Prologue

Thanks for reading my first submission. Of note, this story is written in the same universe of servant genies made famous by such writers as Joe Brolly and 800IbGorrila. Also, this intro chapter does not contain any actual sex. If you want to cut straight to the chase, skip ahead to chapter 01. If, however, you actually want to know what the hell is going on, this chapter is for you.

I have tried to bring one unique aspect to these stories. As music is such a huge part of my life, as well as our hero’s life, I will post song titles at the start of each chapter for any musical selections occurring in each submission. I would encourage you to listen to these pieces as the mood strikes you. They are by no means mandatory in any way to enjoying the story, but I do feel that listening to them enhances the experience. Please enjoy.

Prologue song titles

The Trumpet Shall Sound (Handel)

An Unforgettable Melody: Prologue

Nailed it!

As he walked out of Atlanta Symphony Hall, trumpet case slung over his shoulder, Mike Braxton couldn’t help but walk with an air of confidence. He was currently the assistant principal trumpet in the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra, and had just finished his first audition for the principal chair. Success would result in him succeeding his friend and mentor after his retirement next month. While he always had confidence in his abilities, he felt even more so today. It was almost as though he was possessed while on stage.

“Well, well,” Mike heard a voice call out. “Someone seems pleased with himself.”

He turned to find Darcy White, the principal bassoonist for the ASO, sitting on a bench outside symphony hall.

“Who? Me?” Mike responded with his trademark sarcasm.

Darcy laughed, shooting back, “Matter of fact, I haven’t seen that kind of swagger from you since that final jazz band concert senior year.”

Mike remembered that concert like it was yesterday. “Well how could I not enjoy that? Closing out my final year at Clarke Mountain High by soloing Chuck Mangione’s Feels So Good? That’s livin’ the dream for any trumpet player worth his salt.” Sitting next to Darcy on the bench, he continued, “I presume you’re stalking me to find out how the audition went?”

She narrowed her eyes. “That was my original intent, but actions speak louder than words. Besides, even with you being the egotistical trumpet player I know you are, you never seem this confident without good reason. Think today was enough to get you into the final round next Friday?”

“I hope so,” Mike responded. “It’s impossible to say for sure, since this part was a blind audition; I’m nothing more than a number today. Still, I can say with honesty that’s the best audition I’ve ever had in my life. If that doesn’t get me a shot at the principal chair, I don’t know what will.”

“Good enough for me. Oh, also wanted to make sure you knew, the High is having a sale of artwork today.” She pointed across the courtyard towards the High Museum of Art. “It’s only open to ASO musicians, so you never know. Even you might find something that catches your eye. Wanna come with?”

As artistic as Mike was, he never had been big on paintings. Still, he knew Darcy was into art of all kinds, and as easy as she has always been to hang with, he knew better than to turn down that request. “Sure, why not? I’m done with work early today with the audition, so I’ll still be able to beat rush hour.”

They got up and started their walk across the courtyard toward the entrance to the museum. As he trailed a step behind her, Mike couldn’t help but notice that Darcy looked quite nice today. About 5’4” with short, sandy brown hair, she wore a pair of tan shorts, perfect for the spring weather of early May in Atlanta. The shorts went about halfway down her thigh, and were tight enough to show the curve of her petite ass. Her faded blue t-shirt hugged her frame, subtly drawing attention to her bust. Mike guessed she was about a B cup, though he never professed himself an expert.

Who said I never admire works of art?

Even with said admiration, Mike and Darcy’s relationship had always been a platonic one, going back all the way to high school. She had always had a boyfriend, but she and Mike still had a level of comfort with each other. They had always been able to give each other advice and criticism on all manner of topics, be it music, school, or even dating. Her ability to keep up with his dry, sarcastic wit, as well as throw it right back at him, didn’t hurt either. She had always said, “If someone didn’t know we were close friends, they’d think we hated each other!”

“Now, you’d better not be staring at my butt.” Darcy threw a look over her shoulder, flashing that mischievous grin she was famous around the orchestra for. She knew she had caught him red-handed.

“Of course not, wouldn’t think of it! It’s not like I’m an average guy who enjoys appreciating the artwork of the female form, particularly one with such a well rounded and tiny butt. You must have me confused with someone else...” he rambled, playing into the banter they were enjoying.

“Good. After all, you know I’m on the rebound, and that could be considered taking advantage of poor, little-ole’ me!” Darcy responded, over doing her southern accent for the last four words.

Mike laughed. “First of all, you’re lucky I know you’re not leading me on, little missy,” he said, pretending to scold her with his index finger. “Second, I guess you’ve figured out that ... well ... I’m in the same situation.” Mike’s voice softened to a more serious tone.

Darcy’s frowned. “I heard you and Amanda broke up. Wasn’t she was your college sweetheart though? I thought you were gonna marry her?”

If she only knew how she had hit the nail square on the head. In the absolute worst day of Mike’s twenty-six years, Amanda had ended their four year long relationship via text message. This was followed by a complete refusal to answer his calls. To make matters worse, Mike got a call an hour later. The engagement ring he had purchased was ready for pickup, twisting the proverbial knife even further. In the six months since then, Mike threw himself into his work and music. His skills increased by leaps and bounds, resulting in a boost in respect from his coworkers.

The only difficulty he experienced in those six months was the inevitable return of contact from Amanda. She, of course, had realized the hastiness of her decision, and wanted him back. While Mike could have rubbed it in, or even refused to talk to her, he convinced himself to do the honorable thing. He told her, face-to-face, how much she had hurt him, that he had no desire to get back together with her. He also said that he wanted her to learn from her decision and move on with her love life. It took some doing, but he convinced her that pining would be unhealthy not only for her, but also for the man she would end up spending her life with one day.

Yep, he had thought many times, sure would be fun to do the petty thing once in a while and stick her nose in it. That damn code of morality and trying to live a Godly life thing.

“You’re right, I was hers. And she decided all of a sudden that she wasn’t ready, and the only course of action was to end a relationship of almost four years. No biggie,” Mike responded, his words dripping with sarcasm. “In all seriousness though, it’s for the best. I know what I want from here on, and I won’t be wasting time with someone who isn’t on the same page as me.”

Darcy’s grin returned. “So, no more Mr. College Playboy then?”

“HA! Please. Need I remind you that I’m the one always getting flack for not ‘playing the field’ more in college?” Mike shot back.

“Fair enough, fair enough...” Darcy conceded. “Pretty sure mine was for the best, too. Stephen never got physical, but his temper kept getting the best of him. Oh, and just because you noticed those things while we were still together does NOT give you permission to rub it in!” she interjected before Mike could claim the ‘I told you so’. He threw is hands up, trying to profess innocence, but Mike couldn’t suppress that smug grin of having nailed it.

By now, they had made it inside the museum and were beginning to browse the selections on sale that day. Most of the works were by local artists looking for connections and exposure, not to mention money. Anything to ease the starving half of being a starving artist. While Darcy stopped at a booth full of abstract paintings, Mike strolled around the exhibit hall. His eye soon noticed a stunning woman working a table at the end of the room.

He tried his best not to ogle her as he approached her. She was tall, at least six feet, with dark curly hair extending halfway down her back. Her skin was a gorgeous shade of mocha brown, with a pair of blue skinny jeans and a snug black tank top accentuating her curvy figure. As he approached, she gave a warm smile and greeted him. “Good afternoon, sir.” She spoke with a slight accent that Mike couldn’t quite place, maybe from somewhere in the Middle East, though he couldn’t be sure.

“Hi, how goes it today? My name’s Mike.” He extended his hand, and she shook it with a gentle grip.

“A pleasure, Mike. I’m Selena. I trust you are interested in my wares that I brought today?”

“Wares, eh?” Her wording confused him a bit. “Does that mean you’re selling more than artwork today?”

“Come and see for yourself,” she said with a wink.

Browsing her table, Selena had lots of hand made jewelry for sale. As he looked, she explained that her family had immigrated from Iran, coming to America when she was ten years old. Far from the typical girly-girl, she developed a particular aptitude for shop class and metalworking in high school. This lead her to start up her jewelry business. As such, almost all the pieces she had for sale were inspired by her Middle Eastern roots.

“See anything you like? Perhaps something for a special lady in your life?”

Mike responded, “I’m afraid you’re about six months too late for that sales pitch.”

She studied him with intent for a few moments. “You were in love, weren’t you?”

Damn! She can see right through anything!

“Uh...” was all Mike could say in response.

She backtracked, “I’m so sorry! Please forgive my bluntness. I have always been quite good at reading emotions. I forget sometimes that there is an appropriate time and place for voicing such observations. It is a shortcoming of mine.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Matter of fact, you hit the nail on the head.” Mike related the story of Amanda’s break up text, the engagement ring, and the work he had to do to convince her to move on.

Selena stood slack jawed for a few moments. “Wow ... do you realize what control you had over her in that moment? She would have done anything you asked her to, all in the hopes of getting you back. Yet, you chose to act in the best interest of her long term future, rather than take advantage of her vulnerability.”

Mike hadn’t considered it from that perspective before, but she was correct. It would have been all too easy to exact revenge on Amanda. It frightened him that he, if only for a few brief moments, had considered starting down that path.

Selena’s voice turned soft, almost contemplative. “Mike, I have an heirloom that has been in my family for generations. When my mother gave it to me, she made it clear that I was only to give it to a person of, in her words, ‘outstanding moral fiber’. I’m sure she meant for this person to be the man who would be my husband, but for reasons I won’t bore you with, that is not a possibility for me anymore.”

She reached under the table to her backpack, and pulled out a small brown box, appearing to be the right size for a necklace of some kind. Opening the box, she showed Mike a beautiful gold locket, antique, yet well preserved. “How tempting it would have been for you to mistreat that poor girl. Yet the fact that you still acted as you did tells me all I need to know about your character. If anyone could ever meet my mother’s requirements, I have no doubt it’s you.”

She handed the locket to Mike as he began to examine it. It was a perfect circle, with raised inlays of either silver or white gold across the surface, almost resembling vines. In the center was a pale blue stone, so smooth and polished that Mike could see his own reflection in it. Mesmerized by it’s beauty, Mike snapped back to reality. “Selena, this is obviously a treasured, precious item. I’m flattered, but I couldn’t possibly accept something as valuable as this.”

Selena responded, “Are you quite sure that you aren’t meant to own it? Look again.”

Chapter 1 »