Of course I was. “So, what, does that mean she doesn’t practice as hard as the rest of her peers? Does she have license to slack off because people tell her she’s a natural?” I scoffed.
“I didn’t say that, Gregory. In fact, I’m not sure anyone’s ever told her she’s a natural. I do know she does happen to work very hard, but she doesn’t kill herself doing it.”
Karin arched her eyebrow, intending to direct the last part of her sentence to me. Then she said something completely inexplicable. “Of course, how hard she worked really wouldn’t have mattered, in her case.”
Before I could form a rebuttal and ask how exactly she knew anything about Savannah’s abilities, Savannah squealed in delight again. Shifting my gaze back to her end of the bar, my jaw dropped at the sight of Vita Carulli entering the bar and walking straight toward Savannah with a beaming smile on her face. How in the world do those two know each other? I knew nothing of Savannah other than what I could remember from her application to the school, but nothing that I recalled mentioned her studying with Vita Carulli.
I stared openly, pulling my eyebrows together to watch the interaction unfold. Without reverence, but maintaining her ever-present grace, Savannah nearly ran over to Vita and threw her arms around her neck, planting a kiss on her cheek before squeezing her close. Vita returned the gesture.
“What the hell?” I muttered, just under my breath.
“What?” Karin asked, seeming slightly agitated.
“How does Savannah Marshall know Vita Carulli?” I slid off my stool and absentmindedly made my way toward them.
“Gregory, that’s…” I lost Karin’s voice as I weaved through the now tightly packed bar, distracted by this out of place interaction.
As I approached Savannah, my pulse raced. I had to meet Vita.
“It’s so good to see you, darling,” I heard Vita say as I got closer. While I was excited at the prospect of meeting one of the best opera singers in the world within a few seconds, I was now completely invested in how Savannah was close enough to Vita Carulli to have her calling her “darling.”
Before Savannah could respond, she caught me standing there out of the corner of her eye. “Oh, Mr. Fitzgerald … hi.” She seemed caught off guard as she bit her lip and looked between me and Vita.
“Hello, Ms. Marshall.” I nodded my head once. “I don’t meant to interrupt here, but, Ms. Carulli, I wanted to tell you that I was at your performance tonight and, truly, it was one of your finest.” I took her hand and kissed it once, catching Savannah as she scrunched her forehead and rolled her eyes. I didn’t know what I had done to elicit such a reaction from her.
“How kind of you … Mr. Fitzgerald, is it?” Vita’s speaking voice was just as gorgeous as her singing voice, which I didn’t consider was even possible.
“Yes. Gregory Fitzgerald.” I looked between Savannah and Vita for a moment, a sense of familiarity rising through my chest.
Savannah let out a slight sigh. “Mom, this is Gregory Fitzgerald, cellist for the BSO, and teacher of my music theory class.”
Did she just say Mom?
“Mr. Fitzgerald,” Savannah continued, somewhat hesitantly, “this is my mother, Vita Carulli.”
What? My eyes moved to Karin, who gave a pointed nod toward Vita Carulli, as if to say, See? Musical royalty. I returned my focus to Vita and then Savannah, whose normally soft features seemed cold and stringent.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Carulli. See you in class, Savannah.”
Savannah held her head high as she gave a curt nod and a poor excuse for a smile.
I wandered back to the table impressed that Savannah hadn’t spent the last few years, to my knowledge, throwing her mother’s name around in the game of Who has better genes that the students insisted on playing with each other. Those students, though, needed that game. Their talent didn’t stand up to that which Savannah possessed. Whether through hard work or the genetic lottery, Savannah Marshall could be remarkably successful given the proper attention.
When I reached the bar and picked up my gin and tonic, now watered down with melting ice, I took one last look over my shoulder. As Nathan’s hand rested on the small of Savannah’s back, my jaw tensed. That was not the kind of attention Savannah needed to produce the results she was capable of.
She needed someone who took her career seriously.
Someone who took her seriously.
Savannah
“Aren’t you freezing, Savannah?” Nathan pulled me close as we walked quickly down the sidewalk to the dance club.
I stopped and twirled once on my tiptoes, allowing the skirt on my bright red dress to flare up around me. “Hell yes.” I laughed. “But, at least there’s no snow on the ground, so my feet won’t get wet.” I kicked up a heel of my silver strappy heels before maintaining our stride.
“You’ve been a little quiet in Fitzgerald’s class the last two weeks,” Nathan said out of nowhere.
“Nothing to say, I guess.” I shrugged.
Nathan stopped half a block from the club and turned me toward him. “Nothing to say? Come on, Savannah, I know you better than that. What gives? Yesterday he said something more archaic than usual and looked right at you, and you didn’t even bat an eyelash.” The dimple in his left cheek deepened as he grinned mockingly at me.
“Come on,” I sighed, “you saw how he looked at me when he met my mom…” I wrapped my arms around me as the wind whipped down the alley.
“Not this again, Savannah.” Nathan sighed and looked to the sky.
“Yes, this again. This always. People know who my mom is and they get this look on their face, like by knowing me, they’ve somehow touched the greatness that is Vita Carulli.” I was a little heavy-handed in my sarcasm, but this situation called for just that.
“Has he said anything to you?” Nathan shrugged and furrowed his brow.
“No, but the way his eyes lit up—”
Nathan cut me off. “What the hell do you care what he thinks?”
“I don’t …”
Did I? Shit. I did.
“Fuck it, then. You’ll be done with him after this semester, and it won’t matter what he thinks of you ... or your mom.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders again and chuckled as we finally made our way to the club door.
“I guess you’re right,” I admitted.
Still, I felt I had enough of a hard time getting Fitzgerald to take my thoughts seriously without him knowing who my family was. And, I couldn’t decide if his knowing about my mom would work in my favor or not. Either way, I didn’t want it to have any bearing on my success in his class. Though, as the semester wore on, I was caring less about what grade I received, and more about my point being received by him. His ideas were so fixed, so rigid, I couldn’t imagine ever having to put up with him as an instructor. He was at the top of his field, no question, but I would bet good money on his students developing serious OCD. Even as a classroom student of his, I found myself wanting to impress him. But I wasn’t willing to change my opinions to accomplish that.
As soon as I stepped through the door of the club, I was swallowed by heat and music. The sounds of the live band, filled with trumpets, drums, flutes, and everything else needed to make Spanish music work, was shocking the atmosphere with excitement.
“This gets me in the mood for spring break!” I hollered into Nathan’s ear as he led me straight to the dance floor.
Tomorrow was our last day of classes before spring break, and even though I wasn’t going anywhere tropical, music got me in the mood to relax for a week. We had a pretty important composition due in Fitzgerald’s class in the morning, but I wrote mine a week ago. Over the course of the semester, I'd spent more time on each paper, but received worse grades. I don’t think he really paid attention to my words, though. If he did, I’d certainly have been getting a better grade than I was. Given the grades in the rest of my classes, it didn’t really matter what I got in his theory class. But I was determine
d to prove that his word was not gospel. He disagreed every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, any chance he got.
“What’s with the look on your face, doll?” Nathan leaned down and planted a soft kiss on my cheek. “You’re not still thinking about … him … are you?”
“No.” I shook my head, smiling up at the curly-haired hottie. Nathan was a few inches taller than me, muscular but lanky. But he had this gorgeous hair and that adorable dimple that made me smile whenever it appeared.
“Prove it,” Nathan teased as he spun me around before pulling me so close I could easily smell the Ivory soap he used.
“I’m so sad you’re graduating this year.” I gave an exaggerated pout as we waited for the band to set up their next song.
“Ah, come on…” He grabbed my waist and kissed my forehead.
“I’m serious, Nathan. You’ve been a huge part of my life since I was ten, for God’s sake. Now I’ll have one more year here while you are … where?” I hadn’t asked about his plans after graduation, since he was highly superstitious about the whole application and audition process.
“We’ll be fine, Savannah. You went years only seeing me in the summer.” He sighed, spinning me in another circle as the band started up again.
“I know, but I’ve been spoiled the last three, getting to see you every day. I like that. Come on, spill it: tell me where you’re auditioning.” I set my hands on his broad shoulders as we moved in time with the salsa coming from the stage.
Nathan shook his head. “You know I won’t, Savannah. Just … trust me, okay?”
Before the song was over, I caught a shockingly out of place figure at the bar, causing me to stop and stare.
“What?” Nathan asked, turning around.
“He dances?” I gestured to Gregory Fitzgerald, who was sitting next to the same blonde woman he’d been with at my mother’s opera. Since the opera I’d seen her on campus once, coming out of the endowment offices.
He was dressed more casually than I was used to seeing him, but just slightly so. Black was definitely his color. I often mocked his monochromatic color palette in my head while staring at him during our lectures, but in the club tonight it looked just right. While the snug black t-shirt almost made him invisible in the shadows of the bar, his eyes commanded my attention. In the classroom they sometimes felt like icicles, sending nausea over anyone they came across because you really didn’t want to be on the other end of a debate with him. Well, I did. It excited me to go back and forth with him. I wasn’t usually one for classroom debates—especially on things that there wasn’t much to debate about. But, with him I couldn’t seem to help it. Before I knew it, my eyes were resting on his shoulders, tight from years of playing. They were usually hidden under the suit coats he wore to class. Not tonight.
Wow.
Nathan let out a full-throated laugh, apparently ignoring the fact that I was blatantly staring at our handsome professor. “What in God’s name is he doing in here?”
“Let’s go find out.” I grabbed Nathan’s hand and led him up the three stairs to the bar area.
“What are you going to say to him?” Nathan’s lips grazed my ear as he talked.
“I’ll figure it out on the walk.”
When we got up to the bar, Nathan ordered me a cosmopolitan and himself a beer. My back was to the woman, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. There were words passing between them, though, which seemed to be a small miracle in itself. I drank the cosmopolitan in three sips, and Nathan downed his beer. He tilted his chin to the good professor behind me, and butterflies danced erratically in my stomach at the prospect of approaching him.
“Your cheeks are red …” Nathan raised an eyebrow.
“I just swallowed my drink whole, Nathan.” I gestured with my empty glass to try to cover up what Gregory was doing to my body. “Gimme a minute.”
I took a deep breath and turned around, blushing deeper when I saw that Gregory was already looking at me. Studying me. His eyes moved up the length of my body, hitching my breath as they slowed over my curves. As I stepped forward, his eyes shot to mine, maybe hoping he hadn’t been caught.
He had.
“I’ve never seen you here before.” I smiled as he shifted in his seat. He mumbled something absolutely unintelligible given the band was in the middle of a salsa number. I had to lean in so our faces were inches apart. “What?”
He sucked in a quick breath. So close to my ear it caused goosebumps down that side of my body. “I said, do you come here often, Miss Marshall?”
I laughed, causing him to furrow his brow.
“What?’
“It’s Savannah. Please, call me Savannah, Greg—” I stopped short, covering my mouth and silently cursing the vodka for making me call him by his first name. It wasn’t the vodka at all, but that was as good an alibi as any.
Mr. Fitzgerald grinned before taking a quick sip from a short glass filled with what I assumed was a something and tonic. “It’s okay, Savannah …” He shrugged, not offering anymore.
His features were relaxed as I nodded, breathless at the way he pressed his lips together after sipping his drink. I’d forgotten about the woman he was with, until she cleared her throat.
“Savannah, this is Karin Briggs from the endowment office.” Gregory spoke quickly, seeming flustered.
“Savannah,” Karin spoke sweetly as she extended her hand, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Nice to meet you,” I replied.
“If you’ll excuse me, I must run to the ladies’ room. I’ll be back in a moment, Gregory.” Karin stood as Gregory nodded in acknowledgement.
“You’re quite good, Savannah,” Gregory’s tone was unmistakably seductive.
But, I had to be mistaken. He was my professor.
I opened my mouth to speak, but I was suddenly unsure how to respond. “I …”
“Where’d you learn to dance like that?”
Nathan, apparently growing impatient with my increasingly long conversation with Gregory, saddled up next to me as I sat in the seat Karin vacated.
I shrugged. “Spain, mostly,” I said matter-of-factly. One summer spent literally dancing through the streets of Madrid will teach anyone all they need to know about dancing. And love.
Gregory’s eyes widened in approving surprise. “Spain …” He shifted on the stool, his attention diverting expertly away from my legs as I crossed them.
“Yeah,” I sighed, “when I would visit my mom in the summers we’d take lots of trips around Europe. It would last all summer until I was old enough for the Tanglewood Institute, then I’d spend the first part of the summer with her in Italy, and the second half at Tanglewood.”
“Ah, Tanglewood.” Gregory nodded in approval. “Excellent program. I attended through high school. It completely changed my life.” He ran his index finger along the rim of his glass as he stared into the clear liquid. I was taken back by this bit of honesty from him, given it was a memory that caused him to pull his eyebrows together for a second before looking up again.
“So,” I cleared my throat, circling the conversation back to his initial question, “you dance?”
“It seems so, given our setting, wouldn’t you say?” Half his mouth quirked up as he arched his eyebrow and took another sip of his drink.
Damn.
“Do you want to dance?”
Nathan was engaged in loud conversation with a friend of his behind us. I had no one to stop me.
Gregory’s eyes widened a little bit at the question, and he sat up straighter. “That’s probably not a good idea.”
Yes. His eyes said yes. The rapid rise and fall of his chest accepted my invitation. Why did he say no? “Why not?”
“Because ...” He hesitated after the word. Out of character ... Gregory didn’t hesitate. But just as he was about to continue, Karin returned.
“It was nice to meet you, Karin.” I smiled, extending my hand to shake hers one more time be
fore turning to Gregory. “See you in class tomorrow.”
Gregory eyed Nathan, his face returning to the rigid structure we’d come to expect from our time in his class. “Don’t forget about your assignment.”
Nathan laughed a little before hooking his arm around my waist and yanking me into his body. That caused me to let out a squeal and a laugh. I turned and saw Gregory’s mouth open just a fraction, as if he was going to say something, but I just smiled and waved before letting Nathan lead me back to the dance floor.
Gregory
My eyes involuntarily followed Savannah Marshall, as she and her boyfriend moved out to the dance floor. Savannah wore a form fitting red dress that flared at her hips, revealing shapely legs which were accentuated by matching heels. I took another too big sip of my gin and tonic, forcing myself to look away. That did nothing to clear the sight of her skin glistening a mere foot from my face as we chatted.
“What is it?” Karin shouted over the extremely loud music. Good music, though. Full of rich undertones and an off-tempo Caribbean flair.
“What is what?” I asked.
“You looked startled!”
I brushed off the question. “It’s nothing. Please continue.”
“How about we dance instead?”
I suppose I knew that was coming. Karin and I had been out on several dates, virtually all of them venues I had selected. The Opera, the symphony on one of my rare nights off, elegant dinners. For this date, I’d asked her where she wanted to go, and she’d selected salsa dancing. Not something I normally did, but I suppose if one is dating, you must make some compromises. And, the music was good, after all.
We moved out to the dance floor. Thanks to my mother’s insistence when I was a child, I’m not a bad dancer, though it’s not something I particularly enjoy or seek out on my own. I put an arm on Karin’s waist, took her left hand in my right, and we began to dance. I swung her around on the floor, and as she laughed, my eyes involuntarily fell on Savannah Marshall again, in that red dress, with her boyfriend’s hands inappropriately sliding down her waist and too low on her back. It shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did. Did that young man have no culture at all? I turned with Karin, so aggressively she almost stumbled, so that my back was to Savannah. But my thoughts lingered on the narrowness of her waist and the way the bodice of her dress hugged her breasts.
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