The Tease by Lauren Blakely EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Lauren Blakely
- Language: English
- Genre: Billionaire Romance
- Format: PDF/ EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
HUSH HUSH
Jules
My friend Scarlett is begging me to fill in for her tomorrow night, but really,
she doesn’t have to ask twice. The second she called and asked, “Can you
play piano at The Scene?” I was all in.
“Yes,” I say as calmly as I can while I hustle past the turnstiles on
Fourteenth Street.
“Thanks. I forgot all about my shift at the bar,” Scarlett says, then
hesitates. “And can you still play Gershwin? They’re big on ‘Rhapsody in
Blue.’”
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“My fingers remember all the jazz standards from my childhood,” I tell
her as I rush down the crowded steps to the platform, dodging harried New
Yorkers racing up. Showtime’s at eight for a critics’ screening for a new TV
series I worked on. I can’t be late, but I don’t want to press pause on this call
and take a chance Scarlett might ask someone else to sub.
I soothe her worries even as I enter the belly of the subway beast. “I can
play a ton of masquerade songs.”
As an incoming train on the other platform rattles in, she’s unexpectedly
silent before she says, “Oh. I didn’t think I said it was a masquerade?”
Shoot. Did I just give myself away? But I’ve kept my own secrets for
years. I’ve had to keep them. “With a name like The Scene, I took a guess,” I
say confidently.
Another pause, then she speaks. “Well, good one, babe. Anyway, the
parties are kind of hush-hush with the whole masquerade thing, and they’re
also kind of risqué. So I wanted to make sure you’re definitely free tomorrow
night and…well, that you’re comfortable with it.”
Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea. “I’m great with masquerades,” I
answer in the same tone I’d say I’m great with people at a job interview.
“Oh good. I thought you might be, since we’ve been clubbing,” she says
with a naughty little lilt in her tone. “And every time I see you, you always
look like someone different.”
Well, that’s kind of the point.
I check for my train, peering down the tunnel but not getting too close to
the tracks. The phone connection will sputter out any second, and I don’t
need to tell her the extent of my wardrobe and wigs to prove I’m the woman
for the gig. She already knows my credentials. Knows, too, I helped pay for
my own college by teaching piano. Still, I want this gig badly so I need to
assuage all of her concerns. “The only thing on my schedule tomorrow night
was putting on a sea-clay eye mask and listening to a playlist. So, I’m totally
free to help out. I’ve got you,” I tell her, selling myself subtly.
I’m not about to disclose the real reason I am bursting inside and already
counting down the hours.
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