Without Pretense Read online

  ***

  After Ava left for rehearsal, Bianca wandered around the grounds, lingering at a clutch of tall pines and then gazing out at the Berkshires that rise on the horizon over the tall hedges at the back of the property. She had been nervous that if Ava remembered her at all, she wouldn’t forgive her for disappearing. Ava made it easier than she thought possible to reconnect. She had wanted to tell her why she was there, but Ava hadn’t given her a chance. She had only wanted to make sure the two of them could get together later.

  She hoped when Ava discovered the other reason Bianca reappeared in her life she wouldn’t send her packing. She really did want to learn more about the talented Ava Wellington and not simply because it was her job now.

  As she watched Ava play, the music from her violin flowed over Bianca like a waterfall surrounding her with sound and beauty. The emotion Ava conveyed with her instrument could easily consume or soothe her by equal measure. Hers was a singular talent and Bianca was intrigued by Ava. She wanted to get to know the woman behind the music. She had come back, at the invitation of Ava’s manager, to write her biography.

  Would Ava feel betrayed that Bianca hadn’t told her the real reason she had come back into her life? She certainly had not anticipated the kiss Ava had given her that afternoon. That kiss still had Bianca stirred up and her lips tingling. It had been a sweet, tender kiss, but Bianca was absolutely sure there was nothing simple about it.

  Chapter Two

  Ava stared Hank down as they faced off in her dressing room after the show. “Why did you hire a biographer when I’d explicitly told you not to?”

  “I still don’t understand why you are so upset. This will be a good boost for your career. It will get your name out there.”

  “First of all, my name doesn’t need to be out there more than it already is. I don’t need more recognition or fame. I just want to play my music. But more importantly, you don’t know anything about me or my life. You have no right to hire a biographer without my knowledge. I told you I didn’t want a biography written and that should have been the end of the story. Why did you go behind my back like this?”

  “Because you wouldn’t listen to me and you need this.”

  “Why do I need my biography written?”

  “Ava, at thirty-three, you’re just another violinist. I’m sorry if that’s harsh, but it’s true. You’re no longer the young prodigy solo violinist headlining shows at seventeen. People don’t see you as special anymore. But you still are. You’re still relevant and you’re still a genius on the violin. People need to see that in you and this is the way to make them invested in who you are now. You said yourself just last month that there needs to be more positive lesbian role models for children. Think of how many young lives you might positively impact if we get your story out there. Not the tabloid version of you, but the real you.”

  Hank’s answer surprised her. Ava had said that about role models, but she didn’t think Hank was actually listening to her at the time. The problem was she didn’t want her life story told. At least not all of it. The thought more than terrified her. There was only one thing that had ever scared her more in her entire life. That was when she found out she was pregnant at sixteen and she had to figure out what to do about it.

  “On top of that, you’re always excited to share classical music with new people. You love teaching young musicians. This could be an avenue to do more of that as well,” Hank said.

  He was very convincing and made excellent points. There was a reason she had hired him to be her negotiator in business matters. Still, nothing he said or could say changed the fact that Ava had a secret and she would do anything to keep it hidden. If the truth came out, it would hurt the people she loved the most. She had to admit, though, a lot of good could come out of this if it was handled the right way. “I control the narrative,” she said with resolution.

  Hank looked pained.

  “What’s the problem?” Ava asked.

  Hank bounced from foot to foot and looked like he wasn’t going to answer until he finally did. “It’s just that this won’t work as a fluff piece. Vega has a reputation for writing compelling and honest stories. Vega’s biographies move more people because they’re so real.”

  “So find someone else to write the damn thing,” Ava practically yelled. She took a deep breath. She needed to hear what Hank had to say. This was too important to fly off the handle. She struggled to keep her wits about her and figure out a way to either get out of this or make it work.

  “We can’t. Vega is the best. You want the best, don’t you?”

  Ava doubted she did in this case, but how could she explain that to Hank without telling him why? He wouldn’t believe her without a valid reason. He knew her penchant for wanting the best of everything.

  “Vega’s written biographies on celebrities that revealed drug and drinking problems nobody knew about before. Finding the untold story and bringing it to light. Vega also writes a compassionate story, which makes the readers sympathetic. It’s what makes the books so popular. Do you remember the Etheridge biography that came out last year?” Hank asked.

  “Vaguely.” Ava hedged. In truth she had read it three times. She wasn’t all that interested in Etheridge herself. Enough to have picked it up she supposed. But the writing had captivated her. The story was so well done, she found herself returning to it every so often.

  “Well, I’m sure you remember what a boon it was to her flailing career.”

  Not what she’d been thinking about. Reading that book always made her wonder about the author. Probably not the point of the story, but she did all the same. Hank was looking at her expectantly. “Sure. She seemed to be everywhere after that story came out. She was booked on all the late night shows, the daytime ones too, and I remember hearing her entire tour this past spring sold out.”

  “Vega wrote that story.”

  Some part of Ava must have known that. But right now, she had a bigger problem. There was no way she could let her secret come to light. “So, you don’t think this guy will play ball and keep out the parts I don’t want talked about?”

  “No, I don’t think she will. What do you have to hide anyway? You were a musical prodigy and you’re already out as a lesbian. What else is she going to find? It’s not like you have some deep dark past drug addiction I don’t know about, right?”

  Ava didn’t answer him right away. She was stuck on his use of the feminine pronoun. Now she was intrigued. “BJ Vega is a woman?”

  Hank smiled as if he’d just laid down his last card to win a big jackpot. He seemed to think he had her now. “She is.”

  That shouldn’t make a difference. Ava still didn’t want her biography written, at least not a tell-all. But somehow the fact BJ was female did matter to her. At the very least she wanted to meet the woman who wrote such compelling stories. Perhaps she could convince or charm BJ into not digging beyond what she wanted her to see. Because Hank did have a point about a biography being able to make her relevant for a younger generation, and that was important to her.

  “Okay. I will agree to a meeting, but I’m not saying yes yet.”

  “If you don’t do this, people will forget who you are. That is if they ever knew who you were in the first place.”

  “Ouch. Harsh.”

  “Look, my point is, with Vega’s reputation of telling relevant, revealing stories, her books soar to the top of the bestseller list as soon as they’re released. She can make you a household name. Once that happens, you can make classical music accessible to the masses.”

  “I said I would meet with her.”

  “Ava, you need this.”

  Ava glared at him, still not happy with how he went about things. “I will decide what I need. But I will consider your recommendation.”

  Before Hank could respond, they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” Ava said.

  Bianca entered and saw Ava had changed from the elegant gown she wo
re on stage into jeans and a button-down casual shirt over a cotton T-shirt. Hank stood a few feet from her. The tension in the room made Bianca feel as though she’d interrupted an intense conversation. “Sorry, I can come back,” Bianca said.

  “Wait,” Ava said.

  Hank held out his hand and waved her over. “Nonsense, your timing is perfect.”

  Bianca watched Ava’s expression change from warm and welcoming to one of confusion with Hank’s words.

  “Ava, I would like you to meet BJ Vega,” Hank said.

  Bianca couldn’t read Ava’s normally expressive features. She still had a job to do. She held out her hand. “Ms. Wellington, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Ava stared at Bianca’s hand and then raised her gaze to Bianca’s, but she said nothing.

  After several tense moments of awkward silence, Ava finally looked at Hank. “Why don’t you give BJ and me a few minutes?”

  Bianca heard the hard emphasis Ava placed on her initials and cringed. But at least she would have a moment alone with her to try to explain.

  Hank headed for the door. Bianca stepped out of his way and he was gone.

  Bianca moved no closer to Ava. The ball was in Ava’s court. She wasn’t even sure she was still in the game.

  “BJ?” Ava’s voice was a mixture of derision and hurt.

  Bianca didn’t want to think about those things. “Yes, it’s my professional name.”

  “You’re a biographer?” Ava sounded stunned.

  “I am. Unfortunately, given what I learned from Hank after I saw you this afternoon, I’m now aware you didn’t know he hired me.”

  “That’s true. He did it without my knowledge.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Hank led me to believe you were on board with this project.”

  “It seems that Hank has a lot to answer for. Why didn’t you tell me you were here for work when I saw you earlier?”

  “I told you the truth. I’m here because I want to get to know you better. I tried to tell you the rest, but you said nothing else mattered except that I wanted to go out with you. Had I known you didn’t know about me, I would have tried harder. I took you at your word.”

  Ava put her hands in her pockets. “Do you still want to go out with me tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  Ava took a step toward her. “Even if…”

  “Let me stop you right there.” This time Bianca took a step toward Ava. “My answer is still yes. No matter how many caveats you put on our date. I want to spend time with you.”

  Ava was within touching distance as she studied Bianca for several more moments. “Then let’s get out of here.”

  ***

  After following Bianca home so her car wouldn’t be locked on the grounds, Ava drove them a few miles down the road. She pulled her Wrangler into the parking lot of the Wet Whistle and turned to Bianca. “Ready?”

  “Should we talk about earlier?”

  “Later. Right now, I just want to have some fun.” Ava opened the door for Bianca. Once again, she held out her hand for Bianca to take and they walked into the dimly lit bar.

  The bouncer, John, gripped Ava in a tight hug. “Where you been, Ava?”

  Ava returned the fierceness of the hug. “Around, but I missed your face, so I thought I’d come by. John, meet Bianca.” John gave Bianca an equally tight hug and welcomed her. Ava and Bianca wound their way through the raucous horde of humanity on the dance floor. Ava was stopped more than once and similar exchanges took place.

  By the time she reached the bar, Bianca’s head was spinning. “Wow. You sure have a lot of friends here.”

  The smile that lit Ava’s face was telling. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen them.”

  “Why so long?”

  Ava shrugged and looked around before answering. “Well, with my travel schedule I’m not in this area all that much. Would you like a drink?”

  Bianca considered. “Why don’t we dance first and then get drinks when we need a breather.”

  “I love that plan. Come on.”

  Ava took Bianca’s hand and led her to the middle of the room. There wasn’t a dance floor per se. People just seemed to dance wherever they could find a couple feet of space. The energy was high and the classic rock music was loud. It wasn’t an environment conducive to talking, so they moved to the music, looking into one another’s eyes.

  When the music slowed, Bianca moved into Ava’s arms without any hesitation. Their bodies fit together perfectly. She was too close to meet her eyes, but also afraid of what her own might reveal in that moment. So she laid her head on Ava’s shoulder and moved with her to the music.

  When the band took a break, Ava led Bianca back to the bar. Moments after the bartender handed them their drinks, the lead singer picked Ava up from behind and crushed her in a bear hug. “Hey, stranger, what are you doing down here? You have to play a set with us.”

  Bianca looked between the two of them. Ava introduced Bianca to him and quickly explained. “Sometimes I play drums with the band.”

  It took some convincing from the rest of the band, but eventually Ava was ushered up to the stage where she took her place behind the drums. She counted off, and the band launched into the next set seamlessly. Ava played the drums with skill and precision.

  Bianca had so many questions. She had been hired to write a biography of Ava Wellington, world-class violinist. Where did this drummer fit into the story? Or did she? Not that Ava was all that happy about her life story being written in the first place. Bianca suspected if the two of them didn’t have a history, however brief it was, she wouldn’t be here now. Ava would not have acquiesced to her manager’s wishes, and Bianca would have been fired from her position of biographer before the job even started.

  She shook off her thoughts and refocused on Ava. She looked so natural behind the drum set. Maybe even more at home than she was on the Tanglewood stage in front of thousands of people holding the violin that had been a part of her life for so long. Bianca tried to make sense of the divergent parts of the woman she had really only just started getting to know. Somehow both sides of the woman fit like a glove.

  When Ava’s eyes found hers, she winked. Bianca’s heart raced and her throat went dry with desire. Ava looked back down to the drums. Bianca blew out a long breath and threw back the rest of her beer. Wow, this is going to be a very interesting six months, if it lasts that long.

  ***

  After they left the Wet Whistle, Ava drove a few miles down the road. She pulled into the empty gravel parking lot at the public boat slip of the Stockbridge Bowl. As she parked close to the water, she indicated a bench off to one side. “Sit with me?”

  “Of course,” Bianca said.

  Ava took a moment to take in the view of Lake Mahkeenac. The light of the nearly full moon bounced off its smooth surface. It was breathtaking. The gentle night breeze lifted Bianca’s curly black hair, and she ached to touch it. She kept her hands to herself, knowing if she reached out now, she would lose control of the conversation she needed to have. She studied Bianca’s beautiful profile. Her expression carefully blank. Over the years since she first met Bianca, Ava had imagined bringing her to this scenic spot more than once, but she never imagined figuring out what to say to her would be so difficult.

  “So, BJ, why did you agree to write my biography?”

  Bianca took a breath and a moment before answering. She turned to Ava and looked her in the eye. “Two years ago, I knew you were an extraordinary woman. From the moment we met, you were different from anyone I had ever encountered. You’re kind and compassionate, a singular talent, strong and tender, gorgeous.” Bianca blushed with that admission.

  “Thank you,” Ava said.

  “I’m not finished. You found a way to comfort me in one of my darkest hours. You gave me the gift of you and your music. From that first day, I knew you were special. Everything I have learned about you since then has simply confirmed that fact for me.”

  W
hen Ava opened her mouth again, Bianca stopped her by shaking her head slightly.

  “There’s more. When I was contacted about writing your biography, I’ll admit I was scared at first. What if I dug into your life and found something that made the grand image vanish? What if what I saw and experienced two years ago was a wonderful illusion? But I couldn’t stop wondering about who you were. I decided it was worth the risk. I wanted to get to know you better. Not only to write about your incredible life, but to know you. All of you…as deeply as you will let anybody see. That’s all a good biographer can do, get to the ‘you’ that you will allow people to see and share that with the world.”

  “What if I told you I don’t want you to write my biography?”

  “Just me or anyone?”

  “Anyone really. The biography was Hank’s idea.”

  “I would say, okay. I’m disappointed because I believe your story is worth sharing, but the best biographies of living people are written in cooperation with the subject. If you don’t want your story told, I’ll tell Hank I won’t do it. But I still want to get to know you for personal reasons, and I hope you’re open to that. If not, I’ll just have to admire you from afar and continue to listen to your music.”

  Ava studied Bianca’s even gaze. “You could really do that? Walk away from the job? From me?”

  Fierceness flashed briefly through Bianca’s deep brown eyes. “Please don’t misunderstand; walking away from you would not be a simple thing. But I like and respect you too much to try to change your mind if it’s made up. But the job…there are other jobs. I would love to write your biography, almost as much as I want to get to know you. But if me walking out of your life is what would make you happiest, then all I’d ask is you take me home and you’ll never have to see me again.”