Page 35 of Crescendo

Eliza had a tone like an impatient mother trying to urge a teenager to behave. “Hannah.The first composition is the one they’ll be judging us by. It’s going to color their perceptions of us for the whole program.”

“Well, yeah,” Hannah said. “And this is who I am, isn’t it?”

“We have a reputation to manage here,” Eliza said, and Hannah equivocated, clearly not wanting to lose Eliza’s approval. I cut in.

“A little contrast makes you both stand out,” I said. “Next to Hannah’s, Eliza’s classical piece looks even more classical, and next to Eliza’s, Hannah’s modern piece looks even more modern. You’ll help each other out like that.” I paused. “So if you’re going to fight with your girlfriend, take it to another table, we’re all happy at this one.”

Hannah rolled her eyes, looking away, while Eliza huffed at me. “Oh, would you mind your business, Lydia?” she said, her accent slipping a little.

Well, well. Eliza was just brushing me off, but Hannah had a certain je ne sais quoi about her. Wondered how much of the lackey act was born of a crush on Eliza. She needed better taste.

Bansi nodded enthusiastically. “Lydia’s right, though. You both embrace your own styles. That’s the most important part.”

Eliza waved him off. “Bansi, darling, have you evernotthought Lydia was right?”

Bansi, bless his little cotton socks, actually seemed to stop and think about it.

“When I’m right, I’m right,” I said lightly. “It’s not going to go well if you’re pretending to be something you’re…”

I trailed off sharply when—perfectly casual, as if nothing was happening, without Ella giving a single sign of anything—she placed her hand on my knee. I guess I’d invited this.

“Well, something you’re not,” I said finally, pulling my thoughts back to the present.

Eliza scowled. “Are you telling me I’m fake, then, is that it?”

“I’m not saying anything,” I said, barely paying attention to Eliza anymore as Ella’s fingers crept up just a bit higher. I surprised myself with the intensity of how my mind reacted—sudden, vivid thoughts of taking that hand and putting it where I really wanted it…

“Dare I say,” Eliza mused, “you might just be trying to distract from your own crisis of confidence. How are you feeling about yours, Lydia? Positively over the moon with delight about it?”

Hm. That was a pretty clever shot on her part. Pity I didn’t notice because this incredibly sexy woman sitting next to me was running her silky-soft fingers over my thigh. “I think I have quite a lot of inspiration these days,” I said. “I’ve found a lot of things here in London to stir a lot of feelings.”

Ella, not looking at me, smiled a little. Thiswomanwas too damn good at this, and she clearly liked knowing that she was.

“Hm. Then I guess we’ll see,” Eliza said, as the food came out to the table, and she took her drink and raised it towards mine. “Here’s to our first compositions,” she said, and Ella, with one last daring leap up my thigh, took her hand off me to pick up her drink, meeting everybody in the middle.

And I spent the rest of the meal not thinking a damn thing about the music and thinking entirely of where I wanted Ella’s fingers. And of where I wanted mine.

The second half of classes felt like they lasted forever, and when we finally got out, I made sure to be waiting at the front doors when Ella came down the steps with just a bit more vigor about her than usual, stopping with her eyes lighting up at the sight of me.

“Lydia—hey,” she said. “Did I keep you waiting?”

“Mm. You certainly have.”

“Ah.” Just like that, she went scarlet, trying to play it cool. Affectionately speaking—she did a horrible job. “Well, I don’t want to keep you any longer, then. Are you heading back to the apartment?”

“Of course. I have something special in mind for lessons today.”

She swallowed, giving me a wide-eyed look. Seemed like the girl confident and assertive enough to start feeling me up under the table was not here at the moment. “And what might that be?”

“I’ll show you when we get back. Unless you need dinner first?”

“No, I, uh—I think I’ll be quite all right, actually,” she said. “Well, let’s… let’s get a wiggle on, then.”

God, she was cute when she was embarrassed. I bet she’d be fun to tease. “A wiggle, indeed,” I said, and she cleared her throat.

“Ah—it just means, you know, let’s go.”

“I know. Well, wiggle away, then,” I said, gesturing her to the door ahead of me, and she laughed nervously stepping out the door.

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