“Chris, you’re a good cellist,” she said, seriously. “You could play almost anything you wanted. I mean, you’re not Yo Yo Ma, but then, who is? How did CP hear about you? Just from the perfume ads?”
“No, he said Elizabeth White told him about me.”
“Elizabeth White!” Her eyes got wide.
I nodded. “I met her when I was in St. Lucia last year and she said she’d heard Wind Star.”
Beverly laughed. “There are thousands of cellists, hell, thousands and thousands of string players who would die for an endorsement from Elizabeth White. Damn, Chris, I’ve never had an endorsement from her.”
I smiled. “Yes, you have. When I told her I’d studied with you, she said I had a wonderful background.”
Beverly beamed. “Think about it.”
* * * *
I had to have a talk with the other Wind Stars.
“I have a problem,” I started, at the next Wednesday rehearsal.
“Wilson wants you to marry him but you’d have to move to California,” John speculated.