Free Playing the Maestro by Aubrie Dionne Page A

scenic.”
    “It is.” Memories of all her old concerts with the Boston Youth Symphony and her time at NEC came to mind. “You chose well.”
    They entered the traffic-clogged streets and fought their way to Mass Ave, where Melody spotted a parking spot on the street a block away.
    “Very resourceful.” Wolf winked at her before he jumped out and slid quarters in the meter. Melody stayed in the car and dug in her bottomless purse to help him. She only came up with gum wrappers, a Tic Tac, and two old hair clips. Wolf came around and opened Melody’s door. He offered his hand. “Shall we?”
    Melody stepped out of the black Mustang, feeling like a million bucks. Not only had she arrived in style wearing a glamorous top, but the eye candy on her arm was the icing on the cake. If only her conservatory pals could see her now. She was fantasizing about bumping into the greasy-haired guitarist she dated her junior year, or Stacey Beck, the flute snob who coveted her chair.
    Remember, you’re not supposed to be seen with him. Melody thought about Carly, any board member, or Blake turning the corner and her nerves went into hyperdrive. At the same time, the rebellious side of her thrived on the risk she may be seen. Let them come. Wolf made her feel as though she could conquer the world.
    The white columns of the front of Symphony Hall came into view and Wolf smiled with a nostalgic look in his eyes. “Did you know this building was modeled after the second Gewandhaus concert hall in Leipzig, which was later destroyed in World War II?”
    “I’d read something about it in music history class, but I hadn’t really thought about what that meant to a German musician.”
    Wolf took her hand and squeezed. “It’s very special. I’m glad it’s here, Melody.”
    “You can call me Mel. That’s what everyone else calls me.”
    “Okay, Mel.”
    She liked the way it sounded in his heavy accent. So tragically melancholy, his deep voice made her feel as though there was no sidewalk and she could float away on the wind.
    Melody looked down at their hands intertwined, and ecstasy and fear both jolted up her spine.
    Wolf winked. “It’s for our disguise. They can’t know we’re spies from EHCS, right?”
    Melody relaxed and laughed at his excuse. “Spies, huh?”
    Wolf pulled her forward, not meeting her eyes. “Yes, exactly.”
    They visited the ticket booth, then took their seats in the balcony on the right. Built shallow to avoid muffling the sound, the balcony seats gave her a sense of vertigo. It felt as though if she leaned over far enough, she’d fall into the front row. Focusing on the horizon and not on the jump down, Melody took in her surroundings. The sides of the concert hall sloped inward toward the stage to funnel the sound. Above the stage was a golden plaque with Beethoven written across the front.
    Melody nudged Wolf and pointed to the plaque. “Should be Wolfgang.”
    Wolf chuckled. “I’ll let Beethoven have this one.”
    As Wolf flipped through the program, Melody studied the sixteen replicas of Greek and Roman statues lining the upper level of the hall’s walls. She picked out Euripedies from her Greek mythology class in high school, and Apollo Citharoedus because of his hand held harp.
    An older woman with short gray hair wearing a velvet dress sat beside Melody. She smiled and offered her hand. “Hi. I’m Beverly, and my husband, Ralph, is over there.” She pointed to an older man in a business suit taking pictures of the statues.
    “Nice to meet you, Beverly.” Melody shook her hand. “I’m Mel, and this is Wolf.” Beverly’s smile widened when she shook Wolf’s hand. His charisma even had an effect on older women, Melody thought with a smile.
    “Do you come to concerts often?” Melody folded her concert program in her lap.
    “We’re season ticket holders.” Beverly smiled as Ralph came to join them. “Ralph comes for the pictures—this hall is on the U.S. National Registry of