4 Chapter 4

He calmly inserted his copy of her key into the deadbolt and turned it in the lock. He pushed the door open and paused on the threshold, taking her scent deep into his lungs, savouring her essence. He'd never imagined a woman smelling so damn good. He wanted to devour every inch of her. It made no sense to him. There was nothing special about Addison. She wasn't beautiful...

Except she was.

He would challenge, and most likely brutalize, anyone that said otherwise. Addison's beauty was lush, yet also subtle, the type that became more obvious over time as a person got to know her. She was curvy, yet also delicate. Her movements were graceful and deliberate, her long wavy brunette hair begged to be wrapped around his fist. Her lovely bowed lips, pursed in concentration when she played her cello and lit up in a smile when she spoke to other people. Like Tyson King. Or her Maestro.

His body became taut. He could so easily see himself meting out death to the Maestro. He had to remind himself he was trying to blend into mainstream society. Murdering people that annoyed him wasn't a great way to fit in. He often yearned for his mercenary days, living in jungles and deserts, killing for money where no one would notice one extra body. Perhaps he would satisfy himself by 'accidentally' breaking the arm that had touched Addison's waist.

Forcing his muscles to release, he stepped into her home, closed the door firmly behind himself and locked it. She would be home soon. Until then, he would wait.

* * *

Addison tripped over the threshold of her apartment and giggled as she grabbed hold of the doorframe. Maestro quickly took hold of her arm until she was completely upright and then patted her shoulder gently. She could sense his amusement. Which wasn't exactly fair considering he'd had just as many cocktails as she'd had. It was a spur of the moment decision for them to go out and celebrate the generous donations the orchestra had received that evening. Only Maestro seemed better able to down four cocktails without experiencing the dizzying effects to which she seemed so susceptible. It wasn't a surprise, considering Addison rarely drank.

"Come on in Charles," she said, her voice slurring a little. "Stay for a drink." She reached for the light switch and then giggled realizing she wasn't entirely sure where it was, since she never turned it on. She told him as much.

His laughter was a booming baritone. "I can only stay for a minute, Addie. Marilyn is probably wondering what's taking so long, she's not used to my being out so late in the evening."

"What an impatient little bitch she is," Addison giggled. "She never warmed up to me. I bet she's just jealous!"

"You know Yorkshire Terriers, Addison, my dear," he agreed. "They're a one man kind of dog."

Addison smiled and winced slightly as artificial light flooded her eyes unexpectedly. He must have turned on the kitchen light. People would do that without warning her, often forgetting she couldn't see them groping for the switch or not understanding that the light could affect her too, despite her visual impairment. She turned her face away from the light source and began pulling off her bow tie.

"I do hate these parties, but I have to admit, Maestro, this one was a little more tolerable. I even got to meet the eminent Mr. King himself. I wonder how the heck he knows Mrs. Channing? That seems like a strange connection. She's a little old for him."

"Ah, well I may know the answer to that," he said, running the tap in her kitchen sink and from what she could hear, pouring two glasses of water. "I believe his old friend, Niccolo DeLuca, has business ties with her nephew overseas. Daniel Mercer is well acquainted with the nephew too, as far as I understand. I believe the two of them worked together in the security sector."

He pressed a glass of water into her hand while she was releasing the top buttons of her dress shirt. She waved him in the direction of her front room and smiled when she heard his gasp of appreciation. "This view, Addie- it's absolutely breathtaking- It's, forgive my bluntness, absolutely wasted on a blind woman!"

"Perhaps," she said, taking a gulp of water and setting her glass down on the coffee table before reaching for the waistband of her dress pants. "But you forget Maestro, I am an artiste, I have an excellent imagination. The view from my window is as boundless as my imagination."

She could feel his stillness as he took her words in. "Addison Sterling, you are a profoundly beautiful person," he said, then cleared his voice. "Are you taking your pants off?"

She laughed out loud, her voice ringing through the apartment. "Don't worry Charles, I'm not making a pass at you. I'm simply making myself comfortable. This dress shirt goes down nearly to my knees and I'm wearing stockings underneath. You can pretend you can't see anything since I can't, if it makes you feel better," she said laughingly.

He cleared his throat as she kicked off her pants and settled herself comfortably onto the sofa armchair in the corner of her living room. She could have no idea how provocative she looked with her legs encased in dark pantyhose crossed primly at the ankle in front of her, wearing only a man's dress shirt, unbuttoned down to her cleavage with her bowtie carelessly untied around the collar. Though the Maestro was old enough to be her father, he made a point of sitting clear across the room from her.?

"Tell me, Charles, how do you know so much about Mr. King's affairs, and who is Daniel- what's his name?" she asked, reaching for her glass of water.

He cleared his throat again. "I go to a lot of these parties. Unlike some of my best talent, I don't get to dodge them, and I've made it a habit of listening to the gossip that floats around. It's helpful to know who might be a good target for donations and who's all talk. Some of those people are all window dressing. There's no point in cozying up to the wrong ones if they don't have money to spend."

"That's so mercenary of you!" she gasped, laughing.

"It's part of the job, darling. You should remember that if you decide to start publishing those compositions of yours."

"And this Daniel person, and the nephew?"

"Ah yes," he answered, clearly enjoying being able impart some of his precious bank of gossip to an avid listener. "You actually met Daniel Mercer tonight. Well- not actually met. He was the bodyguard with Tyson King. Did you sense something different about the person standing next to King, maybe a little dangerous? You're usually pretty good at sensing that sort of thing."

Her breath caught for just a moment and she was back in the ballroom, experiencing that odd sensation of empty space. "Yes, I think so," she said softly. "What do you mean by dangerous?"

He hesitated before answering. "It's not easy to explain, there's just something about him, something in his eyes. Also the way he moves, or doesn't move. There's a stillness about him, like he's waiting for something. It's eerie Addison. And I can tell you, everyone around him senses it too. That man gets a wide berth wherever he goes."

"You've seen him often?" she asked, curious now about the mysterious man.

"Not often, but whenever Tyson King mixes with the orchestra set, and I happen to be out schmoozing for donations."

She grinned and leaned back in her armchair, crossing her legs. "But you do it so well, Charles. And we so appreciate your efforts on our behalf."

He groaned. "It would go so much easier if I had a beautiful woman on my arm. One who wasn't half bad at the cello."

She shouted with laughter and hurled a pillow in his direction. She could tell he caught it, which was probably a good thing, considering her aim wasn't the best. "I'm the best string you have, and don't you forget it, old man!" she settled back in her chair and pulled her legs under her to sit cross-legged. "Now tell me, what does this frightening Daniel guy do for Tyson King? I'm curious! I wonder if I've run into him in the building, like in the elevator or something." She shivered.

"He's King's head of security. I heard King hired him after Mercer saved his life. No doubt King offered him an obscene amount of money for the job."

Addison leaned her head back into the cushion and tried to picture what a man like that might look like. Was he big and scarred? Or was he handsome in a rugged sort of way? She could usually formulate some kind of picture in her mind of what a person looked like. She found herself curious to meet Daniel Mercer for herself now in a more formal way. He seemed- interesting.

"He must be really good at his job," she murmured with a yawn. "Or Mr. King wouldn't've given him the time of day, let alone bucketfuls of money to come work for him. I wonder what he's like?"

"What he's like," said Maestro firmly, "is not for a gentle young woman like yourself to wonder about. Now, its time for me to get back to Marilyn Monroe and for you to get some sleep so you don't make my orchestra sound like crap come Monday."

Addison smiled and stood to show the Maestro out. He leaned down and gave her the customary good-bye peck on the lips. She was used to his quick, fatherly caress and gently closed the door and locked it behind him. She yawned and stretched, reaching for the light.