"So, why did you go sailing in winter?" He sent a startled smile her way. "That sounds like something I would do."
They talked for hours and Victoria found herself telling him things that she'd never told anyone else. Memories of her parents and living in New York, mundane but beautiful things she missed about the city, about them, about her life.
"My father was quiet," she told him. "My mother was not. They were polar opposites, but you'd think they were a match made in heaven the way he loved her and she, him. He'd sit and listen to her play for hours like it was their special language. I miss that the most, their music. It made me feel ... part of something beautiful."
Christian was understanding and sweet and funny, making her sadness disappear, and despite their earlier interaction, it seemed like they could be friends.
"Thank you," she said to him after he'd walked her to her car. "You didn't have to give up your entire evening for me."
"I wanted to."
"I feel like I should apologize for thinking you were a bad person," she confessed, as she got into her car. "I misjudged you, and I'm sorry for that. I'd really like it if we were friends."
He stared at her then, his light eyes unfathomable. Victoria felt them on her long after she'd driven away and was out of his sight.
THE NEXT DAY Christian reverted to his other personality, the one who couldn't bear to look at her or be near her. It was as if someone had flipped a switch inside of him and the night before had never existed. He was agitated and angry, snapping at her when she brought him the wrong music, until finally she lost her patience with him and yelled, not caring who heard. "It's pretty obvious we can't be friends. You don't like me, and I don't like you. And you can get your own music!"
Over the next few days, Victoria stayed as far away from him as possible during rehearsal, and when he performed his solos, she usually tried to find something else to do in the office. His music undermined every strong thought she had against him, flowing into her as powerful as actual words. It left her weak. And he knew it. Those were the times that she left practice running for her car, desperate to escape his presence, the amulet in a death grip between her fingers.
Once they ran into each other at Willard's, the local diner in town, and despite their attempt to be civil to each other, the conversation was forced and fake. He wasn't even able to look at her. Even Charla gave her a quizzical look over Christian's obvious rudeness.
"What's with you and hot-French-boy?" she asked.
"Nothing. He's doing a solo for the orchestra, and he's a prima donna," Victoria responded, still smarting from his coldness.
"Devereux is a band geek?" she laughed. "That's just rich."
Angie surprised Victoria by commenting in a sour voice. "He's not a band geek, he does solos every year at Windsor and Harland. My parents said he played at Carnegie Hall last year for some charity benefit."
Victoria and Charla stared at her with twin expressions of astonishment.
"What? I'm just saying," Angie said, ducking her head.
"Why're you keeping tabs on him if you don't like him?" Charla exclaimed with a wink at Victoria.
"Not keeping tabs, and I don't like him. He's good at music, that's all," Angie said. "There's a reason for that but it's not like anyone cares," she muttered under her breath. Victoria frowned. That was the second time Angie had made a snide comment about Christian Devereux.
"What's that?" Victoria asked.
A glare from Angie. She answered Victoria's question with a question of her own. "Doesn't it strike you as weird that he so good at everything?"
"Gabe's like that too though," Victoria pointed out.
Charla smirked. "Two words. Silver spoon. He's like the British princes, doing the works—boarding school, etiquette classes, clarinets, and polo. I wonder what else he's good at." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Angie stared at her, a shocked giggle transforming her dour face. "Char, you did all those things at boarding school," Angie said, still smiling before her tone soured. "And Christian Devereux does not date girls at Windsor. Remember sophomore year?"
"Oh right," Charla said. She turned to Victoria. "I almost got expelled."
"Because of Christian?" Victoria said.
"He was a senior here. Some girl was flirting with Gabriel and Charla was all over Christian to make him jealous. But Christian made it clear that he wasn't interested so Charla knocked the girl's teeth out instead." Victoria gaped at Charla who wore an unperturbed expression.
"You punched someone?"
"She knocked her teeth out," Angie emphasized dryly. "Charla's a black belt."
Victoria stared at Charla's slight figure, skeptical. She looked like an anime doll with her red spirals and huge brown eyes. A black belt?
Charla shrugged. "I had a lot of aggression issues as a child," she said mildly, as if that explained it all. "Therapy and Taekwondo."