Russell Brooks - Pandora's Succession

She heard a set of rhythmic chords on a piano from inside the room she was headed to. As she opened the doors, the chords grew to a crescendo and then diminished. Parris thought that this was the cue for an operatic singer to join in, but she only saw a pianist in front of a baby grand piano. She closed the doors quietly so as not to disturb the player who had his back to her.

Parris looked around the room. It had high ceilings, about thirteen feet high, and the floor was hardwood. In one corner a fifteen inch television was turned on and muted. There was also a small wooden coffee table and two chairs with armrests. The furniture looked European. She felt the television set was out of place. Where’s Ripley?

The pianist then stopped abruptly, as though he was in error. Parris looked at him as he played the same section over. Again, he stopped.

“Fuck!” Parris heard the pianist say. He can’t be an employee. The pianist appeared to notice her and glanced over his shoulder.

“Hey, there.”

Parris slightly tilted her head to the side. “Mr. Ripley?”

“You’re talking to him. Any trouble finding the place?”

“No. It was a bit out of the way for me, but not much trouble getting here.”

“Good. What kind of tea would you like?”

Instead of answering, she continued to stare at him as she approached him slowly. That voice, should I know him? The melodious texture of his voice numbed her mind.

“Dr. Parris,” he said a bit louder. He continued to play, but more quietly.

“Yes,” she replied as she swung her purse over her shoulder.

“Your tea? They have all kinds.”

Oh what the hell, just say anything. “Jasmine.”

“Will that be Oolong Jasmine Tea or Green Tea with Jasmine bulbs?” came a voice. Parris turned around and saw Sora smiling in the doorway.

“I’ll have the Oolong.”

“And I’ll have the Earl Grey Pot de Creme,” said the pianist. Sora bowed and then left, closing the doors behind her.

The man stopped playing, swung around in his swivel chair to face her, and stood. Parris felt a cold shiver ripple through her, and she swore that her heart rate tripled. It’s him. What’s his face? The man from Germany who claimed to be in Washington on business when she met him at Max’s Pub in DuPont Circle in D.C. almost two years ago. Only now, he didn’t have a German accent, nor the blonde, shoulder-length hair. The man in front of her had trimmed, auburn hair. He was still clean-shaven and had the same square jaw.

She walked to him and stopped less than an arm’s length from him, close enough to smell his cologne. Lord, he’s still wearing the same cologne. “Who are you?”

“The name’s Ridley Fox, and yes, that’s my real name. But you can call me Ridley.” Fox smiled and extended his hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Nita.”

Parris’s kept her hands to her side. “What are you doing here?”

Fox lowered his hand. “Hoping to find the same thing you’re looking for.”

“Really? And what do you know about what I’m looking for?”

“Your partner, Tomas Levickis, ran a database search on a man I’m after. You saw him at Hexagon.”

Parris paused. Her heart was still racing but she managed to bring it under control as she looked into his clear, hazel eyes. She sighed with a smirk. “Really?”

“The Boeisho is trying to keep tabs on me. You don’t have to worry. I already checked the surroundings, there’s no sign of them.”

She looked back up at Fox and went to smack him but he caught her wrist. Damn, he has quick reflexes.

“As I said, it’s nice to see you again, Dr. Parris.” She kicked him in his left shin. Fox dropped down on one knee. “Jesus, woman! What’s gotten into you?”

Parris turned around and stormed away for a few steps, paused, and then walked back to him with gnashing teeth.

“Nice to see you too, Ridley,” she said with a menacing emphasis on his name. “You can’t imagine how long I’ve been waiting to do that. Tell me, Ridley, was it fun? Toying with me the way you did?”

Fox shook his head. “I didn’t mean for that to happen, it just did.”

“Is that all you have to say? You stood me up? Sure, it can happen. Guess what? After I waited on you for almost two hours. I left, only to be carjacked and beaten up at gunpoint on my way home. Do you know how many weeks of counseling I had to go through?”

“I was called on assignment. I-”

“I’ve had my emotions messed with in the past by other men, long before I was part of any agency. You had a responsibility then, as you do now, and trying to get involved with me was very irresponsible. Now get up, I didn’t kick you that hard.”

“I beg to differ.”

Parris didn’t reply.

“Great. Of all the women I could’ve met, it had to be the one who holds grudges,” muttered Fox.

“I heard that. And yes, I can hold a grudge.”

“It was an observation.”

“Sure, fine, whatever.” Parris looked over the table that was set for both of them. On it was a nice little bonsai plant, a lit candle, and some cutlery on a white cloth napkin. She looked back, over in the corner where the television was, and only then did she notice what was on. It looked like Curly, Larry, and Moe. She looked at Fox in bewilderment. “ The Three Stooges? ”

“I kind of like that show, all the old shows actually. The Avengers comes on later, and oh, you just missed I-Spy,” Fox said as he took a few steps.

“So this is how you spend your free time when there aren’t any women to toy with? Watching reruns?”

“I’m actually quite diverse,” Fox said with a Barbadian accent.

If that was a way for him to get her attention, he just got it.

“Yeah, and trying to play the piano too, I noticed.”

“Hey, I wish I had the time to play the piano and the violin as much as I did when I was younger,” continued Fox without the accent.

“So, you’re an amateur musician.”

“What do you think so far?”

“I can’t say. I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Fox paused and shrugged his shoulders with a slight chuckle as though his feelings were hurt.

I couldn’t care less for how he felt.

Fox walked back to the piano, sat down, and played a different tune. It was more thunderous and definitely less romantic and gentle than what he had played before. Parris wasn’t a connoisseur of modern piano music, but she was sure she’d never heard that piece. She walked over to the back of the baby grand. “Why’d you do that?”

Fox looked up, but not enough for her to see below his eyes. They had lost some of their warmth. “Do what?”

“Change tunes.”

“Oh, you noticed?” Fox’s eyes disappeared as he lowered his head. “I thought you weren’t paying attention.”

“Not entirely.” She advanced two steps along the side of the baby grand and stopped. “But I prefer it to what you’re playing now.”

“You could’ve fooled me. I thought that was your way of telling me that I suck.”

“I wasn’t. I…I’m just not familiar with classical music. Who composed it?”

“Some noteworthy composer,” Fox answered. “We all have ways of dealing with stress and our emotions. Some people swing a golf club, others go to the firing range, as for me, I’ll play an instrument.”

Parris took a step closer. She wanted to see into his eyes. She watched as he kept playing, although now, it was more like he was banging on the keyboard. She wouldn’t yell above the piano. But a few moments later, he seemed to calm down. What he played now almost sounded like what he played earlier. Was this his way of reaching out to her? My God, is he playing this to impress me? He looked up at her again and she felt a dryness at the back of her throat that made her immediately look away from him.