“That makes sense.” I nodded, unable to look at Gregory. But, I had to—I needed to be a grown-up about this. “Gregory,” I cleared my throat as all eyes fell on me.
“Yes?” His eyes were intense, and I almost lost my words.
“I just wanted to assure you that I had nothing to do with those rumors spreading—”
He waved his hand, as he always did when he found something exasperating. “Please, Savannah, the thought never crossed my mind.”
“Okay, I just wanted to make sure, because … I know how stressful things can get for students academically, and the lengths some students would go to get a good grade. I would never—”
“Savannah,” he cut me off sternly but with a softness in his eyes I’d never seen. “I never once thought that of you. You’re an excellent student with a good head on your shoulders. Well, I suppose you’re no longer a student…” He cleared his throat before continuing. “Despite your regular disregard for my authority in the classroom—”
“What?” I cut him off with a chuckle. Watching the corners of his mouth turn up in a grin, I caught on. “Oh, you’re baiting me …” I looked down, heat filling my face as I bit my lip.
“I learned from the best.” He laughed freely, patting James on the shoulder as he stood and began collecting our plates from the table.
I’d only heard him laugh once before. And that precipitated our kiss. I had to freeze and isolate that awareness. Because his laugh did things to my emotional makeup I couldn’t even identify. So I pretended, and the rest of us joined him in apparently comfortable laughter.
Gregory re-entered the dining room, looking far more relaxed than I’d ever seen him. He still had a slight crease between his eyebrows, though, and I began to wonder what he was holding in there. “Would you ladies like to stay for some coffee?”
Madeline and James shared a shocked look. I smiled, and without asking what Madeline wanted to do, I replied, “I’d like that.”
Gregory
“How hospitable of you.” James arched his eyebrow as he reached behind me to grab four coffee mugs.
“Sarcasm?” I shot back just as sarcastically.
“You nearly passed out when you found out who was coming to dinner, and after that whole rumor conversation I figured you’d want them out of here as soon as possible.” He turned so his back was against the counter, crossing his arms across his chest.
Keeping my voice quiet, I answered. “I had no idea that Savannah thought I’d assume she’d had anything to do with those rumors. The thought never crossed my mind.”
“Why do you care what she thought, Gregory? You don’t care what anyone thinks,” he challenged.
“That’s not true.” What was he talking about? Of course I cared. Well. I felt my eyebrow wrinkle a little, and I thought about it. Okay, so I usually didn’t care. But … I was starting to care a great deal about what Savannah Marshall thought … of me.
I went on. “I didn’t realize how much a rumor like this could affect a student. You and I know how foolish rumors are, but the students don’t, apparently. You and Madeline were right, James. Savannah’s talented and works hard. I’ll help support that any way I can.” My hands shook slightly as I poured the coffee, and I realized that my monologue wasn’t making a lot of sense.
That’s because my thoughts were muddled. After only two weeks of helping Madeline, it was clear Savannah was a natural teacher as well. That was troubling, given Madeline’s hypothesis that Savannah might not be fully committed to a career in playing.
“Just be careful,” he muttered as he took two mugs and shuffled into the living room.
Carrying the other two mugs into the living room, my breath involuntarily caught at the sight of Savannah on the oversized leather loveseat. She was sitting up straight, highlighting her years of orchestral training. Her poise was evident in the way her long, tanned legs were crossed at the ankles and her hands were resting in the lap of her green summer dress. The soft waves of her golden hair were hanging carelessly over her shoulders, as they always did. Her smile interrupted my staring.
“Thank you.” Savannah smiled brighter as she took the mug, wrapping her long fingers around it and leaning back against the couch.
James and Madeline were sitting rather close on the opposite couch, so I took a seat next to Savannah. Sitting slowly, I thought I felt her eyes on me, but when I looked up she was simply staring into her coffee cup. She hadn’t yet taken a sip.
“So, Savannah,” James leaned forward, “I’m dying to know what it was like growing up with Vita Carulli. It must have been a fascinating experience.”
Had he gone mad? Madeline seemed to think so too, given the crooked glance she shot in his direction. Savannah had brought up her mother’s name in my presence exactly once, and in a tone that made it clear she felt overshadowed, uncomfortable. And the one time I met her mother, in her presence, Savannah was reserved. Tense even. I didn’t know what the reasons were, but it was clear that relationship was extremely strained.
“James, certainly we can find something else to discuss—” I tried to offer an exit from an already uncomfortable evening for Savannah, but she cut me off.
“Oh, no, it’s fine.” She spoke softly as she placed her mug on the side table.
Though she pulled off a practiced smile, her two-second blink before she started speaking suggested I should pay very close attention. Savannah ran a hand through her long hair and started talking.
“Growing up with Vita Carulli is … a loose term, James. The three of us lived in Italy together until I was twelve. Any growing up I did after that was with my father and his parents in Philadelphia.”
Her voice and expression seemed wistful, but apparently James was tone deaf to it, because he kept talking.
“Wow, what did you like most about Italy?”