Perfect Pitch Read Online Free PDF Page B

the Ball Game . The words bounced across the scoreboard as the organ played. Standing beside Sam, Daniel belted out the song. His enthusiasm was infectious, and she found herself singing along, without any of her earlier concerns about the national anthem, her worries about the key of B-Flat, about the dangers of a high F.  
    Daniel seemed to draw strength from her performance; he doubled his own efforts. Many children’s voices would have grown sharp and screechy, pushed to their limits that way. Daniel, though, was blessed with a gorgeous treble. Together, they leaned into the last three notes as the ballpark organist drew them out: “Old… Ball… Game!”
    They high-fived each other at the end of the song, then settled companionably into their seats. The child’s obvious love of the seventh-inning song reminded her of other kids she’d seen, other youngsters who had brightened at the touch of music. That was what Musicall was all about, of course. That was why she was so determined to bring the program to schools.
    Everyone in the suite cheered when the Rockets won by one run in the ninth. The men clapped each other’s backs, and Anna gracefully accepted the congratulations of her guests. A number of those visitors turned to Sam as well, thanking her for attending. She blushed at the praise for her singing voice, and she complimented the team on their great win.
    She was ready to head for the door when a familiar voice sent a tremor down her spine. “Did you get the whole game, Trey?”
    She turned slowly, willing her heart to stop hammering in her chest. There was DJ, looking down at his son’s scorebook. His hand rested easily on the boy’s shoulder as he leaned closer to decipher one particularly complicated notation from a late-inning play. He straightened and offered a fist bump. “Good job, Trey.”
    And then he caught her staring at him. Gaping, rather. Like a fish caught on a line. She swallowed hard and said, “Daniel was great company during the game.”
    Pride flashed in DJ’s eyes. “Maybe that means you’ll have dinner with us tonight?”
    “Oh, I couldn’t!” she protested automatically. Actually, her lips formed the words, and her lungs squeezed them past her vocal cords. But even as she spoke, she was thinking, “Yes, I’d love to!”  
    She couldn’t have dinner with a married man. Not when she’d be thinking about all the wicked things they could do together, if he were available. She’d just about succeeded in turning around this whole Summer Queen fiasco. The Fair and the Rockets would have her hide if she created a scandal now.
    Daniel looked as crest-fallen as she felt. “Please, Miss Samantha,” he said.
    Was that a grateful look DJ threw to his son? The pitcher put on an easy smile and asked, “How can you ignore a polite boy like that? Please, Miss Samantha? Let me give my personal thanks for your helping me out of this jam.”
    “The Summer Fair…” she said, before she trailed off. She didn’t want to make any excuses. Nevertheless, she tried again. “It’s not appropriate… They have rules …”
    DJ’s eyebrows peaked. “Rules? Against the Summer Queen eating in a public restaurant? With a ten-year-old boy as a chaperone?”
    Rules against the Summer Queen day-dreaming about ripping the clothes off her dinner companion , Sam wanted to say.  
    But DJ was right. Daniel would be there. A reminder that DJ was already spoken for. A reminder that all of Sam’s silly fantasies were just that—daydreams that she’d told herself because she’d been stressed about her national television debut.
    “All right,” she said, and she was rewarded by Daniel’s uncomplicated grin. “Dinner would be lovely.”
    She issued strict orders to her body not to respond when DJ nodded his thanks. She told her lungs to stop hyperventilating at the chance that he might brush against her as he held open the door to the suite. She told her heart to stop pounding when he reached in