The Billionaire's Twins Play Matchmaker novel Chapter 9

Macey made sandwiches for the kid’s lunch still silently debating. Having someone she could trust to watch the children would definitely be an advantage. Her list of reliable babysitters was extremely short and all of them were in Paris. But did she dare open herself up to the DaLair family drama that was sure to ensue. Augustus was bad enough but what would she do once she faced March and Julius?

Suddenly her phone rang. For a moment she was afraid it was Rose. Very few people had her number after all. After seeing the caller ID Macey relaxed. She picked it up without further hesitation.

“Hello Syl, what’s up?”

“I’m so sorry to be bothering you at home but there’s a problem with the new installation.”

Macey pursed her lips together saying, “Are you sure you need me? I mean I have the kids and I’d rather not drag them into the middle of a construction area.”

“What if I send my assistant? She can babysit while you help me.”

Macey hesitated, “Is your assistant responsible?”

“Yes. Yes. Of course!”

“…Okay.”

Twenty minutes later there was a knock at the door. Macey answered to see a young lady no more than twenty-five dressed in a rather short skirt considering she was meant to be assistant curator. Still who was she to judge? Macey had met a number of characters since starting her career.

“Hello, are you Teresa?”

“Yep.” The woman looked bored.

“Won’t you come in,” Macey led her to the living room where the kids ate their lunch at the coffee table. “This is Aria and Caden. They’re finishing their lunch now so they shouldn’t be any problem until I come back.”

“Sure.”

“…Okay. Aria, Caden be good until I come back.”

“Okay mommy!”

Still nervous Macey headed out. It was only a short drive to the gallery. Hopefully the installation wouldn’t take long and she would be home soon.

Once Macey was gone the newly appointed babysitter sat down with a huff. Babysitting rugrats was not her idea of a good time and certainly not something she signed up for when she applied to be an assistant curator. She had plans to surround herself with famous artists and hopefully catch their eye. Taking out her phone she immediately zoned out as she browsed websites.

Aria and Caden finished their lunch and colored a bit longer as they observed their inattentive babysitter. Trading silent looks they eventually stood.

“Excuse me Miss Babysitter we’re going to take a nap now,” Aria declared.

“Fine. Whatever.”

Satisfied the twins made their way towards the hall that led to the bedrooms. They paused looking back to see their babysitter absorbed in her phone. With a nod they turned and scurried to the front door. Slipping on shoes they quietly opened the door and stepped outside.

Hurrying to the sidewalk Aria paused and asked, “Did you get the information from auntie’s phone?”

Caden nodded, “I got uncle and daddy’s phone numbers and their work numbers too. I looked it up on mommy’s computer. They work at the DaLair office downtown.”

“So how are we going to get there?” Aria asked.

“Subway.”

“The what? You mean the Métro?”

“Here they call it a subway,” Caden shrugged.

“Americans are weird,” Aria sighed.

Hand in hand with her brother they walked down the street. Caden seemed to know where he was going and a five minute walk later they reached stairs leading underground. They traveled the Métro many times with their mother and were a little apprehensive that they didn’t have her Métro card as they approached the turn styles.

They walked underneath them without issue and hurried on. Caden paused at the map to confirm their train before pulling his sister onto one. Aria happily seated herself on a bench and Caden crawled up beside her. The pair held hands as the train pulled away from the station. Though they received several curious glances no one bothered the pair. They sat silently observing the people around them until the gentle rock of the train lulled them to sleep.

A sudden jolt as the train came to a stop woke the pair. They took in their surroundings with a note of surprise before remembering their mission. Neither was particularly panicked.

“Are we almost there?” Aria suddenly asked.

“Hmm. I’m not sure,” Cade answered. “Everything looks the same.”

Normally falling asleep on the Métro wasn’t an issue because their mother stayed awake watching for their stop. Without her they simply had no idea how long they had slept, how many stops they passed or even if they missed their destination.

“What should we do?”

“Let’s get off and find a map.”

Aria followed her brother off the train. This station was much more crowded than the last and they had to scurry out of the way of the other commuters. There were several in business suits which gave Caden some semblance they hadn’t missed their stop. Yet everyone was in such a hurry which made it difficult to ask questions. This was a sharp contrast to the French commuters they were used to. After several moments the train departed and they were still not sure of their location.

“Maybe we should ask le policier for directions,” Aria suggested.

“They might take us to a station and have mommy pick us up there,” Caden said.

“Right.”

That would defeat the whole purpose of their plan.

As they fell into silent debate a new sound attracted them to a corner where a rather lanky, African-American played the saxophone. His clothing was haggard and faded but his instrument glistened indicating it was well cared for. Though he preferred Beethoven Caden appreciated all music. In fact they knew a street performer in Paris who often played the jazz.

“Look Caden,” Aria pointed to a keyboard that had been set up on top of its case resting on the ground. “Do you suppose he’ll play that next?”

Caden wasn’t sure. At the man’s feet was his saxophone case. Inside was money tossed by the crowd but it added up to a paltry sum. Perhaps he was meant to have a friend to perform alongside of him.

“Caden, you should play with him,” Aria reached the same conclusion. “Then maybe he’ll tell us how to get to daddy’s work.”

Caden considered the logic before nodding. It was worth a shot. Besides he sometimes played with their friend when they met him on the street. The crowd usually warmed up once the five-year-old joined the performance.

* * *

Franklin finished his last song with a flourish. He glanced down at the case with a grimace. Playing in the subway started on a whim and as a social experiment. He tested a number of music genres to see if there was a difference in how much money he earned. So far his results were inconclusive.

He intentionally dressed in thrift store finds to play the part of a street performer. Franklin was actually classically trained and a much sought after concert pianist and orchestral saxophone player. He was employed as a music instructor at the most prestigious educational facilities, although he had the clout to pick and choose the students he directly tutored. If the people rushing by him now knew that would they stop to listen?

Lost in thought he didn’t see the two small forms as they moved closer. He didn’t stir until he heard someone run their fingers down the keyboard creating a cascading sound that begged for attention. Franklin was jolted back to reality and turned to see a young boy kneeling at the keyboard.

Grinning, the boy’s green eyes shined with amusement at his surprise. Maintaining eye contact he began to play Cheek to Cheek by Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald.

Franklin’s astonishment turned to admiration for the boy’s playing. His skill was apparent. After a moment Franklin joined him with the saxophone. Not only was the boy’s playing excellent but it was filled with exuberant emotion and true passion for the music that quickly garnered them a crowd. Soon dollars floated into the case where it once only held a few coins.

Once the song ended Franklin challenged him by playing the opening to L-O-V-E by Nat King Cole. Without hesitation the boy answered the challenge by playing along. Despite his young age he seemed to be an encyclopedia of music.

As they played Franklin noticed the redhead girl standing close by smiling at the boy. He wondered if they were related. Once they finished the boy continued into the next song. The opening bars were simple and Franklin quickly recognized it: What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong.

The boy’s playing was fantastic but Franklin wasn’t prepared for the girl to start singing in a clear, charming voice. He didn’t recover from his shock until the second verse and finally joined in with his saxophone.

I see trees of green

Red roses too

I see them bloom

For me and you

And I think to myself

What a wonderful world

I see skies of blue

And clouds of white