin’s waltzes,” she says mockingly.

Tony looks at me. “So you should call a piano teacher…?”

“He wants to play it for Yuna.” Ivy clearly doesn’t believe that I’ll do it.

Okay, fine, she’s skeptical. Still, I need somebody on my side, so I tell Tony my reason. He raises his eyebrows and looks slightly impressed, although the expression vanishes the instant Ivy cuts her eyes at him.

“I think ‘Grande Valse brillante’ will do quite well,” Ivy says.

Tony shoots her a mildly reproachful look. “That’s mean.”

“Fine.” Ivy looks at her fingertips. “Opus 34 Number 1.”

“Also mean.”

“Is she giving me difficult ones?” I ask.

“Yes,” Tony says. “Very.”

“You know Chopin pretty well.” I have no idea what pieces Ivy’s referring to. Maybe I should memorize a list of Chopin’s works. That might go toward impressing Yuna as well.

“I play a little. When Ivy and I first met, we played Schubert’s Fantasie together,” Tony explains.

Holy shit. This man can perform Schubert with somebody who went to Curtis? I regard him with renewed respect.

Ivy’s mouth is set in a flat line as she looks at her husband. “Our would-be suitor might as well challenge himself.”

“He’ll never learn to play them before Yuna leaves for Korea.”

“When is she leaving?” I ask, trying to figure out the time frame.

“Why? So you can give up now?” Ivy asks.

Time for a little pushback. “I’m not that weak-willed. Ideally, I can convince her before she leaves Los Angeles, but if not, I’ll fly to Korea to play for her there.”

Ivy frowns and pulls back slightly.

“That’s the problem,” Tony says. “You’re never going to be able to play something like a Chopin opus perfectly with less than a decade of practice.”

“Okay, then let’s pick another piece. I’ll be damned if Yuna has more dates with the Hundred.”

“More dates?” Ivy’s eyes grow sharp. “What do you mean?”

“She had lunch with some dossier guy yesterday.” I try to maintain a calm tone, but fail badly. I’m so mad at myself that she went on that date.

Ivy places a hand on her forehead. “Oh God. What are we going to do?” she says to nobody in particular as she turns in a circle like a stressed-out hamster.

Tony puts a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll support her and make sure she’s happy. That’s all we can do.”

Ivy looks at me, then back at her husband. Some unspoken communication passes between them. Hopefully, it’s something along the lines of “Let’s help Declan! Yuna shouldn’t have to marry a dossier!”

Finally, Ivy sighs. “What do you suggest?”

Tony thinks for a moment. “Opus 69 Number 1.”

“You know it’s also called ‘L’Adieu,’ right?”

“Not that one,” I say. “I’m not playing this to say goodbye to her.”

Tony frowns. “Okay, you’re right.” Katherine makes a small noise, and he rubs her back idly. “How about Opus 69 Number 2? That’s ‘Deux Valses.’ And really pretty. Not too difficult, either.”

Ivy shakes her head. “Waltz in A minor. Other than the one in C-sharp minor, it’s Yuna’s favorite.”

Now we’re getting somewhere! “Great! Let’s do that one. But, um… Is it Yuna’s favorite because it’s the most difficult one?” That wouldn’t surprise me. I remember her fingers blurring over the keys…

“Actually, it’s the easiest, technique-wise. But it requires some delicate handling. Otherwise you end up sounding like a stiff child learning a piece beyond his skill level. And you have to finish the entire piece in under two minutes and thirty seconds or so, because otherwise it’s going to be too slow.”

Two and a half minutes to make my case. I can do that. I clench my fists in a “let’s get going” gesture. “Got it. When can we start? Because now seems really good.”