“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 determined 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.