Diving Deep (UK Crush #2)

Chapter 43

"Please, please, come into my office and have a seat. Can I get you anything? Would either of you like some tea? Anything?"

We both responded in the negative and sat across from his desk, which was covered with papers, musical scores, and notes in at least three languages. Most of the tiny space was taken up by a huge Steinway, which had been crammed in at an odd angle.

"Please pardon the mess. It does make sense to me, I assure you," he said with a laugh.

We made desultory small talk about Professor Van Dyke and USC, and about Hamilton and what I had chosen for my audition and why.

He turned to Teddy at one point and asked, "What do you do, Mr. Shelley, that you have all this free time to ferry her about town?"

"I'm a singer in a band, actually," Teddy responded. "We've just come off tour and filming a movie, so we're on a break until next February; the timing's perfect for me to be available through her preparation process, all the way through the actual audition in January."

"A band?" Richard repeated. "Anything I might have heard of?"

"It's doubtful," Teddy said with a smile. "You're not our demographic. We're called UK Crush, and we're mainly popular with young girls."

"UK Crush?" Richard smiled. "I know that name. I think my niece is a fan, actually. You had a song last summer, something about a puzzle?"

"'You Don't Puzzle Me', yeah, that was us," said Teddy with a laugh.

"Wonderful! My stock with Celia has just gone through the roof," said Richard, joining in the laugh. I smiled too.

"Well, back to the business at hand. I believe you're going to play Mozart?" He said to me. I nodded.

"Now, you realize that, as Mozart's sonatas go, it's one of the less challenging pieces, and that could cost you in the judging process," he continued. I nodded again.

"The piece has sentimental meaning to me," I explained.

"As good a reason as any to select a piece, I believe.

"Okay, let's hear it," he gestured to the piano.

I stood up and wedged myself in between the piano and the wall, sitting on the bench. I played a few scales and exercises to warm up, and played through the piece without a wrong note. I could hear Richard's pen scratching on paper as he made notes in between the movements, and I wondered what he would have to say to me.

I closed the piece, sat for a moment, and closed the keyboard before moving back to my seat in front of his desk. Teddy reached for my hand and kissed it, whispering, "Beautiful job, darling." I squeezed his hand in gratitude.

"Okay, Aileen--"

"Excuse me for interrupting, Richard, but could I ask you to do something before we go any further?" I asked. He looked at me inquiringly.

"I don't really go by Aileen anymore," I explained. "It's sort of part of my past, a past I left behind.

"What I go by now, believe it or not, is Tinker Bell, or Tink, even," I said with a smile. "It's a long story, related to how my name Aileen is written in Japanese. It's not a name I chose for myself, but I've come to love it, and it's what everyone calls me now. I can't go back to Aileen now, it's not who I am anymore. Do you think you could call me Tinker Bell or Tink, please?" I smiled at him again. I felt Teddy squeeze my hand with approval and encouragement.

He looked at me and cleared his throat. "Tinker Bell? Really?" He looked at Teddy. "Is this your doing, Mr. Shelley?"

"Actually, no, Dr. Allen," Teddy answered with a smile. "I had nothing to do with it. I don't even call her that, ever."

"Well then," Richard continued. "I shall try, but I can tell you now, Miss Foster--"

"Ms. Foster," I politely interrupted again.

"Ms. Foster, then." He smiled. "As I was saying, the world of classical music is very serious, and even a name can make a crucial difference. I hope that all of your paperwork to Hamilton will have your proper name?"

"I haven't filed any official paperwork yet," I responded. "Do you really think it could make a difference?"

"I've heard of people being rejected for the brand of their shoes, Ms. Foster," he said drily. "You can choose to believe it or not."

"Now, should we get to my notes on your piece?" He grinned. "I assure you, all other things aside, I'm very good at this part of my job, and I will help you get this scholarship, if you let me."

I took a deep breath. "Tell me," I said simply.

We spent the next twenty minutes going over my piece as I took notes. Teddy recorded the whole thing on his iPhone.

"Okay, our time is about up, I see," Richard said, rising. "Same time next week? Will that work for you?"

I looked at Teddy, who nodded. I nodded to Richard.

"See you next week, then, and it was a pleasure to meet you," he extended his hand, first to me, then to Teddy.

"Oh, wait, I should get your mobile numbers, in case I need to reach you," he said, pulling out his phone. We quickly exchanged numbers, even Teddy, who never gave out his number.

We held hands in the elevator and didn't speak until we were outdoors. When we were standing on the sidewalk, Teddy picked me up and gave me a big, warm kiss.

"I don't think I've ever been prouder of you," he murmured, putting me down.

"Proud? Of what?" I asked, perplexed.

"The way you stood up to that asshole," he said with a huge grin.

"First of all, don't call him that. He's the asshole who's going to get me into Hamilton. Second, when did I stand up to him?" I asked as we walked back to the car, holding hands and swinging them.

"When you interrupted him to ask him to call you Tinker Bell, then when you interrupted him again to ask him to call you Ms.," he explained.

"Okay, I'll take that, I guess," I said, smiling.

"There's the smile," he crowed as we reached the car, and he pushed me against it to lay another kiss on me. I laughed into his mouth, just out of sheer happiness. "You know, it doesn't do a lot for my confidence as a man when you laugh right in the middle of my kissing you," he remarked, letting me go.

"Sorry," I said, continuing to laugh, looping an arm around his neck and hugging myself to him.

"You know what I realized about this place that's kind of weird?" He said as he hugged me back.

"You mean other than the fact that everyone talks like Margaret Thatcher and walks around like they've had corn cobs the size of Brazil shoved up their asses since birth?" I asked.

He burst into laughter. "Yeah, other than that," he choked out, shaking his head.

"What?" I asked, looking into his eyes.

"All the girls here are about the right age, but no one fucking knows who I am. No one fucking recognizes me." His voice was full of amazement. "I'm a fucking nobody here."

"Does that bother you?" I asked curiously.

"I don't know, to be honest," he said thoughtfully. "I used to think I'd give anything to just be able to walk around and not be mobbed, but now I can, it feels really strange, kind of unreal, fake almost."

"Well, let's get out of here, and out into the real world, where we can't sit down to eat a meal without hordes of screaming girls crying to take selfies with you and threatening to kill me, that'll be fun, right?" I turned to smile at him.