As I followed Madeline up the steps of the house, I found myself wondering for the fiftieth time if I should have gone out somewhere else. The past few weeks had been wonderful. I’d attended Tanglewood as a student during my summers in high school, but I’d never guessed that it was just as much an education for the instructors as it is for the students. And one thing I’d learned in the last few weeks was that I was a good teacher.
It was gratifying that I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Increasingly, Madeline had left me to my own devices as she became more confident in my abilities.
All the same, I was still a bit of a loner. Not really an instructor, though technically I was on the faculty for the summer. I was separated by age and by the fact that the rest of the faculty were professional musicians, most of them with tenured positions at the Boston Symphony Orchestra. More than one of them had given me the cold shoulder because of my youth and status as a not yet graduated student at the conservatory. At the same time, I was four years older than most of the students.
Madeline had brought up dinner casually a couple of days before. “I’m going to be having dinner Friday night with James Mahone. You know him? He’s an oboe instructor at the conservatory.”
“He was on the panel for my audition,” I had replied. “He seems like a nice guy, I’ve seen him around school.”
So here we were. I was still a little lost in my thoughts as she knocked on the door, my eyes on the wooden porch, so when I looked up and saw Gregory Fitzgerald standing in the doorway, I sucked in a quick breath.
Gregory wore a tight black t-shirt and black pants. Typical. Slim, fit, with his muscular arms and shoulders, he was more than a little bit unnerving. He was obviously relaxed, padding around in his black socks with no shoes. What is he doing here? Stupid question, I guess. I knew James and Gregory were friends, or at least I’d seen them off campus drinking together. I’d managed to avoid Gregory so far this summer. Because really, what’s the point of spending time with someone you’re falling for, if they don’t return the feeling? And I’d finally admitted to myself, just a little, that I was falling for Gregory. It was more than a passing kiss in a rainstorm. It was that I wanted to kiss him again. In the rain, in the sun, anywhere I could.
But I couldn’t. He didn’t want that.
I swallowed. Why did he have to be here? Why didn’t Madeline warn me? Ugh, she wouldn’t know to warn me, I guess, given she knew nothing of the rumors from the past semester. That was long gone, and we were both adults. She certainly didn’t know about the kiss.
I actually wanted to run. My throat was dry, my hands trembling, as Gregory gave a tight half smile and said, “Madeline ... S-Miss Marshall ... please come in.”
He stepped back away from the door, and I followed Madeline in. My muscles were tight as I walked past him, and I had no idea where to set my eyes. As he reached to close the door behind me, he brushed against my shoulder. I jerked back a little bit. His touch lit me up more than I was comfortable with, given the setting. I forced my eyes anywhere but on him because I needed to cool the heat circling around my neck.
“It’s very good to see you again,” he said in a low rumble.
My breath caught a little, and I whispered, “You too, Mr. Fitzgerald.”
Madeline gave Gregory an annoyed smile. “I don’t think the two of you need to stand on ceremony any more. After all, she’s on the faculty this summer.”
Gregory’s eyes flashed at Madeline, then back to me. He nodded, and spoke in a low, tense voice, as his eyes locked on mine. Their bright crystal reflection made my heart race. “Of course. Savannah.”
Pulling my shoulders back slightly to fake some confidence, I nodded. “Gregory. Nice to see you.” Smiling because I’d made his eyes widen a little at my response, I shuffled by him and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
James met us in the living room. “Thank you both for coming.” He gave Madeline a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, and echoed the greeting with me. I liked James a lot, and I was interested to find out more about how he and Madeline maintained their friendship with Gregory for so long without doing him any physical harm.
“Thank you for having us over. You have a lovely home. I brought this to have with dinner.” I held out my hand, giving him the bottle of Cabernet Franc I brought.
James eyed the label. “Impressive. A vintage? From Villa Vignamaggio?” He looked at me, surprised.
I nodded, my cheeks heating slightly. “It’s the best. Most of their vineyard produces Chianti, but, some of their land is reserved for this Cabernet Franc, and it’s incredible.” James held the bottle out to Gregory, who took it and studied it with the same reverence I’d seen him use while looking over sheet music. “Their vineyard is stunning in the summer,” I added with a smile.
“You’ve been?” Gregory met my eyes, and I saw a flicker of life pass through his eyes. It was the same look I’d caught on his face when Nathan spun me around on the dance floor of that salsa club in Boston. Passion, maybe? Internally I caught myself about to roll my eyes, wondering if he was a wine snob, too. I decided, however, to play nice.
“Yes,” I nodded, “my mom … I spent a lot of summers in Europe before entering the Institute.” I shrugged and held out my hand. “Shall I open it?” Wrapping my hand around the neck of the bottle, my pinky grazed his thumb, making me pull my hand away quickly.
“I’ll do it.” Gregory turned on his heels and paced into the kitchen, where I heard the familiar pop of the cork a few seconds later.
“Please, come sit. I’ll help Gregory with the wine, and I’ll bring out the food.” James gestured to the large black lacquered dining table.