Stella hadn't seen Anton  since the concert evening. After he ushered Chloe into his apartment and bussed her on the cheek goodnight before she walked upstairs alone, she hadn't seen him. She didn't see it as a kiss. At some point she would have, but not anymore. She avoided him, didn't let Tesla out of the apartment even though the big cat was in a big snit about it, alternately trying to guilt her into letting him out by meowing piteously, and at other times avoiding her altogether and shunning her presence.<i>et tu brute?</i>It couldn't be helped, she decided, and it was better this way. She would be moving out anyway once this six month lease was done, she wasn't sure if she'd move to another city or stay but live on the other end of town.  One of her colleagues at the symphony had a small condo which would become available around that time and would give her first dibs. It was a nice newer building, but she knew she would miss the older building she lived in now. Still, a clean sweep was best, if nothing else, for Tesla.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>The day after the concert she had made a stop at the Symphony to pick up that box of chocolates.  As she had sat down on a bench she admired the package before opening it. It wasn't a large box, about four by six and three inches deep. The wrapping was a thick, and expensive artisanal looking matte, black paper. The corners and edges were expertly shaped, and tape, if there was any, was one of those double sided kind that didn't show. She was no slouch at gift wrapping, but this took some skill. The box was decorated with a broad black ribbon of a somewhat shinier material, shot through with gold thread. A gilded twig had been eased through the knot. Stella took a picture of the box first as it was so pretty she didn't want to forget how lovely it looked, then she opened it carefully preserving the lovely ribbon and twig, and paper. These things could, after all, be reused. Inside the paper was a sturdy, box which had a lovely marbled texture in varying shades of grey and gold. And there was a small card. The envelope was a linen cream texture and she opened it with some excitement.<br/><br/><i>"Bravissimo! Whether Jazz or Classical, you delight the senses. Please do me the honor of accepting my small gift as a token of thanks for the great pleasure I get from watching and listening to you play and sing so beautifully."</i><br/><br/>It was written in a bold, yet flowing handwriting, and signed, much like the card which came with the extravagant bouquet,<i>A Secret Admirer</i>.<br/><br/><i>Wow</i>, thought Stella,<i>I only hope you didn't blow your monthly salary on the flowers and now this.</i>She removed the lid of the box and on top of a square of fine linen fabric, embroidered with delicate flowers, a handkerchief? sat a necklace. It was a slender silver chain and at the end hung a teardrop shaped, soft cream colored, natural pearl. Stella stared at it speechless. How could she possibly accept such a thing? Was it real? She almost hoped not, this was rather over the top. She picked it up and felt the warm, smooth texture of the pearl, and the cool metal of the thin chain. Could she? She placed the chocolate to the side and saw inside the lid a sticker of a chocolatier with a New York address. Goodness! She could smell the chocolates of course, a warm, beguiling scent which convinced her to, without further ado, pick one of them up and admire it. The truffles were placed in marbled, dark grey paper cups and looked so perfect it seemed almost a shame to bite into one. Almost.<i>mmmmmmm</i>, she groaned, as the rich flavor and silky confection hit her taste buds.<br/><br/>----<br/><br/>She still had three chocolates left at home, but right now she was reviewing some lyrics for a few new pieces she was introducing. After much debating with herself,  Stella had decided to wear the necklace tonight .  She was wearing a glittering steel grey, body hugging, straight dress which was ankle length but split on the left side from mid thigh down. It was pretty daring in her book, but then she was a Jazz lounge singer, and she had grown more confident from her job. The neckline was off shoulder with a cowl and her hair was piled on top in a relaxed, artfully messy chignon she had begun wearing. It was everything she loved in a hairstyle. It was cute, easy to do, and sexy. Tendrils of her red tresses framed her face.  Being Friday evening, the place was hopping and she headed out to a smattering of applause and began playing the first piece with her fellow musicians. As her eyes adjusted to the dim lights, and she said good evening to the crowd, she saw, at a far table behind her Magdalene with the blond Viking. It had been some weeks since last she saw her and Magdalene looked happy enough with him. The haughty Latina of course did not acknowledge her, why would she? after all last time she had played and sung a song about cheating.<br/><br/>She had her routine down and after three songs took a few requests, most of which tended to be predictable crowd pleasers. From the corner of her eye though, she saw the man in the shadows rise and with easy strides walk up to her.<br/><br/>"A duet perhaps? And that is a lovely necklace you are wearing."<br/><br/>It was all Stella could do not to gape at him.<br/><br/>"I uh, oh my it's you then, why, uh yes, do you sing?"<br/><br/>"Only when I had a few shots of Bourbon, and yes, I am set."<br/><br/>The man was tall, but not overly so, shorter than Anton, but well proportioned. He had an angular face, with his a jaw perhaps a tad too prominent. His eyes were a startling blue, and his mouth smiled in a sort of crooked, off kilter way which was utterly charming.<br/><br/>"Well, do you know 'I won't dance' she said grinning up at him after she had swallowed the nervous lump in her throat.<br/><br/>There it was the charming smirk again, "Oh well, do we start it of that way then?"<br/><br/>His voice was a honey smooth baritone and Stella had to tamp down a nervous flutter in her belly. This was her secret admirer?  He was dressed in dress slacks, a dark purple shirt, a satin waistcoat, and a sports jacket over it. He knew how to dress well for sure. But he wasn't Anton.<br/><br/><i>Forget Anton, he is a figment of your imagination. He has women to choose from, women like the delicate Chloe, the sultry, sexy Magdalene. </i>She looked and caught Magdalene's eye but quickly looked away. The woman was watching the whole thing with a lot of interest, a smirk on those luscious lips. Stella looked away and back at the man who was standing there looking down at her. He wasn't as beautiful as Anton, but he was pleasant to look at. And he was looking at her with a whole lot more interest than Anton ever had.<br/><br/>Stella knew this was taking too long after a word with the rest of the musicians began to play, and then sing. The secret admirer joined in on his cue and to her surprise he really was a fair singer. More than fair actually, he was pretty good. He needed to work on his breath control, and pauses, but he did well and he didn't scoop like so many singers did when reaching for a note.<br/><br/>And apparently... the crowd loved it. Stella and the secret admirer grinned at each other and then he said, "now I get to suggest a song. "<br/><br/>"Oh, you do?" Stella realized that she was enjoying herself. "Hmmmm, how about you introduce yourself first?"<br/><br/>The man turned towards her and extended his hand, "Peter Guthrie, at your service. Now the song I want is 'You get me' and then I'll go back to my table and behave myself. That is if you promise to have dinner with me after the show."<br/><br/>"Oh, we're setting terms now?"<br/><br/>"Hey, can we get some music in this Jazz joint?" Someone yelled from a table, and Stella blushed.<br/><br/>"Coming up!" She said loudly, and blew the man who had yelled a kiss. Hoots and hollers followed and the musicians who had been listening began to play a rendition of 'You get me.'<br/><br/>Two verses in Stella saw someone she had not expected to come to this place. It was Anton, and he was alone. There was no Chloe, no other woman on his arm. He looked so handsome, and her heart skipped a beat, and her fingers apparently did too because she flubbed a key which made the man who had been looking down at her as he was singing, leaning over the piano, look up and follow her gaze. She didn't see it, but a shadow crossed his eyes as he beheld the man who had clearly rattled her.<br/><br/>Anton, here? Why? They hadn't talked since the concert night when he followed Chloe into the apartment and let her walk alone upstairs.  What was he doing here?