A Convenient Proposal(60)
He wanted to listen.
Seated at the piano, Arden paused for a few moments with her hands resting on her thighs, staring at the keys. When she lifted her head, she met Griff’s gaze with an expression he couldn’t read.
Then the music began. He didn’t recognize the flood of notes pouring from the piano, but he knew a master composer when he heard one. Knew, as well, that Arden’s performance was close to flawless. She didn’t have a piano at the beach, in the Miami condo or here in Sheridan, so she couldn’t have practiced for weeks. The woman had to be a musical genius.
He could only imagine what kind of artistry she would demonstrate with a violin.
Each time she came to the end of a selection, the audience applauded wildly. Cries of “More, please,” came from every direction. Arden consented—first with a slow, dreamy piece followed by something fiery and brilliant—but then turned around and held up her hand.
“I’ll play awhile longer,” she announced, in a voice that carried throughout the museum, “but this is not a concert. Please feel free to enjoy the lovely brunch Mrs. Crumpler has provided and your chance to chat with the guests of honor, Zelda Talbot and Al McPherson, the bride and groom-to-be.”
No one moved or spoke for a couple of seconds. Arden stared at them, frowning, and finally made a shooing motion. “Go talk among yourselves,” she ordered.
With a general laugh, the guests broke into groups and conversation resumed, with a piano accompaniment. Now Griff recognized the tunes as popular ballads and show pieces—“easy listening music” played by a virtuoso.
“I can’t believe it.” Lauren came up on one side of him.
On the other side, Dana pinched his arm. “You never said a word.”
Griff didn’t look at either of them.
“Oh, my gosh,” Dana whispered.
Lauren gripped his arm. “You didn’t know?”
He didn’t confirm or deny, and eventually they abandoned him to talk to the rest of his family.
But that left him prey to everyone else, and he couldn’t refuse to talk, though he said as little as possible.
“Yes, she’s terrifically talented.”
“I’m very proud of her, of course.”
“She, uh, wanted to remain incognito, since this is really the time we should be thinking about Zelda and Al. Have you talked to them today? They make a good couple. No, no hard feelings at all. Things work out for the best, don’t they?”
When Al and Zelda came over, the conversation got stickier.
“She’s quite a star,” Zelda said, her eyes a little bright, her voice a little harsh. “Aunt Hilary’s been filling me in.”
Griff stayed silent, to avoid fueling the fire.
Al put his arm around his fiancée. “It’s not that big a deal, Zel.”
“Yes, it is.” She clasped her hands together. “International concerts when she was nine years old. Julliard. Multiple recordings in the stores. Quite a phenomenon, Griff. You should have said something.”
Hearing details he’d never known felt like getting slapped across the face. “I—”
But Zelda had more to say. “I was happy for you, knowing you’d found somebody to love after I canceled the wedding. You could have made me truly jealous, though, with this kind of news. Why wouldn’t you want a…a superstar like Arden Burke? You must be so relieved I didn’t hold you to our wedding.”
This time it was Zelda leaving the room, brushing through the crowd without a word as she escaped.
Griff looked at Al. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, sure.” The groom took off after his runaway bride.
Arden stopped playing soon after that, and was immediately surrounded by the nosy and the purely complimentary. Griff retreated to the food table, consoling himself with smoked salmon sandwiches and lemon bar cookies.
“This is quite a surprise,” his mother said, joining him. “Why do you suppose Arden didn’t tell you any of this?”
“That,” Griff said between gritted teeth, “is what I intend to find out.”
GRIFF SEEMED HIS USUAL smiling self as they said goodbye to Mrs. Crumpler and suffered through her fulsome gratitude for the music.
As soon as the museum door shut behind them, however, his clasp on Arden’s elbow turned to stone. A glance at his face showed her a steely glint in his eyes. She defined the way he closed her car door as a slam.