Every Beat Of My Heart. Kianna Alexander

stood. “You sure did. Is there anything else you need from me?”

      Gwen shook her head. “No, that’s all for now. I’ll have a contract drawn up for you to sign in a few days. In the meantime, it looks like you’ve won yourself some time off, since the Reedy case was dropped. So I’ll see you Monday.”

      With a wave, Lina departed and went back to her own office.

      Inside the glass walled room, she closed all the blinds on the wall facing the corridor. Then, when she was sure none of her colleagues could see her, she kicked off her pumps and performed a Running Man move that would have put any Soul Train dancer to shame.

      The pinging of her email program, which was open and running on her computer, grabbed her attention. She shimmied over to the desk and took a seat. There, on the screen, was a calendar reminder she’d set for herself several weeks ago. Reading the text, she grinned.

      She’d seen an article a while back on a social media site announcing an upcoming auction. After reading the article, she’d set the reminder because there was an item scheduled to be sold that she just had to have: a piano played by the legendary Thelonious Monk.

      The auction would take place tomorrow night, and the timing couldn’t be better. Between her savings and the substantial raise she’d soon be getting as Lerner Law’s newest senior partner, she would be in a position to make a competitive bid on the piano. And when she got her hands on it, she planned to have it delivered straight to her mother, Carla.

      Carla had been in poor spirits lately, as age and stress had conspired to cause her health to decline. But Lina knew that owning the piano played by her very favorite musician would do wonders on raising her mother’s spirits. Lina had been treated to Monk’s music from the cradle. She didn’t know anyone who appreciated Monk’s artistry the way her mother did.

      Except for Rashad, her traitorous thoughts reminded her.

      She sighed as she thought of her ex-flame. He’d been in her life for only a few weeks before she’d become unable to put up with his secretive ways. As a woman who’d already endured the humiliation of a cheating spouse and a failed marriage, she craved transparency and openness. Rashad had seemed unable, or unwilling, to provide that, so she’d walked away from him. And just as she always did when her personal life went awry, she’d thrown herself into her work. Only this time, her immersion in work had paid off in a big way.

      Pushing aside thoughts of Rashad and his tight-lipped behavior, she began gathering her things. A three-day weekend in early June was a rare treat, and she intended to enjoy it. She’d kick back for the rest of the evening, then spend her Friday planning the perfect strategy for winning the bidding and securing Monk’s piano for his biggest fan: her mama.

      Once she’d packed up, she grabbed her phone and purse and strode out the door.

      * * *

      Rashad MacRae ran a hand over his face, stopping at his mouth to stifle a yawn. A glance at the wall clock hanging across from him showed that it was eleven minutes past six. He should have left the courthouse over an hour ago. Summertime meant an increase in marriages, and as an assistant register of deeds for Mecklenburg County, the influx of paperwork always landed on his desk.

      Stamping his name on the last few pieces of paper needing his approval, he stood from behind his desk and stretched his arms above his head, hoping to ease the tightness in his shoulders. He strode across the room to the single-cup coffeemaker he kept atop a bookcase and set it to make a cup. The way he was feeling, he would need the jolt of java to keep him awake for his commute home.

      While the coffee brewed, he filed away the papers he’d been working on and searched around for the day’s edition of the Charlotte Observer. He’d picked up a copy at lunch, and even though he couldn’t see it amid the clutter on his desktop, he knew it was there somewhere. After a bit of straightening up, he still couldn’t find it.

      He got his coffee, added a bit of sugar and sat back down at his desk. The first sip of the dark brew seemed to jump-start his memory, and he recalled where he’d stashed the newspaper. Opening the top drawer of his desk, he pulled it out. While he drank his coffee, he skimmed the front page. A small headline in the bottom right corner caught his attention.

      King’s Guitar, Monk’s Piano, Among Items to be Auctioned This Week. See Article, p. 6A.

      His eyes widened. Monk’s piano. Surely they didn’t mean... He quickly opened the paper to page 6A to read the article. Sure enough, the piano in question had once been played by Thelonious Monk, Mr. “’Round Midnight” himself.

      A smile spread across Rashad’s face. As a young musician, he’d looked up to Thelonious Monk, studying his style and recordings almost religiously. It was Monk’s artistry that first inspired him to put his hands to those eighty-eight keys. So owning a piano once played by the master himself would be a lifelong dream come true. He knew the piano would cost a pretty penny, but one couldn’t really put a price tag on a piece of musical history as significant as this.

      He pulled out his smartphone and opened the notes app, keying in the details of the location, time and date of the auction. As he did, he realized that the auction would be held the very next evening. Once he had the information saved to his phone, he tucked it away. Folding the newspaper, he went to tuck it back into the top drawer of his desk.

      As he slid the drawer open, the smiling face of a woman looked up at him.

      He lifted the photograph from the drawer and held it up.

      It had been taken last fall at his friend Darius’s wedding. It was of Lina looking gorgeous in her bridesmaid’s dress, smiling brightly for the camera. Behind her, he stood with his arms looped around her waist.

      They’d broken up months ago, but he hadn’t been able to part with the photo. She had looked so carefree, they both did. That day, they’d just started to explore what their mutual attraction could lead to. And it had led to plenty: plenty kisses, plenty smiles and plenty of good lovemaking. He’d started to fall for her, started to think about the possibility of becoming a one-woman man.

      Then her mistrust had reared its ugly head, derailing their relationship before it really had a chance to get established. She assumed that because he didn’t volunteer every mundane detail of his life, he was hiding something from her. She didn’t seem to understand that he just wasn’t one for discussing things in that way. She’d demanded to know everything about him, but he hadn’t been ready to reveal so much of himself. So she’d dropped him, walked away without a backward glance.

      What she didn’t know was that he’d never stopped thinking about her. She might have given up on their relationship, but he hadn’t. He’d stopped calling her once he realized she wasn’t going to speak to him, but he knew he’d get another shot. Charlotte was a large city, but not so large they wouldn’t eventually run into each other. And when they did, he intended for her to hear him out, just one more time. If she still didn’t want to see him, then so be it. But he had to try because deep inside, he knew she couldn’t resist the molten-hot physical attraction that had drawn them together in the first place.

      Smiling, he tucked away the newspaper and the photo. Lina was out there somewhere, and he would square things away with her soon enough. Right now, he had another mission.

      Come tomorrow night that piano was going to be his, and he didn’t care how much it cost.

       Chapter 2

      Lina arrived at the one-story building housing Cleveland and Wendell Auction House around four on Friday afternoon, a full two hours before the auction was set to begin. She wanted to make sure she got a good seat up front, where the auctioneer could easily see her paddle.

      There were many items up for sale at that night’s event, including paintings, antique furniture and even a few other musical instruments connected to some important person or another. Despite the impressive array, she was only interested in one thing: Monk’s