Nocturne(14)

I took a deep breath. “Just another student who thinks they know everything already.” That wasn’t entirely true of Savannah. She really did have an incredible knowledge of music; it was her constant readiness to challenge me that I found infuriating.

“Savannah Marshall?” Karin asked, looking back to me.

“Yes, you know her?” I sat up straight, suddenly more interested in Karin’s knowledge of Savannah than her knowledge of the conservatory’s endowment.

Karin’s tone brightened. “Of course I know her ... or of her. She has a reputation as a real natural. I heard she played her final piece for her audition with her eyes closed. Weren’t you on that panel?”

Of course I was. “So, what, does that mean she doesn’t practice as hard as the rest of her peers? Does she have license to slack off because people tell her she’s a natural?” I scoffed.

“I didn’t say that, Gregory. In fact, I’m not sure anyone’s ever told her she’s a natural. I do know she does happen to work very hard, but she doesn’t kill herself doing it.”

Karin arched her eyebrow, intending to direct the last part of her sentence to me. Then she said something completely inexplicable. “Of course, how hard she worked really wouldn’t have mattered, in her case.”

Before I could form a rebuttal and ask how exactly she knew anything about Savannah’s abilities, Savannah squealed in delight again. Shifting my gaze back to her end of the bar, my jaw dropped at the sight of Vita Carulli entering the bar and walking straight toward Savannah with a beaming smile on her face. How in the world do those two know each other? I knew nothing of Savannah other than what I could remember from her application to the school, but nothing that I recalled mentioned her studying with Vita Carulli.

I stared openly, pulling my eyebrows together to watch the interaction unfold. Without reverence, but maintaining her ever-present grace, Savannah nearly ran over to Vita and threw her arms around her neck, planting a kiss on her cheek before squeezing her close. Vita returned the gesture.

“What the hell?” I muttered, just under my breath.

“What?” Karin asked, seeming slightly agitated.

“How does Savannah Marshall know Vita Carulli?” I slid off my stool and absentmindedly made my way toward them.

“Gregory, that’s…” I lost Karin’s voice as I weaved through the now tightly packed bar, distracted by this out of place interaction.

As I approached Savannah, my pulse raced. I had to meet Vita.

“It’s so good to see you, darling,” I heard Vita say as I got closer. While I was excited at the prospect of meeting one of the best opera singers in the world within a few seconds, I was now completely invested in how Savannah was close enough to Vita Carulli to have her calling her “darling.”

Before Savannah could respond, she caught me standing there out of the corner of her eye. “Oh, Mr. Fitzgerald … hi.” She seemed caught off guard as she bit her lip and looked between me and Vita.

“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.