Cassandra's Song. Carole Gift Page

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      Taking the closest chair, Cassie sat down and smiled politely at the attractive woman walking toward her. In her mid-forties, she was an exotic beauty, with ebony hair, olive skin, red lips and flashing coal-black eyes. Wearing a stylish red velvet evening dress swishing over rounded hips, she was a startling contradiction of elegance and flamboyance.

      The woman flashed a beaming smile as she pointed to the empty chair beside Cassie. “May I?” she asked with the hint of an accent.

      “Please do. I guess we both had the same idea. It’ll be a half hour at least before we can get through the crowd to greet Mr. Pagliarulo.”

      “Oh, I wasn’t waiting for the crowds,” said the woman. “I just wanted to sit down. I never should have worn these insufferable three-inch heels tonight. Next time I will wear my comfortable bunny slippers. I don’t care how silly I look, at least my feet will not be in pain.”

      Cassie stifled a spurt of laughter. The idea of this sophisticated matron wearing bunny slippers was hilariously implausible.

      “You think I am speaking in jest,” the woman said, her smile expanding to reveal perfect white teeth. “Watch this.” With a little flourish she kicked off her shoes and wriggled her stockinged feet. “See? That is much better. Now I may survive this night. Or do I embarrass you with my lack of manners?”

      Cassie chuckled in spite of herself. “Oh, no. I love people who aren’t afraid of what other people think.”

      “Then you are a young lady after my own heart,” said the woman, patting Cassie’s hand. “My name is Juliana. What is yours?”

      “Cassandra. But most people call me Cassie.”

      “I prefer Cassandra,” said Juliana with a little wave of her hand. “It is a regal name. A name for a princess. It fits you well.”

      Cassie smiled. It was Juliana who looked like a princess. Better yet, a queen. “I assure you,” said Cassie, “I’m no princess.”

      “But you carry yourself like one. What do you do? Are you in music…theater? I can imagine you onstage.”

      Cassie felt her cheeks glow. “How did you know?”

      “I see it in your face, the way you carry yourself. You are a creative person. I guessed music because you are here at this concert.”

      “I’m a pianist,” said Cassie. “I’ve performed a few concerts, but nothing as impressive as this. I teach a couple of piano classes here at the university. And I’m the music director at my father’s church.”

      “Your father’s church? That is wonderful,” said Juliana. “It is good to use one’s talents for God.”

      “Yes, it is.”

      “I would love to hear you play sometime.”

      Cassie hesitated. “I—I am playing in a cantata tomorrow night.”

      “Is it nearby?”

      “The Cornerstone Christian Church in La Jolla.”

      “Oh, that isn’t far from here. I might be able to attend.”

      “That would be wonderful.”

      But would she really show up? Cassie wondered. People were always promising to get together or do lunch or stop by, but they rarely followed through.

      Juliana touched Cassie’s arm with graceful, tapered fingers. “You do not believe I will come, do you?”

      “Oh, no, I—”

      “But I will. I must ask my son. He drives me. I have no sense of direction. I would end up in the ocean on my way to Hawaii instead of La Jolla. So I will ask my son and he will bring me.”

      “Oh, do come. Both of you,” said Cassie. “Bring the rest of your family, too. Your husband—”

      “My husband has been dead for many years, so it can only be my son and me.”

      “I’m sorry,” said Cassie quickly. “Listen, I’ll write out the directions for your son. The cantata is at 8:00 p.m., but the church will be crowded, so you may want to come around seven.” Like a lightning bolt, an idea struck Cassie straight out of the blue, but she recognized it instantly as pure genius. This Juliana was a woman even Cassie’s hard-to-please father might find fascinating. No harm in setting something up and seeing what happened.

      “Maybe you would like to join my family afterward for a bite to eat,” Cassie suggested, her plan already brewing. “I would like you to meet my father…and my sisters, too, of course.”

      “Your invitation is very generous,” said Juliana warmly. “I will ask my son. If he has no prior commitment, we will join you.”

      “Wonderful,” said Cassie with a pleased little smile.

      Their conversation broke off as Gilbert returned with two plates of finger sandwiches and cake and paper cups of red punch. He sat down beside Cassie and handed her a plate and cup. “The crowd is thinning out,” he noted. “After we eat I’ll introduce you to Tonio.”

      “Fine,” she said with a nod, then introduced Gilbert to Juliana. “Gilbert and I will be making our way through the crowd to meet Mr. Pagliarulo. Would you like to join us, Juliana?”

      The woman flashed a whimsical smile. “Yes, I may do that. So you have never met Mr. Pagliarulo?”

      “I’ve seen him come and go in the fine arts building, but we haven’t met.” Cassie lowered her voice confidentially. “I’ve heard he is something of a recluse. A loner. Not easy to know. Does he strike you as snobbish or arrogant?”

      Juliana’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh, is that how he seems to you? A snob?”

      “No, not really. Not when he was onstage. He was absolutely wonderful. But I’ve heard others say—”

      Juliana wriggled her stockinged feet back into her shoes and stood up with a jaunty shake of her head. “Come! Let us go see if this Antonio Pagliarulo is an arrogant, unsociable man.”

      Flustered, Cassie handed Gilbert her plate and cup and followed Juliana across the hall. “I didn’t mean…Juliana, wait, please.” Gilbert caught up with them, dropping the paper plates and cups into a trash receptacle. Juliana briskly carved a path for them through the remaining cluster of fans.

      And suddenly Cassie found herself face-to-face with the handsome, mysterious Antonio Pagliarulo. He gazed down at her with shrewd, dark eyes, a smile playing at the curve of his lips. In person, up close, he seemed even more imposing than he had onstage. Larger than life, his very presence was stunning, unnerving. She found herself feeling as tongue-tied as a schoolgirl.

      Gilbert spoke up, his voice taking a shrill high note. “Tonio, I’d like you to meet my date, Cassandra Rowlands.”

      Cassie offered her hand, even though it was trembling and her palm was moist. “Mr. Pagliarulo, I—I enjoyed your performance immensely,” she breathed.

      He СКАЧАТЬ