Chapter Fifteen    

Tim

HE TOOK ONE DAY OFF for the birth of his son. That had been three months earlier to the day.

For the past three months he hadn't taken any more time off, but from the day Stephen was born, he stopped the late night recording sessions in his studio. He stopped arriving early at the Sing House. Gone were the extended session with his team.

To assuage the guilt for not over-working like he was used to, he started talking to Isabella about Sing. He found it difficult to explain the intricacies of his plans for his team, but even if she didn't understand, she wasn't complaining. She asked about his days and listened while he told her everything. About his team, about music, even about his daily attempts to annoy King and about mousey Alice's funny interreferences.

It should have made him feel better. Instead, he was looking forward to his working hours in the House. Probably because the first semi-final was a week away and he wanted to win. He wanted to have Music Room One again.

He looked over the dining hall. King was at his usual table, with David Porter across from him. Strange. That was usually Alice's chair. Where could she be, he wondered annoyed. The week before the semi-final. How irresponsible of her to take time off!

He went to the buffet and piled some food on his plate. The only thing Vy had asked him about this season of Sing had been if the food was as good as she remembered it. He trudged toward King's table out of habit and his heart leapt when he saw Alice had appeared. She was sitting next to King. Very, very next to him.

She was craning her neck to watch him writing. His second thought was that they had some more bloody forms to fill up and he had forgotten about them. His first reaction was a blaze of anger searing through him. And to think that Vy still pined after that dumbass!

"What's going on?" he asked when he got close.

Alice looked up at him for a moment and mumbled a greeting before staring back into King's paper.

"Andy is fixing a song he wrote for them," David answered. "And if you think Alice is excited, you should see the boys fangirling every time they work with him."

"They're not that bad," Alice said without looking at David or at him.

"Yes, they are," David assured him. "You never met Sebastian, right?"

"Vy's brother?" he asked. "No, I have the good Cesara in my studio," he said trying to shake King's focus.

Alice opened her mouth to argue, but she closed it when she met his eyes. Whatever she saw in them, made her eyelashes flutter and her cheeks flush.

"They're both very talented," King said, capping the pen and handing Alice the sheet.

The girl reached up and planted a big noisy kiss on King's cheek. To Tim's surprise, the big man smiled and brightened up as if he was used to her affection.

"Carter, you got here late," King said. "As much as we enjoy your company, we have practice scheduled on the main stage."

King and David stood up, but Alice remained seated.

"I'll be there in five minutes," she said, looking up at her Captain. "I have to send the guys this version."

She turned her gaze to him.

"They texted me a million times to ask about the song," she said as if justifying herself for dawdling behind.

She shook her head when she looked at the screen.

"They do not know the meaning of the word patience," she said, but the sparkle in her eyes and the warmth in her voice was at odds with the stern words.

She took photos of the music sheets and sent the message. He had never seen her so happy. He mirrored her happiness when she looked up at him again. His heart felt light and for a moment he forgot to be angry with the world.

"Got to go," Alice said, standing up.

She folded the music sheets neatly and placed them in her notebook, which she tucked carefully in the ridiculously large pink bag. The obvious delight on her face brought a smile to his lips. Waves of happiness seeped from the girl into his own troubled soul.

He turned his head to watch her leave, grasping to the shred of cheerful peace echoing inside him. She was almost skipping with happiness a little thing as an improved version of a song for her band. When was the last time he'd ever felt such simple happiness?

For the past six years, the Bracciano Mansion had housed the most intense moments of his days. And now in this place, not his home, he found peace.

He and Isabella weren't even arguing any more. He loved his new born son. And yet, his house was no longer his home.

He realized why the tense politeness was so familiar. He'd lived that situation during his parents' many reconciliations. He'd hated those weeks and months more than the times when his father was in some faraway corner of the world, and his mother dragged him at the theater.

He hated the way everything felt when Barbara and James pretended they could make it work. He hated the hope he felt each time that it would last, only to be shattered when his father left and his mother cried all through the night.

He stayed lost in thoughts at the empty table. He didn't love Isabella. The more they got along, the more he hated her. Her companionship was not a healthy relationship. It was a prison. He knew how he had acted with Alba. He hadn't given up on their relationship in time, blindly clinging to an ideal of love.

He'd been often unkind and sometimes cruel to Alba because she didn't live up to his idea of love. Alba, who was gentle and demure, had left his life in with her soul in shreds. People might think he avoided her because he was sorry he lost her or jealous on her new found happiness. The truth was he was ashamed for hurting her.

The arguments they had before Stephen's birth warned him he would do much worse to Isabella. Accidental or not, Isabella had tricked him and a part of himself couldn't forget or forgive.

He felt his heart turn to ice when he made the decision. He picked up the phone and looked for his lawyer's number.

"Cesara and associates," a female voice chirped at the other end.

"I'm Tim Carter. I want to schedule a meeting with Mitch Rathbone today."

"A moment," she said. "Mr Rathbone can see you at 4 pm."

"Excellent. Thank you."

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