Going Solo

by Cynthia Baxter

  She was amazed to see that he was actually blushing.

  “It’s just that, uh, I knew you were going out with, uh, some older guy that you probably don’t know very well, and, uh ... ”

  “Oh, I see.”

  At least she thought she did. Was it possible that Steve Sebastian was actually jealous? She thought about it for a few seconds and realized that there was no other way to interpret his reaction. She suddenly felt warm all over, pleased that he had just told her, in his own awkward way, something that she had been yearning to hear for a very long time.

  “Well, I’m back now. And I can assure you that everything went fine tonight.”

  “Did it?” He was searching her face anxiously, looking for some clue as to what her true meaning was.

  She wasn’t about to keep him guessing. “Yes, Steve, it did. And for goodness’ sake, don’t look so upset! Misha Bodorov is a friend of my parents, and he was polite enough to take me out as a favor to them. We had a very nice tune, too, talking about music.”

  “That’s all?” Steve looked relieved.

  “Yes, Steve. That’s all. Oh, there is one more thing.”

  “What?”

  Allegra took a deep breath. “I’ve made my decision about Saturday night. You know, the choice between playing the concerto and going ahead with the gig at the Ace of Clubs.”

  “What have you decided?”

  “I’m going to sing with the band,” she replied softly. “I’ve decided that I have to do what’s right for me. To follow my own dreams. I have to stop looking over my shoulder to see if my parents approve of what I’m doing or not. It’s time I start living my own life. And if I manage to do that,” she finished confidently, “everything is bound to work out for the best.”

  “All right!” Steve exclaimed. “That a girl!”

  He jumped out of the chair, then ran over to her and threw his arms around her. She was so surprised that she was almost knocked off balance. But Steve held her so closely that instead she fell into his arms.

  And then, suddenly, the nature of their embrace changed. It was no longer a friendly bear hug. He was holding her lightly. And then, ever so slightly, he drew away.

  “Allegra?” he said, his voice sounding odd.

  “Yes, Steve?”

  “Do you think it would be okay if I kissed you?”

  “Steve Sebastian!” she cried, pretending to be angry. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for three weeks now! You’d better kiss me, or I’m going to have to start looking for somebody else to fall in love with!”

  He tensed up for a moment, and then his whole body seemed to relax. His face lit up in a wide smile.

  “We certainly wouldn’t want that to happen,” he said in a soft voice. He leaned forward, bringing his face closer to hers. “Not when I’ve already fallen in love with you, too.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “This,” Tiffany said aloud, looking intently at her own reflection, “is going to be an evening you’re never going to forget, Tiffany Forrester!”

  She took a few steps back to get a better look at herself in the full-length mirror. And she liked what she saw. For the occasion, she had gone into town, ready to splurge what was left of her entire summer allowance if she had to to buy a knock-’em-dead outfit.

  She had found the perfect thing at Clayton’s priciest boutique, Pure Indulgence. It was a slinky, jade green dress made from a clingy fabric that kept no secrets from anyone. It had cap sleeves and a low-cut scoop neckline. To wear with it she bought black high heels and a large, showy necklace with earrings to match.

  Yes, the outfit she had put together for her dinner date with Jason Diamond was daring. Yes, it was grown-up. But it was practically guaranteed to allow her to achieve her goal for tonight: to be appreciated.

  She glanced at the gold watch she was wearing and saw that it was time to go. Her heart was pounding wildly as she raced down the stairs to the lobby. After waiting for this night for days on end, she could scarcely believe it was finally really happening.

  Jason, she saw, was already in the car, a sporty red convertible, waiting for her right outside. He whistled when he saw her.

  “Wow!” he said. “You look fantastic!”

  She laughed and tossed her head. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

  It was true. Instead of his usual jeans and T-shirt, tonight Jason was actually wearing a tuxedo. The sharp tailoring looked a bit strange with his long hair, tonight pulled back into a ponytail. But he was a handsome man, a fact that was highlighted by his fine clothes.

  Tiffany only hoped that the kids in the dorm could see them both through their windows. And she hoped they were all green with envy.

  “I’ve really been looking forward to tonight,” she said, glancing over at him as the car took off with screeching wheels.

  “Yeah, me, too. Hey, have you heard this tape of my latest? It’s called ‘Concerto for Knife, Fork, and Flute.’ ”

  He popped a tape into the cassette player and turned up the volume as loud as it would go. And then, wearing a huge, self-satisfied grin, he tapped out the rhythm of the music all the way to the Wildwood Performing Arts Center.

  It sounds like nothing but noise to me, Tiffany was thinking the whole time. Ugly, irritating, crazy-sounding noise.

  But she plastered what she hoped was a pleasant look on her face. She was trying to look as if she were actually enjoying what she was, in fact, trying to ignore. Doing it, she was convinced, was a small price to pay for being a part of this intriguing man’s life.

  Once she and Jason arrived at Wildwood, however, none of that mattered anymore. She saw right away that this was going to be a glamorous evening indeed. The elegant restaurant in a wooded section of the grounds was covered in deep red wallpaper, with thick carpeting and heavy velvet drapes in the same dramatic tones. There were candles and huge bouquets of colorful fresh flowers on all the tables.

  The hundreds of people who were in the room were as elegant as their surroundings. The men wore tuxedos, the women wore long gowns. So many diamonds and so much gold were glittering everywhere that it was almost like a fashion show at a jewelry store.

  As she walked in, lightly holding on to Jason’s arm, Tiffany felt as if she were about to burst.

  This is what it means to be grown up, she thought happily. If my friends back in Scarsdale could only see me now.

  Maybe they couldn’t see her, but one thing was for sure. The moment she got back home, she would be certain to tell them every last detail.

  “Jason! Darling! How marvelous that you came!”

  A woman in a shiny gold lamé dress had come over to them right away. She ignored Tiffany, instead latching on to Jason’s free arm and pulling him closer to her. If Tiffany hadn’t let go, they would have ended up playing a game of tug-of-war.

  “You’ve been hiding from us, you naughty boy,” the woman went on in a loud, high-pitched voice.

  Several people turned to see what the commotion was all about. Instead of enjoying being in the limelight, however, Tiffany felt like a fifth wheel.

  “You must let me introduce you to everyone,” the woman was insisting, pulling Jason away. He followed willingly, never even looking back.

  Tiffany was left all alone. Quickly she moved farther inside the room, not wanting to be seen standing all by herself with nothing to do. But it hardly mattered. No one even glanced her way.

  She noticed then that most people were holding drinks and eating tiny appetizers. She looked around the room and spotted a long table along one wall. It was staffed by men and women in black uniforms who were pouring champagne and ginger ale and handing out crackers spread with odd-looking toppings.

  Tiffany eased over to the table, smiling and trying to look as if she were having the time of her life. She sidled up to one of the waiters who was standing on the other side of the table.

  “Let’s see,” she said. “I think I’ll have a ginger ale.”

  �
�Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have champagne?’’ the waiter replied in a friendly voice. “After all, someone as grown-up as you ...”

  Startled, she looked at the waiter.

  “Mark!” she cried, dismayed. “What are you doing here?”

  He was grinning as he shrugged. “Oh, you know me. I’m always looking for a good time. So when I heard they needed waiters tonight, I figured it’d be a chance to make some easy money.

  “Besides,” he added, handing her an icy glass of ginger ale, “I figured it’d be a great way to enjoy the show.”

  “The show?” Tiffany didn’t remember Jason mentioning anything about a show. “What show? What are you talking about?”

  “Why, the Tiffany and Jason Show, of course. I was curious about how the world-famous composer was going to act on his big date with a girl almost young enough to be his daughter. And I can see that I didn’t have to wait very long. Where is the old boy, anyway?”

  “Jason is very busy, talking to important people,” she snapped, tossing her head.

  “Important people? Oh, I get it. You mean people who are more important to him than you are.’’

  Tiffany opened her mouth to reply. But Mark had already turned away to pour champagne for a formally dressed couple who had just approached him. She gave him one last scowl, just for good measure. Then she walked off, ginger ale in hand.

  She knew that Mark was keeping tabs on her as she moved across the room, searching for Jason. She finally found him. He was in the middle of telling a long story about the time he had been commissioned to compose a special piece of music for the coronation of a king in a small country she had never even heard of. His audience, three pretty young women dripping with jewels and wearing more makeup than Tiffany would have ever dreamed of putting on, were hanging on to his every word, nodding their heads and giggling as if he were the most charming storyteller in the world.

  “There you are, Jason,” Tiffany said boldly. “I’m sorry I wandered off, but I simply had to get something to drink. I was so thirsty.”

  She noticed then that Jason and the other three women were all holding champagne glasses. She felt terribly self-conscious about her glass of ginger ale, just one more sign that she didn’t really fit in here.

  “Oh, hi, Tiff,” he said casually. “I’m glad I found you. Listen, somebody just told me that at dinner I’m expected to sit with some guy and his wife who are the biggest contributors to the orchestra in its entire history or something. They’ve already got all the seating worked out, if you catch my meaning. But, hey, you can manage on your own, can’t you?”

  Tiffany forced a smile. “Of course I can. Uh, Jason, could I talk to you for a minute—alone?”

  He looked a bit irritated. “Sure, Tiff. That is, if these three lovely young ladies will excuse me.”

  His three brand-new fans were giggling together as Jason stepped away so that he and Tiffany were out of earshot.

  “What’s up, my little flower?” he asked cheerfully.

  “Jason, I thought you and I were going to be spending the evening together.’’

  “Oh, gee. These fund-raising dinners always turn out like this.”

  “They do?” Tiffany was surprised.

  “Sure. It’s my chance to make contacts, be seen, connect with as many important people as I can. These dinner parties always get crazy.”

  “So why did you bring me?”

  “Hey,’’ Jason said, grinning. “It would have looked pretty bad if I’d shown up without a date, wouldn’t it? And I didn’t really have anybody else to bring. Besides, Tiff, you’re the kind of good-looking girl that makes a guy look great when he shows up with her at some shindig.”

  With that, he turned back to his three adoring listeners. He picked up his story precisely where he’d left off.

  While Tiffany began wondering at that point if this evening could possibly get any worse, it didn’t take her very long to find out. At dinner, she found that the seat she had been assigned was in between two Japanese businessmen who were apparently generous donors to the orchestra but who barely spoke a word of English. She smiled and nodded so much that she began to get a headache.

  It was a great relief when they both gave up trying to communicate with her and instead turned their attention to the people seated on their other sides. She sat at the table miserable and alone, toying with the salad that appeared at her place. Every once in a while she glanced over at Jason— supposedly her escort at this painful event—who was seated way over on the other side of the room. From what she could see, he was having the time of his life.

  So much for romance, she thought, letting out a loud sigh.

  She was amazed to hear the exact same words she was thinking said aloud.

  “So much for romance, huh, Tiffany?”

  She glanced up and saw that the waiter who had been assigned to her table was Mark.

  “You’re the waiter for this table? How did this happen?” she demanded.

  “Well, I could tell you it was just pure luck. But the truth is that I had to pull a lot of strings to get assigned to table nine,” he returned with a wide, friendly smile.

  “Why on earth did you bother?”

  He glanced to her left and then to her right. “I figured you might appreciate having somebody to talk to.”

  “Thanks, but right now I’d rather be alone,” she replied tartly.

  Mark shrugged. “Suit yourself. Besides, it’s just as well, since I’ve got my hands full right now. Time to bring out the Chicken Kiev.”

  The evening seemed to stretch on forever. But finally the dinner was over, as were the endless speeches that followed. Tiffany stood up and stretched. She was tired, she had had enough, and she intended to demand that Jason take her home immediately.

  But when she went over to talk to him about that very subject, he said, “Hey, Tiff. There you are. Listen, I’m going to be tied up here for a long time. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you could get home on your own steam, is there?”

  “That’s okay. I’ll get her home.”

  Even before she had a chance to reply, Mark was there at her side, assuring Jason that the situation was under control.

  That was all the composer needed to hear.

  “Great. Thanks, Mark. You’re a pal.” He turned away, almost immediately engrossed in another conversation.

  Tiffany was so furious she could hardly talk.

  “He—he talks about getting me home as if it were a job like ... like taking out the garbage or something!” she blurted out to no one in particular.

  “I wouldn’t take it personally, if I were you,” Mark said. “I think Jason Diamond is just the type of guy who’s in the habit of using people to advance his career.’’

  “I still don’t understand why he sent me flowers and invited me to this dinner in the first place.”

  “What? You don’t understand why a guy like that wanted to have the prettiest girl at Wildwood at his side when he showed up at a fancy party like this?” Mark sighed. “Boy, Tiff, you may think you’re sophisticated and all that, but the truth is that you’ve still got an awful lot to learn.”

  “Well, there’s one thing I already know. I don’t need him. I don’t need him one bit!”

  “Gee, I’m glad you’re finally beginning to figure that out,’’ Mark said.

  “I can get somebody better than that conceited Jason Diamond. If I can learn to play Beethoven, I can certainly find myself a better man!’’

  “Good for you. I agree one hundred percent.”

  “And do you know what else?” Tiffany went on in the same angry tone of voice. “I can’t stand his music. I never liked it. I think it’s pretentious and—and strange.... I bet a three-year-old could do better!’’

  Mark just chuckled. “Come on, Tiff. I’ll take you home.”

  “You know, Mark,” she said a few minutes later, as she and Mark were driving home in the car he had borrowed for the evening, “I still don’t
understand why you’re trying so hard with me.”

  Her tone was gentle—questioning, even—though her words were hard.

  “I mean, what do I have to do to convince you that you’re wasting your time by being so nice to me all the time?”

  He looked over at her, wearing an earnest expression. In the dim light, his face was an interesting study in shadow and light. For a fleeting second, Tiffany thought he almost looked handsome.

  “I guess it’s because I still believe, Tiffany Forrester, that one day you’ll come to see what the really important things in life are.”

  She just looked at him for a few seconds, totally caught off guard by his answer. There was a strange tension in the air that she had never felt before.

  And then she stuck her chin high up in the air. Pulling open the car door, she said, “Well, thanks for the ride, anyway. ‘‘

  She climbed out of the car and stalked off, taking care not to look back.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The approach of Parents’ Weekend created quite a stir among the students at Wildwood. The Saturday and Sunday that the parents were invited to visit, two weeks before the summer program was over, were going to be chock-full of exciting events, and most of the young musicians were really looking forward to it.

  The weekend would provide a chance to show off, for one thing. Saturday night’s concert, in which the student orchestra would be led by the world-famous conductor Amos Derwood, was to be the musical culmination of the students’ stay at Wildwood. It would be, in a way, the end result of all the daily orchestra rehearsals, the bi-weekly lessons, and the long, intense sessions mastering the music in the lonely practice rooms.

  For Megan, especially, the concert was going to be important. And while she was nervous about her upcoming performance of Mozart’s flute concerto, she also recognized what a privilege it was for her to be able to play it—a privilege that, as she knew only too well, she had very nearly missed out on.

  Aside from the Saturday night concert that had been putting butterflies in everyone’s stomach for days, this weekend was also going to be fun. There was a pre-concert picnic scheduled for late Saturday afternoon, where the students, their parents, and the American Philharmonic Orchestra’s musicians could mingle together over barbecued chicken and watermelon. After the students’ concert, there would be a party in the lobby of the dorm. As for Sunday, there would be an American Philharmonic concert right after lunch for both the students and their parents to enjoy.