Windswept (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Diana MacArthur

closed her eyes, and began to play. As she did, she remembered the way Ryan and Chris had touched her. How their stroking began lightly, like the music. Soft, yet intense. Then as the piece built with crescendo after crescendo to its climax how the sensations they aroused in her had mirrored the music. And the final aching emptiness when they had stopped.
    She opened her eyes as the last note faded to find Professor Milton staring at her. She lowered the flute self-consciously. “Was that okay?” she asked nervously.
    Her teacher’s mouth just worked soundlessly for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “Cadence, that was more than okay,” he said to her. “It was brilliant! Passionate and poignant and absolutely moving. I am awestruck.”
    “Thanks,” Cadence murmured looking down. She couldn’t believe it. Was sex all she had needed to make her music more expressive? Somehow she didn’t think that was it. It was the specific memories of her men that she associated with the music, just as the memories of her mother flowed through her music at the piano.
    “Let’s hear the other pieces,” Professor Milton said eagerly.
    Cadence was nervous because she didn’t have the same intense emotions associated with these pieces. But she tried to do what Ryan and Chris had suggested. She closed her eyes and just felt the music while she played. To her delight, she was able to create more feeling in the other pieces as well.
    At the end of the lesson, Professor Milton said, “Well, Cadence, I think you are more than ready for your recital. We will have the accompanist here for the next few weeks to work with you as well. I’ll get the programs and flyers ready. I suggest you start with the Bach and finish with the Ibert. It was so powerful it will leave a strong memory with the adjudicators.”
    Cadence was happier than she had been for a while and finally felt more at ease with the upcoming recital and exams. She met Andrea in the common area, and they headed to the medical clinic. Cadence’s appointment went well, and she left with three months worth of samples and a prescription for the pill.
    When she got into Ryan’s car, she leaned over and kissed him enthusiastically. He smiled at her. “Someone’s in a good mood,” he said. Cadence sighed and nodded. As they drove down the highway toward Cambridge, they talked easily with each other. Cadence couldn’t believe how comfortable she was with the men already. Ryan was very easy to talk to.
    They met Chris at a restaurant near the theatre for dinner. Cadence balked when she saw the prices, so Chris pulled the menu away and ordered for her. When she began to protest, he interrupted her. “Cadence, stop,” he said. “I know you are a student and used to worrying about money, but you don’t need to now. We will take care of you, and we don’t mind spoiling you with a nice dinner.”
    “You know, I had a question about that,” Cadence replied. “How is it that a symphony musician and a private school teacher can afford the condo and the nice cars and all the splurging?”
    Ryan smiled. “You didn’t do your research into us, did you?”
    Cadence bit her lip. She probably should have found out a little more about these men before she began sleeping with them. But being around them seemed to cause her common sense to desert her.
    “My mother was Judith Fisher,” Ryan told her.
    Cadence’s eyes widened. The Fisher family was one of the wealthiest in Canada. They owned a supermarket chain—actually more of a dynasty because they had bought out several smaller chains along the way. Judith Fisher was famous in her own right because she had been a talented opera singer with the Canadian Opera Company. Sadly, she had been killed in a car crash eight years previous. As she remembered, her eyes locked on Ryan’s, and she saw her own pain at the loss of her mother mirrored in him. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes as she realized they had this in common.