[ He takes the speaker from her, nodding in thanks and agreement. He sets to connect his iPod to it, thankful that it's a version recent enough that it has bluetooth.

A moment later, music starts filling out the space between them. Languid, romantic, beautiful and sharp. No wonder why it reminds him of Isabelle.

He leaves the speaker on the counter next to him, fingers twitching atop an imaginary piano keyboard. ]

If I was good enough, I'd play something like this, tomorrow. Although it's not an orchestra hall, so it might not be appropriate.