«The Tchaikovsky Affair»

© Marie Swift 2013

Cover Photograph: © Robyn Mackenzie | Dreamstime.com

The purchaser of this book is subject to the condition that he/she shall in no way resell it, nor any part of it, nor make copies of it to distribute freely.

This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and coincidental.

One

Shannon McClintock always loved the first day of the new concert season. She loved seeing familiar faces she had missed over the break and looked forward to meeting the new musicians. She also enjoyed the challenge the first few weeks always brought: figuring out how to work as a cohesive unit and learning new and exciting pieces. She could feel the collective enthusiasm in the air as she practically skipped into the New York Philharmonic’s spacious rehearsal room. This was the point in the season long before people began to get burnt out and exhausted from working long hours; the point before people began to show their true diva colors.

This year, however, she was doubly excited. Her hard work from last season had paid off and she had been given the highly sought after position of 1st violin and concertmaster. Being concertmaster of the New York Philharmonic was about as good as it gets. Added to the prestige was the fact that the featured piece of this season’s main concert was to be Tchaikovsky’s “Violin Concerto in D Major”, including one of the most impressive and technically difficult violin solos in all orchestral history. Solos were always awarded to the first chair of the appropriate section. With this solo, Shannon was sure to become a household name in the orchestral circles and possibly even on a larger scale. It was going to mean a lot of work, but she had been preparing for this moment since she touched her first half-sized violin at age four.

As she made her way to the back wall, Shannon greeted her colleagues with warm smiles. She stopped to chat to those she knew, asking about their breaks and their families, and politely introduced herself to those who were new to the ensemble. Finally reaching the wall, she placed her bag and violin case down, before kneeling and carefully lifting her Stradivarius from the case. After tightening her bow and rubbing rosin on it, she walked to the front of the room, as the rest of the orchestra dutifully took their seats. It was well recognized that when the concertmaster was ready to begin, you needed to be in your seat waiting for your cue. There was a well-respected tradition of punctuality and orderliness that helped everything run smoothly. As concertmaster, it was Shannon’s job to make announcements and discuss any administrative business for the day, tune and warm up the orchestra, and lead any sectionals before the director/conductor arrived. The key to the Philharmonic’s success was that it ran as a well-oiled machine. Just one person could bring this machine to a grinding halt by being disrespectful or disorganized. Not to mention the fact that their intimidating conductor, Antonio Gallo, did not tolerate beginning a rehearsal late.

Shannon glanced at her watch before proceeding to the podium, where she tapped the back of her bow on the metal stand to get everyone’s attention. At the sound, the entire ensemble ceased talking and warming up. After the last sounds reverberated off the walls, the hall fell to an eerie silence. Shannon briefly glanced around the room, taking in everyone’s appearances, and frowned at the sight of the empty 1st cello chair.

“Welcome back to our veterans and welcome home to our new members! For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Shannon McClintock, and I am concertmaster this season. We have a really awesome season ahead of us. It’s an ambitious repertoire, but it has the potential to be the best season the Philharmonic has ever seen. I’m sure I don’t need to tell any of you this, but it will take dedication, hard work, and perseverance. Clearly, none of us are strangers to hard work, but I wanted you all to know that – ”

At that moment, the clanging of the heavy metal door interrupted Shannon’s speech. She whipped her head around to glare at the offensive intruder.  Her gaze was met by the most piercing, soulful brown eyes she’d ever seen. Shannon gasped and allowed her self to gape for a few seconds, before remembering how rude this intrusion had been.  During her unrepentant leering, Shannon noted that the woman was more than just those expressive eyes; the straggler had flowing chestnut hair, full ruby lips, curves that most women would envy, and shapely legs that, even hidden under her dark-washed jeans, clearly went on for miles.

Mumbling an apology, the latecomer practically threw her merlot-colored cello case against the wall, before unbuckling the latches as fast as she could.

Of course her case has stickers all over it, Shannon thought to herself. How unprofessional.

“Please take your seat…” Shannon demanded, gesturing for the brunette to proffer her name.

“Jackie.”

“Please take your seat, Jackie.” Shannon reiterated, with a tight smile.