Authors: Ann Cristy
Teel turned to see Ben's hard
smile and fought to control the sudden fear that gripped her. Once, long ago, a
very young Teel Barrett had confided to her hero, Ben Windom, that the reason
she had never continued with a music career was that performing in front of
people filled her with terror that rendered her immobile. "You
bastard," Teel whispered through lips that had suddenly turned icy cold.
Ignoring her, Ben continued,
his mouth twisting in amusement at her epithet, "I knew Teel the summer
she modeled in New York. Sometimes I could persuade her to play and sing for
me." He began to applaud, looking straight at Teel. Soon others followed
suit.
Teel looked desperately around
the room. The only face that registered on her was Chazz's, which seemed carved
from white fury. Her eyes flew over the others blindly, then back to Chazz. His
expression changed, and then he was pushing his way toward her, propelling
people out of his path.
"Come on, Teel,
play," Trevor said from somewhere.
Play. Play. Play.
Teel heard the words repeated over and over as if in a dream
and shuddered. She seemed to hear her first teacher telling her mother that the
only cure for Teel's shyness was to make her play in front of an audience. She
heard her mother's doubtful voice replying that she didn't want to force her
daughter. Teel remembered her teacher's words later, when they were alone.
"Think how disappointed and unhappy your parents will be if you don't
play, Teel," she had said. Teel had played—and hated it. And as the years
passed, she realized that Mrs. Curtin had forced her to play not from a love of
music but because she hadn't wanted to lose a pupil—or the pupil's money. By
the time Teel had reached college she was proficient in both voice and piano.
It seemed natural to gravitate to the study of music at Nazareth College. But by her junior year she had switched to special education and was much happier. She
still played for herself—and sometimes a few friends— but she had never played
in front of so many people as were gathered here. Everyone was looking at her
expectantly, yet she felt rooted to the spot, incapable of moving to the piano
bench, much less making the ivory keys produce beautiful music. Panic engulfed
her. She was trapped, humiliated.
"You're frightened,
darling." Suddenly Chazz was there, putting his arm around her. 'Tell me
what's wrong," he murmured for her ears alone. "I don't want anything
to frighten you ever." His deep, soothing voice penetrated her numb brain,
warming her and unlocking the ice that seemed to encase her limbs. Chazz's
touch generated new life in her, making her blood flow once again and firing
her resolve.
"I'll play—if
you stay with me," she whispered, biting her lip to still its trembling.
Chazz's eyes leaped with
golden fire. "Oh, angel, why do you say such things in front of a roomful
of people? Of course I'll stay with you." He kissed her lips gently,
rubbing his mouth back and forth in a way that left her yearning for more of
his touch and taste. "But you don't have to play if that's what's making
you afraid. Is it?"
"Stay with me."
"Always."
Chazz hooked her close to his side with one strong arm and turned to follow the
assembled group, who were moving toward the grand piano by the floor-
to-ceiling bow windows.
As Chazz pulled
out the bench and seated her carefully on it, Teel felt as though she had
crossed some invisible bridge. He released his hold on her and she swung around
on the bench to look up at him. She needed him near her. "Will you put
your hand on my shoulder while I play?" she asked quietly.
"Darling! Of course I
will." Chazz's gaze remained fixed on her. The excitement she saw there,
the golden fire, warmed her to her very core, releasing her from the fear.
His touch on her shoulder was
her impetus. She bent over the keys with relaxed absorption and Rachmaninoff
spilled from her fingers. She barely heard the 'Ohhs' and 'Ahhs,' as she
switched to show tunes. Even after five songs she didn't sing, the whispered
pleas from the onlookers failing to touch her.
Finally Chazz squeezed her
shoulder and leaned close.
"Will you sing a song,
love?" he asked. "Everyone's been asking you to sing, but you don't
have to if you don't want to."
Teel nodded, her fingers
picking out the notes before she knew what she would sing. The song, "I'll
Always Choose You," had poignant lyrics and, as she sang them, some part
of her seemed to stand outside herself and judge the quality of her singing.
Her phrasing was good, she decided, her low register pleasing, even seductive,
she realized with surprise. But why had she chosen this song? For Chazz. The
answer came without volition. She paused, then finished, "... for the one
to share my life with, I'll always choose you." And then she looked up
into his face.
Absolute silence filled the
room as Chazz looked down at her. The others seemed to fade away, and they were
alone. Teel felt protected and cared for, as safe as she had felt on the
Deirdre.
For a moment she
seemed to float free of the room, free of the planet.
Then Trevor said, "Well
done, well done." He began clapping. The others joined him, and Teel's
awareness of her surroundings returned. The old fear began to sneak over her
once again.
Chazz helped her up from the
bench. "You're so beautiful, and I'm so proud of you. I want you so
much." His voice was hoarse with emotion, and he leaned down and closed
his mouth over Teel's as if they were alone in the room.
Why hadn't he said he loved
her?
Teel sighed sadly to herself as her arms
slipped up and around his neck. She held him fiercely, desperately. She could
never hold him forever, but she would hold him for this one moment.
"Release her, will you,
old man?" Trevor's sardonic voice broke the spell.
Teel pushed away from Chazz,
and he lifted his head, his irritation at the interruption clear on his face.
"Your aunt's guests," Teel reminded him.
"Damn them." Chazz
kissed the tip of her nose and allowed Teel to push back from him, but he
didn't release her entirely. One strong arm still fastened her to his side.
Teel accepted the
congratulations of the guests, knowing that she could never have played for
them if Chazz hadn't supported her.
Finally she met Ben Windom's
malevolent gaze and flinched.
She sensed Chazz's eyes on her
as her body tensed in rejection of her former lover. She felt Chazz's intent
look follow the direction of hers. "What has Windom to do with you,
Teel?" he demanded.
"I'll tell you
later," she promised, looking up at him. "He's only a minor
irritation."
"Is he? Is that why you
looked so stricken when he announced that you would sing and play?" Once
again Chazz's face appeared to be carved from marble, his flesh resembling the
unfinished form from a sculptor's chisel
Teel studied his expression,
and was unable to read it. But she recognized his implacable desire to know the
answer to his question. She nodded and sighed. "All right, I'll tell you, but
first I must—" She glanced at the people around them.
"Yes, speak to them. You
deserve their accolades. You are a most talented lady."
Trevor was there kissing her
hand as Chazz melted into the crowd. Others took his place. Tilda appeared with
tears in her eyes. "My dear, my dear. That was just beautiful. You love my
boy, and you told him so,
so
sweetly." Despite her tears, Tilda Charles studied Teel
with shrewd eyes. "You mustn't worry about it," she added
confidentially. "He's too in love with you to read the signs."
Teel gasped. "He isn't in
love with me. He—he just wants me," she blurted out, then pressed her fist
to her mouth, cursing her gaucherie.
Tilda Charles studied her
critically, her sparrow eyes snapping, making the clotted lashes look even more
unlikely. "Well, well." She nodded. "So the two of you are
playing hide and seek with your feelings, eh? Perhaps that's best." She
reached up and kissed Teel's cheeks. "I'm going to my studio to make some
sketches of you. Come along in thirty minutes or so." She shrugged toward
her guests. "They can take care of themselves. Monroe can handle
everything for a while." She frowned. "I wonder why Chazz is being so
chummy with that Windom fellow. I really don't like the man and can't imagine
what he's doing here. He's such a fool. Thinks people don't realize that he
looks down on them. Pluperfect jackass." She patted Teel's cheek, then
tiptoed away on her ridiculously high heels.
For a moment Teel watched
Chazz moving from guest to guest, then she wandered over to the small bar and
poured herself a Perrier and lime with lots of ice.
Suddenly
Chazz was looking down at her, his eyes conveying a fierce warning that he
would stand for nothing but the truth. "Now tell me why you're afraid of
that man,” he demanded.
Teel stared up
at Chazz, assailed by an unexpected feeling of fate taking
control of her life. Chazz might look at her with scorn and contempt, but there
could be nothing but the truth between them. She would never allow a man like
Windom to hold anything over her head. Let the sword of Damocles fall.
"I'm not afraid of him,
Chazz," she answered quietly. "I despise him."
Chazz ran an anxious hand
through his hair, tousling it in a way that made Teel's heart ache with
yearning and led her to a bow window in the dining area, where there was some
measure of privacy. "Were you in love with him?" he asked.
"I thought I was."
She kept her eyes steady on him. "At eighteen my standards were high, my judgment
low. I was just starting a summer modeling job when I
met him.
I thought he was the
man of my dreams."
Chazz swallowed. "I
see."
"I let him make love to
me, thinking that we were going to get married. I was a virgin and fully
intended to keep my virginity for the man who would be my husband." She
felt her chin tremble and bit down on her lip. "I suppose most women feel
that way."
"I suppose." Chazz's
mouth hardly moved.
"Tonight he
wanted me to intercede with you so that you would do business with colleagues
of his. I told him to drop dead. That's why he introduced me as a
musician—"
"You're a fine
musician," Chazz broke in.
"—so that he could use my
pathological fear of performing in front of people to humiliate me." Teel
felt her face crumbling. "You gave me the strength to perform."
Chazz reached out to grip her
forearm. "Windom tried to intimidate you?"
"Yes"
"I see."
"Do you believe me?"
"Of course." His voice was flat,
almost vague.
Teel's stomach churned. "Tilda wants me to
go to her studio," she told him, unable to stay with him a moment longer.
"What? Oh—all
right." Chazz led her through an archway out to a hallway and pointed to a
door at the end of the corridor. "There. If she's ready for you, she'll
open the door. I'll be along in a few minutes. I have some calls to make."
Teel walked down the short hall
like an automaton. Chazz hadn't looked at her with hatred, but after years of
dealing in the business world he was adept at hiding his feelings. Her hand
reached out to turn the knob, a numbness spreading through her body, mind and
spirit.
Wasn't she getting
her wish? Now that he knew all about her shameful relationship with Ben Windom,
Chazz would leave her alone. Wasn't that what she had wanted all along?
She pushed open the door to
see an engrossed Tilda Charles, a sketch pad on her knee, her small hand
flashing rapidly across the page, then flipping to a clean sheet in rapid
motion.
Teel stood there for long
moments, staring at the woman without really seeing her. By the time she
focused on where she was and realized that she should leave Tilda to her work,
the woman looked up.
"Teel, dear, just the
person I wanted to see. Would you step over to that platform? It will only take
a few minutes."
Teel nodded, glad that no
words were required of her. Her jaw seemed to be locked into place. She was
almost sorry when, several minutes later, Tilda told her to come down from the
platform.
"Ah—I wasn't sure about
the eyes. I should have known they would be green, like that exquisite emerald
Chazz has given you." Tilda smiled at her as she darted quick looks at Teel,
then back at her sketch book. "You're bringing out the romantic in that
tough boy of mine," she said, pausing for a moment, her pencil falling
still. "You know you're the first woman to break through that barrier of
his. For many years I thought I'd be the only one ever to really know
him." Her face took on a dreamy look. "He's much like his father.
What a wonderful man Itzak was. I think that's why I never married. I could
never find a love like my sister had. How they loved each other! It was extraordinary
to see. They seemed to mold each other with their love." She nodded once,
her birdlike eyes snapping. "It was sad when they died, but I was glad
that they died together. I don't think one could have lived without the
other." She smiled at Teel. "I knew my boy would love like his father
if he ever found the right woman."