by Ann Cristy
Teel shook her head, bemused, knowing she should tell this woman that a marriage between Chazz and herself was impossible, that it couldn't possibly work.
"Thank you, darling," Chazz murmured, bending down to kiss her lightly on the mouth.
Teel reddened even more. Tilda Charles beamed and took hold of Teel's free arm. "Come with me," she said. "I want you to meet some friends and"—she shrugged, a tiny frown appearing on her penciled brow—"some hangers-on, I call them. I wonder how these people find out when one is going to entertain," she mused as if to herself. "You can't really throw them out." She shrugged to Teel. "But I resent their being here on such a... a personal occasion."
"I have no qualms about removing anyone, Tilda," Chazz said. "Just point out the ones you want gone and I'll take care of it." He looked grim as he scanned the cluster of people, many of whom had turned in their direction.
Teel heard many calls of "Hi, Chazz," and "Chazz, how are you." She would have hung back, but a warm hand on her arm guided her forward.
Tilda Charles stopped, her hand on her cheek. "Chazz, my dear, we are both a couple of fools. Neither of us took Teel's lovely jacket from her. Here, dear, let me hold your violets while Chazz takes your jacket. Monroe will hang it up." Tilda gestured to a tall, thin woman dressed in black with a salt-and-pepper bun screwed tight to the back of her head.
Teel felt the jacket being lifted from her body; then she returned to retrieve her violets from Tilda, who was looking at her with wide eyes. "Dearest girl, that dress is gorgeous. You look like a sea nymph. I shall paint you in that dress."
Teel heard other comments as if through a thickening haze, for one look at Chazz's tight, angry face made her pulse race with fear. She looked down at the violets to hide her anxiety. What was wrong with him?
"Chazz, old man, you've snared the most beautiful woman in New York." Teel glanced up to see a sandy- haired man coming up to clap Chazz on the back.
"Yes, I have, haven't I?" Chazz's voice was like hot steel hitting cold water.
"Hello." The sandy-haired man sketched a slight bow toward Teel, who held out her hand. Instead of shaking it, he kissed the back. "I'm Trevor Mahon. Chazz and I attended Columbia grad school together. I'm a much better engineer than he is, and I'd would make a much better husband. Reconsider, o beautiful one."
Teel relaxed, letting her laughter bubble over, enjoying Trevor Mahon's nonsense.
Both men stared at her, unsmiling. "Trev, old man," Chazz mocked, "I'd hate to see your body mangled."
Trevor, who was inches shorter than Chazz but of equal breadth, said, "She'd be worth the risk." He smiled back at Chazz, then at Teel. "That dress is simply stunning on you."
"Yes, isn't it." Chazz folded her closer to his side and bent his head to her ear. "I love looking at your breasts, darling, but if I'd known this little number was cut so low, I'd have made you wear something else. Tell Charine I want higher necklines next time."
Teel looked angrily up at him and her lips barely moved, when she said, "I wear what I choose." She almost cried out as the pressure of Chazz's fingers on her waist increased tenfold. She bit her lip, then turned to Trevor Mahon. "You're not a native New Yorker," she guessed.
Trevor looked pained. "And I thought my New York accent was perfect." He smiled. "I was born in Sydney, Australia, but I've been in this country since my undergraduate days at Rensselaer."
"I visited Sydney with my parents," Teel commented. "It was a graduation present. I thought it beautiful, and the people were very friendly." She grinned. "Even though the topless bathing shocked my mother... and intrigued my father."
Trevor threw his head back and laughed, and even Chazz's frown disappeared in a reluctant grin.
Soon they were bantering easily back and forth, and Teel felt as if she'd known Trevor for ages. She began to relax and even enjoyed the attention when other guests crowded around to meet her and admire her ring.
Sometime later, she realized that she'd been separated from both Trevor and Chazz for several minutes.
Suddenly a voice seemed to come to her out of the past. "Hello, darling. Do I say congratulations or best wishes?" She turned to find Ben Windom looking her up and down, his pale blue eyes boldly assessing her figure, lingering provocatively on the swell of her breasts.
Surprise and discomfort assailed Teel. One of her first thoughts was to wonder what she'd ever seen in the milksop standing before her in a black evening suit, his blond hair thinning but not gray. "Are you a friend of Chazz's?" she asked coldly.
Ben cocked his head. "I know him. Let's just say I'm better acquainted with Tilda Charles."
"Oh, then you must be one of the hangers-on she mentioned earlier," Teel replied, her voice hard. She watched with very little feeling as Ben's neck flushed red. She wanted to be rid of him as quickly as possible.
"You'd better be careful, Teel," Ben warned her, his features set in an angry line. "How do you think that fiancé of yours would like it if I were to tell him I was the one who deflowered the virgin Teel Barrett at the tender age of eighteen?"
Teel was so angry that she decided immediately to call his bluff. "There he is," she said, "right over there. Why don't you wander over and tell him?"
Ben put his hand on her arm, his smile reappearing. "Now, now, angel, you know I wouldn't do that. I'm hoping we can all be good friends. I have some people who want to do business with your fiancé, and they'd like you—"
"Drop dead, creep."
Ben Windom's mouth fell open and his face twisted with anger as Teel turned away from him, thoroughly disgusted by his vile behavior. But she had only taken two steps when his voice rose behind her.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the newly engaged lady is too shy to tell you that she's a most accomplished musician, but I'm sure you would love to hear her sing and accompany herself on the piano."
Teel turned to see Ben's hard smile and fought to control the sudden fear that gripped her. Once, long ago, a very young Teel Barrett had confided to her hero, Ben Windom, that the reason she had never continued with a music career was that performing in front of people filled her with terror that rendered her immobile. "You bastard," Teel whispered through lips that had suddenly turned icy cold.
Ignoring her, Ben continued, his mouth twisting in amusement at her epithet, "I knew Teel the summer she modeled in New York. Sometimes I could persuade her to play and sing for me." He began to applaud, looking straight at Teel. Soon others followed suit.
Teel looked desperately around the room. The only face that registered on her was Chazz's, which seemed carved from white fury. Her eyes flew over the others blindly, then back to Chazz. His expression changed, and then he was pushing his way toward her, propelling people out of his path.
"Come on, Teel, play," Trevor said from somewhere.
Play. Play. Play. Teel heard the words repeated over and over as if in a dream and shuddered. She seemed to hear her first teacher telling her mother that the only cure for Teel's shyness was to make her play in front of an audience. She heard her mother's doubtful voice replying that she didn't want to force her daughter. Teel remembered her teacher's words later, when they were alone. "Think how disappointed and unhappy your parents will be if you don't play, Teel," she had said. Teel had played—and hated it. And as the years passed, she realized that Mrs. Curtin had forced her to play not from a love of music but because she hadn't wanted to lose a pupil—or the pupil's money. By the time Teel had reached college she was proficient in both voice and piano. It seemed natural to gravitate to the study of music at Nazareth College. But by her junior year she had switched to special education and was much happier. She still played for herself—and sometimes a few friends— but she had never played in front of so many people as were gathered here. Everyone was looking at her expectantly, yet she felt rooted to the spot, incapable of moving to the piano bench, much less making the ivory keys produce beautiful music. Panic engulfed her. She was trapped, humiliated.
"You're fri
ghtened, darling." Suddenly Chazz was there, putting his arm around her. 'Tell me what's wrong," he murmured for her ears alone. "I don't want anything to frighten you ever." His deep, soothing voice penetrated her numb brain, warming her and unlocking the ice that seemed to encase her limbs. Chazz's touch generated new life in her, making her blood flow once again and firing her resolve.
"I'll play—if you stay with me," she whispered, biting her lip to still its trembling.
Chazz's eyes leaped with golden fire. "Oh, angel, why do you say such things in front of a roomful of people? Of course I'll stay with you." He kissed her lips gently, rubbing his mouth back and forth in a way that left her yearning for more of his touch and taste. "But you don't have to play if that's what's making you afraid. Is it?"
"Stay with me."
"Always." Chazz hooked her close to his side with one strong arm and turned to follow the assembled group, who were moving toward the grand piano by the floor- to-ceiling bow windows.
As Chazz pulled out the bench and seated her carefully on it, Teel felt as though she had crossed some invisible bridge. He released his hold on her and she swung around on the bench to look up at him. She needed him near her. "Will you put your hand on my shoulder while I play?" she asked quietly.
"Darling! Of course I will." Chazz's gaze remained fixed on her. The excitement she saw there, the golden fire, warmed her to her very core, releasing her from the fear.
His touch on her shoulder was her impetus. She bent over the keys with relaxed absorption and Rachmaninoff spilled from her fingers. She barely heard the 'Ohhs' and 'Ahhs,' as she switched to show tunes. Even after five songs she didn't sing, the whispered pleas from the onlookers failing to touch her.
Finally Chazz squeezed her shoulder and leaned close.
"Will you sing a song, love?" he asked. "Everyone's been asking you to sing, but you don't have to if you don't want to."
Teel nodded, her fingers picking out the notes before she knew what she would sing. The song, "I'll Always Choose You," had poignant lyrics and, as she sang them, some part of her seemed to stand outside herself and judge the quality of her singing. Her phrasing was good, she decided, her low register pleasing, even seductive, she realized with surprise. But why had she chosen this song? For Chazz. The answer came without volition. She paused, then finished, "... for the one to share my life with, I'll always choose you." And then she looked up into his face.
Absolute silence filled the room as Chazz looked down at her. The others seemed to fade away, and they were alone. Teel felt protected and cared for, as safe as she had felt on the Deirdre. For a moment she seemed to float free of the room, free of the planet.
Then Trevor said, "Well done, well done." He began clapping. The others joined him, and Teel's awareness of her surroundings returned. The old fear began to sneak over her once again.
Chazz helped her up from the bench. "You're so beautiful, and I'm so proud of you. I want you so much." His voice was hoarse with emotion, and he leaned down and closed his mouth over Teel's as if they were alone in the room.
Why hadn't he said he loved her? Teel sighed sadly to herself as her arms slipped up and around his neck. She held him fiercely, desperately. She could never hold him forever, but she would hold him for this one moment.
"Release her, will you, old man?" Trevor's sardonic voice broke the spell.
Teel pushed away from Chazz, and he lifted his head, his irritation at the interruption clear on his face. "Your aunt's guests," Teel reminded him.
"Damn them." Chazz kissed the tip of her nose and allowed Teel to push back from him, but he didn't release her entirely. One strong arm still fastened her to his side.
Teel accepted the congratulations of the guests, knowing that she could never have played for them if Chazz hadn't supported her.
Finally she met Ben Windom's malevolent gaze and flinched.
She sensed Chazz's eyes on her as her body tensed in rejection of her former lover. She felt Chazz's intent look follow the direction of hers. "What has Windom to do with you, Teel?" he demanded.
"I'll tell you later," she promised, looking up at him. "He's only a minor irritation."
"Is he? Is that why you looked so stricken when he announced that you would sing and play?" Once again Chazz's face appeared to be carved from marble, his flesh resembling the unfinished form from a sculptor's chisel
Teel studied his expression, and was unable to read it. But she recognized his implacable desire to know the answer to his question. She nodded and sighed. "All right, I'll tell you, but first I must—" She glanced at the people around them.
"Yes, speak to them. You deserve their accolades. You are a most talented lady."
Trevor was there kissing her hand as Chazz melted into the crowd. Others took his place. Tilda appeared with tears in her eyes. "My dear, my dear. That was just beautiful. You love my boy, and you told him so, so sweetly." Despite her tears, Tilda Charles studied Teel with shrewd eyes. "You mustn't worry about it," she added confidentially. "He's too in love with you to read the signs."
Teel gasped. "He isn't in love with me. He—he just wants me," she blurted out, then pressed her fist to her mouth, cursing her gaucherie.
Tilda Charles studied her critically, her sparrow eyes snapping, making the clotted lashes look even more unlikely. "Well, well." She nodded. "So the two of you are playing hide and seek with your feelings, eh? Perhaps that's best." She reached up and kissed Teel's cheeks. "I'm going to my studio to make some sketches of you. Come along in thirty minutes or so." She shrugged toward her guests. "They can take care of themselves. Monroe can handle everything for a while." She frowned. "I wonder why Chazz is being so chummy with that Windom fellow. I really don't like the man and can't imagine what he's doing here. He's such a fool. Thinks people don't realize that he looks down on them. Pluperfect jackass." She patted Teel's cheek, then tiptoed away on her ridiculously high heels.
For a moment Teel watched Chazz moving from guest to guest, then she wandered over to the small bar and poured herself a Perrier and lime with lots of ice.
Suddenly Chazz was looking down at her, his eyes conveying a fierce warning that he would stand for nothing but the truth. "Now tell me why you're afraid of that man,” he demanded.
Teel stared up at Chazz, assailed by an unexpected feeling of fate taking control of her life. Chazz might look at her with scorn and contempt, but there could be nothing but the truth between them. She would never allow a man like Windom to hold anything over her head. Let the sword of Damocles fall.
"I'm not afraid of him, Chazz," she answered quietly. "I despise him."
Chazz ran an anxious hand through his hair, tousling it in a way that made Teel's heart ache with yearning and led her to a bow window in the dining area, where there was some measure of privacy. "Were you in love with him?" he asked.
"I thought I was." She kept her eyes steady on him. "At eighteen my standards were high, my judgment low. I was just starting a summer modeling job when I met him. I thought he was the man of my dreams."
Chazz swallowed. "I see."
"I let him make love to me, thinking that we were going to get married. I was a virgin and fully intended to keep my virginity for the man who would be my husband." She felt her chin tremble and bit down on her lip. "I suppose most women feel that way."
"I suppose." Chazz's mouth hardly moved.
"Tonight he wanted me to intercede with you so that you would do business with colleagues of his. I told him to drop dead. That's why he introduced me as a musician—"
"You're a fine musician," Chazz broke in.
"—so that he could use my pathological fear of performing in front of people to humiliate me." Teel felt her face crumbling. "You gave me the strength to perform."
Chazz reached out to grip her forearm. "Windom tried to intimidate you?"
"Yes"
"I see."
"Do you believe me?"
"Of course." His voice was flat, almost vague.
<
br /> Teel's stomach churned. "Tilda wants me to go to her studio," she told him, unable to stay with him a moment longer.
"What? Oh—all right." Chazz led her through an archway out to a hallway and pointed to a door at the end of the corridor. "There. If she's ready for you, she'll open the door. I'll be along in a few minutes. I have some calls to make."
Teel walked down the short hall like an automaton. Chazz hadn't looked at her with hatred, but after years of dealing in the business world he was adept at hiding his feelings. Her hand reached out to turn the knob, a numbness spreading through her body, mind and spirit.
Wasn't she getting her wish? Now that he knew all about her shameful relationship with Ben Windom, Chazz would leave her alone. Wasn't that what she had wanted all along?
She pushed open the door to see an engrossed Tilda Charles, a sketch pad on her knee, her small hand flashing rapidly across the page, then flipping to a clean sheet in rapid motion.
Teel stood there for long moments, staring at the woman without really seeing her. By the time she focused on where she was and realized that she should leave Tilda to her work, the woman looked up.
"Teel, dear, just the person I wanted to see. Would you step over to that platform? It will only take a few minutes."
Teel nodded, glad that no words were required of her. Her jaw seemed to be locked into place. She was almost sorry when, several minutes later, Tilda told her to come down from the platform.
"Ah—I wasn't sure about the eyes. I should have known they would be green, like that exquisite emerald Chazz has given you." Tilda smiled at her as she darted quick looks at Teel, then back at her sketch book. "You're bringing out the romantic in that tough boy of mine," she said, pausing for a moment, her pencil falling still. "You know you're the first woman to break through that barrier of his. For many years I thought I'd be the only one ever to really know him." Her face took on a dreamy look. "He's much like his father. What a wonderful man Itzak was. I think that's why I never married. I could never find a love like my sister had. How they loved each other! It was extraordinary to see. They seemed to mold each other with their love." She nodded once, her birdlike eyes snapping. "It was sad when they died, but I was glad that they died together. I don't think one could have lived without the other." She smiled at Teel. "I knew my boy would love like his father if he ever found the right woman."