The tour

Chapter 10

'Oh God, I'm sorry. I just haven't eaten this good in months. And I really love chocolate mousse!'

Michael kept chuckling.

'It's okay. I think it's cute. So... Exactly what are you doing here in the US?' he tried asking her again. Kristina shrugged her shoulders.

'I told you. Studying.'

'But there's more than that. I'm sure you would be able to study in Denmark. Why here?'

'I got a scholarship.' The smile had disappeared from Kristinas face, but Michael kept pushing on. He wanted to solve her mystery.

'Aren't schools in Denmark free?' Kristina just glared at him. Michael knew he had her in a corner.

'What about your parents, don't you miss them?'

Kristina took another sip of her wine. It was her fourth glass. Someone just kept filling it up when it was empty. Maybe it was because of that, but she felt like opening up a bit to Michael. He was obviously curious about her.

'I was raised by my grandmother. But she died three years ago. So I guess I'm an orphan,' she said. Michael looked like a child who had just been scolded.

'I'm sorry, I didn't know that. I shouldn't have asked.'

'It's okay. My grandmother was great. She was the one who told me to start playing the guitar. She taught me my first chords on my dads old Kazooka. And she was so proud of me when I got into journalism and started studying it. Then I got an internship at a paper in Copenhagen, and it was paid and full time. But it was an awful job, and I was only doing tabloid stuff but working an average of 70 hours per week. Meanwhile, my grandmother died, and I wasn't even there to say goodbye to her. After some time, I just cracked. I wanted to get out of there. So I quit, got a scholarship to UCLA and here I am,' she said, shrugging her shoulders and having another sip of the delicious wine. It wasn't untrue, but it wasn't the entire truth either. But that was all she felt comfortable telling him.

'Who was your teacher after your grandmother?'

'No one. I taught myself.'

'Really,' Michael asked with raised eyebrows. 'That's very impressive!' Kristina shrugged her shoulders.

'Not really. Maybe if I had had a teacher, I would know how to play the electric properly.'

'Why do you doubt yourself so much?' Michael asked, with an almost amused look on his face, as he played around with his wineglass.

'I don't. I'm just being realistic.' His look pierced through her, and made her slightly uncomfortable. He was looking at her like he wanted to devour her. But he didn't. Did he?

Michael got up, walked to her end of the table and reached his hand to her.

'Come with me,' he said. Without question, much unlike her, Kristina took his hand and let him lead her to another room further inside the large penthouse-apartment.

She couldn't believe her eyes, when she entered the room. It was a small recording studio with all sorts of expensive high-tech gear and musical instruments everywhere. Including several guitars. Michael chuckled when he saw her expression.

'I figured you'd like it. Can you play any of the guitars here?'

Kristina picked up a beautiful dark brown Yamaha in rosewood. It was for lefthandeds. She sat down without a word and started playing different tunes. Michael sat down on the floor and just watched her. God, she was beautiful, and that dress was making him crazy. He wanted more than anything to slide his hands up her thighs.