“I sure hope my bank account can handle all this.”
“I sure hope so, too,” she said. “If not, we can use mine and you can pay me back. You’re going to need something nice for the media interview.”
“Wha—what? Media interview?”
She explained that this discovery would be news—the university would want to profit from it; this would put the music department on the map. It was an extraordinary story, and she expected even the Charlotte Herald would want to run an article. Maybe the local news would, too.
“I’d need to tell my mom,” he said.
“Of course. We’ll time it so you tell your family and then we’ll sit down with a reporter to break the story. But if you tell them now, I’d worry that somebody will leak it all over social media.”
This was all happening far too quickly.
His mind was already off, running down the rabbit hole of telling his mother. He was nauseous with nervousness. The rest of the family—Aunt Rochelle especially—would be thrilled, but he wondered how his mother would handle it. The Stradivarius wasn’t “noise” now, that was for sure.
The hotel was a few blocks away. Skyscrapers sprang up around them, and everywhere people dashed past, looking determined and energetic. Ray, in his faded jeans, with North Carolina all over him and a $10 million violin strapped to his body, had never felt so out of place. “This is all so much at once. You know?”
“I do, and it’s just the beginning.” She had been looking distractedly down at her phone several times. “When we get to the hotel, you check in and I’m going to use their business services for a sec.”
“No problem. Is there anything I can do?”
“Department bureaucracy. It’ll just take a few minutes. You can go up to your room and have a few minutes to yourself. I’ll text you when I’m ready and we can grab lunch. And then go shopping!”
They arrived at the Saint Jacques Hotel. Revolving doors led into a stark white lobby with an artificial fireplace that took up almost the entire length of one wall; on the other wall a concierge desk stretched forever. Janice asked the doorman where the business service center was and disappeared, heels clattering, down the marble corridor.
Ray carried his red duffel and violin case to the enormous front desk, where two clerks stood some distance from each other, both staring down at their computer monitors.
He chose the young blond woman on the right who looked not much older than he was.
“Hey. How’s it going,” Ray said.
“May I help you?” She looked him up and down.
He checked to see if he’d spilled anything on his shirt. Nope. Clean polo shirt, clean jeans. “Yes, I’m checking in. Ray McMillian.”
She punched a few keys. “I don’t seem to have you in our system.”
“Try Rayquan.” He spelled it.
He was dimly aware that a well-dressed couple entered the lobby, taking their places in front of the wispy-haired clerk on the left.
“I see you booked online,” his front desk clerk was saying. “I’m afraid that it’s late in the day, so all we have left is a single with one twin bed.”
“I requested a queen-size bed.” He searched for the reservation on his phone. “My confirmation said it was available.”
“Yes, I’m sure it did. I’m afraid that this is the last room we have at that price.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Ray said. “I’m booked for two nights in a queen room.”
“Well I don’t know what to tell you. This is all we have available.” She stared off into space, uninterested.
“There we are,” the other clerk was saying to the couple. The man was wearing a long coat that looked expensive. Diamonds glittered in the woman’s ears. “A queen-size bed, yes?”
Ray looked over at the other clerk, then at the blond woman in front of him. She pretended not to notice. “You know what, fine,” he said. “I’ll take the twin room.” He adjusted his grip on the violin case. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“It’s Kara. Will there be anything else?”
“No, Kara, there won’t be anything else. It really is a shame that you are so selective on who to give your nice rooms to here. Maybe I’ll overlook this when I’m asked to endorse this hotel.”
Did that seriously just happen? The elevator went up six floors and he found his room, barely more than a closet, overlooking an air shaft. He put the duffel bag on the leprechaun-size desk, lay down for a minute on the bed, violin next to him. Ten million dollars.