Shine
By Luna
Chapter 7: She sallied forth into the village
Beth was awed as she stepped out of the bus on to the curb and looked up at the massive apartment building that towered above her. The large sandstone building was an impressive piece of architecture. Beth liked it at once.
Carla greeted her on the lobby floor, and they had a loud reunion filled with many hugs in the foyer. She had hardly been able to contain her excitement on the plane ride to San Francisco. Beth couldn't help squealing as she was finally with her friend again.
She was ushered into the apartment by Carla with great pride. It was nice, with pretty wooden floors, high ceilings, and bright, interestingly colored walls. Beth could see Carla's design all over the apartment. The apartment was spacious, and quiet. The kind of place Beth loved. She told Carla so, and watched her glow with the compliment.
"I'm glad you like it. Here's the guest room you'll be staying in." Carla said, opening a door in the hallway. They continued the tour, and as they walked into the living room Beth could hear strains of Beethoven wafting through the air.
"Do you hear that music?" she asked Carla quietly.
"It's coming from the floor above us. Something about this room transmits the sound so well. I think it's the vents." She pointed to one high on the wall near the ceiling in the corner. It was wonderful imagery for Beth's imagination. She could picture all the little notes flying out of the vent and floating around in the air.
"Do they normally play classical music?"
"It's Ms Bourgh; she's always got some kind of classical stuff on. Sometimes it drives me crazy, but mostly I don't even hear it anymore.
"Who is she?" Beth asked curiously. Carla had told her months before, but she wanted more details.
"She's filthy rich. She owns a ton of real estate in San Francisco. She's widowed. I'm not sure how her husband died. I never asked. I know she has a daughter, Anne. Actually..." Carla got a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "I've heard a little rumor that Anne's all set up to be with your friend, Will Darcy. Catherine is his great aunt or something."
"Interesting," Beth said, looking around the room, and then it hit her. "Wait a minute, doesn't that make Will and Anne cousins?" she asked disbelievingly.
"Oh Yes. Kinky isn't it?" Carla joked.
"Very," Beth said, thinking of Colin warily.
They had Chinese delivered for dinner and talked about Carla's new life. Carla was loving every minute of working at the gallery. Beth was happy for her friend, but by the end of dinner she couldn't keep her yawns down any longer. It had been a very long day. Carla laughed and took pity on Beth. She sent her off to bed with a cheerful goodnight and an, 'I'll see you in the morning.'
As Beth lay there, she decided she was glad she had come. She couldn't wait for the fun she knew she and Carla would have. She loved it when she knew just where life would take her. Surprises were overrated.
Beth woke early the next morning to the sound of her phone ringing. She was surprised that Jane was calling so early before she remembered the time difference.
"You'll never guess who I ran into," Jane said in feigned nonchalance once she and Beth had said hello.
"Who?" asked Beth, playing along. She knew it was going to be Charles.
"Caroline Bingley."
"Oh!" She was surprised after all. "The devil herself. How did that go?"
Jane's effort to be cool seemed to be over. She sighed angrily.
"You were so right about her! She treated me like dirt when we met. I was so embarrassed. I didn't know how to act, or what to say. I know I made a fool out of myself. She was just so cold to me. I never expected her to act that way. You were right, Beth. I should have listened when you told me how she was," she finished hurriedly.
"Believe me; I didn't want to be right. Not this time at least." She voiced her question timidly, afraid of asking and hoping too much. "Did you talk to Charles?"
Jane's forced calmness was back. "Oh no," she said. "He was out of state visiting someone. Caroline says he and Anna Darcy are spending a lot of time together. I guess they hit it off pretty well. I didn't want to pry."
Beth let out a breath of air in disgust. "Jane, I'm sure she was lying. It's just wishful thinking on her part. If her brother and Will's sister get together she's hoping that maybe Will would finally pay her a little attention. It's pathetic! And it's not true. Charles loves you!" Beth had to say what was on her mind.
"Beth," Jane said flatly. "Please. Let's not go there. I don't want to talk about him anymore, or this summer, or anything having anything to do with that." There was uncomfortable silence on both ends.
'So what can I talk about?' Beth thought miserably. "So, how 'bout them Yankees?"
"What are these?" Beth asked, holding up a pair of tickets so that Carla could see. She'd just finished enjoying a quiet dinner with Carla when her eyes fell on the envelope on the counter. She looked closer and was able to read the name of an art studio before Carla began to speak.
"I thought you might like to come to the gallery. There's a show tonight for the new collection. There should be all sorts of socialites and C-list celebrities. Those tickets probably sold for 250 dollars, but they give them to you free when you work there..." Carla finished puckishly.
Beth smiled excitedly. "That sounds amazing!" She bit the corner of her lip. "But I didn't bring anything to wear to something like this."
"You can borrow something of mine," Carla said. Beth smiled again. Carla had something of a shopping addiction, and so going through her closet was like shopping in a designer store for free. Beth was just thankful that they were similar enough in size to share clothing.
She instantly fell in love with a simple, strapless dress of shimmering red fabric. She borrowed a pair of black heels and a necklace with a large, single black stone on a chain. She liked the way the cold stone felt against her neck. It wasn't every night that she got to dress up for a party, and so Beth took extra care in getting ready.
Beth was positively giddy on the ride to the gallery. She was more than jealous of Carla, who suddenly had a big-girl life of her own complete with a nice apartment and a steady job where she got to attend expensive parties for free.
The gallery was crowded. Beth felt small compared to the arching white walls and the expansive dark hardwood floor. She looked around, but didn't see any celebrities, only a crowd of unusually attractive people. Everyone was slender and tan. As Beth and Carla stood getting their bearings, a waiter came by with a tray of champagne, and Carla grabbed two flutes for them.
"Here's to us," she said smiling, and Beth laughed at the simple toast, feeling everything was right in the world. She liked the taste of the cool, crisp bubbles, and the feeling of importance she got from standing in a posh gallery drinking champagne. She wished that Jane could be with her to enjoy the party, and that Lydia could see her just so she would be jealous.
Shortly after they had arrived, Carla was pulled to a back room to help with a misplaced painting, and Beth was left to wander the gallery by herself.
Standing amid the crowd of people in her borrowed heels and dress, drinking her second glass of champagne, Beth was both extremely happy and a little drunk. And perhaps the latter had something to do with the former.
She was quite happy to be alone, as she could take as long as she liked to look at the artwork on display. Some of it was simply astounding, like the painting with the mass of swirling colors that looked like chaos until it became clear that the picture was just as strictly ordered and beautiful as a melody. Beth stared at the painting for a long while, wondering if everyone was seeing the same beauty she was.
Not having her own conversations allowed her to listen to others, and she couldn't help but inwardly laugh at the pundit who was trying to explain the deep meaning behind the pieces of spun glass in a case that were so obviously shaped like sperm. Beth rolled her eyes and turned to see Carla waving her over.
Beth hurried over, happy to see that her friend had returned from the missing painting quest. Beth was a bit nonplussed at the older woman with whom Carla was speaking until the thought finally hit her that perhaps this was the infamous Ms. Bourgh.
Carla confirmed her suspicion as she introduced Beth. "Catherine, this is my very good friend Beth, who's visiting all the way from Maryland. Beth, this is Catherine Bourgh. She owns my beautiful apartment building."
The thought that Will was very much like his aunt was the first thing that came to Beth's mind. Catherine was tall, at least a full inch taller than Beth, and it was obvious that she had once been very beautiful. She stood in a way that reminded Beth very strongly of Will. Chalk it up with the dark hair, now flecked with small amounts of gray, and Beth could definitely see the resemblance. The only difference was their eyes. Catherine Bourgh was known for her piercing blue eyes, while Will's eyes, on the other hand, were green as grapes.
Her handshake was firm, almost to the point of pain, and Beth tried not to flinch. Catherine didn't seem like a woman she wanted to appear weak in front of. Her dress was simple, conservative and black, but the ostentatious diamond necklace gave away the fact that Ms. Bourgh was rolling in money.
"Charmed, I'm sure," Catherine murmured before turning her eyes to the crowd. "I came here for a new piece for my living room and got a spectacle instead. How marvelous."
She said it in complete deadpan, and so Beth wasn't sure if she meant it sarcastically or not. To be sure, some of the women walking around the gallery were wearing inappropriately small dresses, but Beth hadn't thought anything of it. Catherine apparently did not agree.
"Well," Catherine said, turning her attention back to Beth. "Bennet was your last name you said? Any relation to the Bennettes in Arizona?"
Beth had to shake her head no, and Catherine sighed. "That's a shame. They make wonderful diamond jewelry. Where is it in Maryland that you live?"
Either Ms. Bourgh was especially quizzical that night, or Beth caught her interest, for she asked Beth many questions, some quite a ways off from polite inquiry. Catherine was especially interested in her family. She seemed to be trying to find a mutual acquaintance to talk about. Unfortunately, the Bennets and Ms. Bourgh came from very different social circles.
Catherine paused in the questioning for a moment and looked critically at Beth, who immediately began to feel uncomfortable. Talking to Catherine was a scary experience; having her gaze silently was much worse.
"Your face has lovely bone structure." She said it almost grudgingly, and Beth gaped and blushed, unsure of what to do with the sudden compliment, but Catherine was continuing. "But I didn't think curly hair was in style any longer. At least, not the way you're wearing it. Do you ever straighten it?"
Beth blinked, too surprised to be offended. Catherine's style of mixing compliments with insults threw her off, and it took her a second to respond.
"No, not really. I--." Catherine cut her off before she could finish the sentence. She was looking critically at Beth again, and Beth braced herself for a nasty comment. However all Catherine asked was her age.
"I'm 18." Beth said, thankful she wasn't holding a champagne flute any more. She wished she could think of a polite way to end her conversation with Catherine. Carla was busy speaking with one of her coworkers, and all the attention was making Beth uncomfortable; she never knew when Catherine was going to slide in one of her biting critiques.
Catherine didn't look pleased at the sound of Beth's age. "Only 18. That's too young to be gallivanting about the country. You should be at home getting ready for college. My great-nephew is going to be a junior in college, Pemberley University, of course, just like his dear father. He's such an exceptional boy, so smart, and—why are you grinning like that?" Catherine demanded, breaking off mid-sentence. Beth was grimacing, not grinning, but she answered that she had met Will on a previous occasion.
Catherine seemed surprised that she and Will had an acquaintance, which immediately made Beth feel contrary. In any other circumstance she would have pretended to not know Will very well, but the fact that Catherine didn't think she was good enough to be friends with Will made Beth want to pretend that they were best friends. Beth made a few comments about spending vacation with Will at the beach house, which made Catherine frown.
She smiled happily a second later though. "Yes, well Will usually spends his summer vacations with me. In fact--"
But Beth had spotted a way out of the conversation, and she cut Catherine off. "Oh no, I think I left my jacket in the bathroom. It was lovely meeting you, but if you'll excuse me..."
She hadn't worn a jacket, and she certainly hadn't left it in the bathroom, but Catherine didn't know that.
"By all means dear," Catherine said, waving her off. With a happy sigh Beth walked away into the crowd. She hoped she'd never have to have a one on one conversation with Catherine Bourgh ever again.
In the time that Beth had spent talking with Catherine the gallery had cleared out a little. She noticed several paintings and a sculpture that she had missed the first time around, and she walked over to check them out. The same man who had been speaking about the spun glass sperm was now lecturing about the sculpture. It was decidedly modern, showing a head with three faces with pieces of glass like a mirror on the wall behind it. An attractive blond woman at his elbow was absorbing every word the man said.
His speech was dotted with words like 'nouveau' and 'deco' but Beth was certain that the majority of what he was saying was complete nonsense. She was suddenly struck with a wicked idea.
She walked up to stand on the other side of the man and began nodding emphatically to the points he was making. He gave her a nod and continued with his lecture about the sculpture. When he broke off to take a breath, Beth, with as much dignity as she could muster, said "I think the artist must have been profoundly influenced by the Jacobean period."
She'd gone for the most obscure and irrelevant era she could think of, but the man was nodding as seriously as if she'd made a real point.
"Yes, yes perhaps," he murmured, his chin is his hands, and Beth had to fight hard not to burst out laughing. He was posing as an art critic just to impress the blond woman at his arm.
"It's pure Machiavelli if you ask me," said another, deeper male voice behind them. "Just look at the end result."
The man nodded again, but he hurriedly ushered the blond woman away to another painting, afraid that he was about to be exposed.
Beth smiled, happy at the thought that someone else had caught on to her game, but her smile waned as she realized the voice was oddly familiar.
She turned around to see who else had spoken and was at eye level with a nice pair of shoulders in a perfectly tailored blazer. A wave of dismay came over her. She finally looked up to meet a familiar pair of green eyes looking down at her.
"What are you doing here?" they asked at the same time.
"Carla works here," she answered. "I'm visiting her before school starts."
"My aunt lives in the city. My cousin and I are visiting her before school starts."
"Cousin?" It was all Beth could think of to say. Will's presence and the smile that he was flashing at her had knocked her off kilter.
"Yeah. He's around here somewhere."
Will opened his mouth to ask her something else, but Beth never got to find out what it was. A man with an expensive looking camera dangling from his neck interrupted their conversation.
"Can I take your picture for San-Fran Scene. com? Great. Get closer together; don't be shy."
Beth's only consolation was that Will looked just as confused and as much like a deer in headlights as she did.
"Oh--" was all Will had managed to say, and "But--" was all Beth got out before the photographer pushed them together, wrapping Will's arm around her shoulder. His hand was on the bare skin of her arm and the whole length of her body was warm where their sides touched.
"Great. Smile!" the photographer said, and with a click and a flash so bright Beth was momentarily blinded, their picture was taken. She wasn't sure if she'd managed to smile or not. "This'll be up on the website tomorrow if you want to see it. Here's a card with the link. Thanks guys." He handed the card to Will and then briskly walked away to harass a small group of women.
Beth tried to blink away the after-images, but the big black dot remained in her vision. She realized she was blushing hotly as she stepped away from Will. She no longer cared why Will was in town; she only wanted to get away. She didn't bother making up an excuse this time, but instead simply said "Excuse me", trying to save what was left of her dignity in a smooth getaway.
Will was tempted to call after her, but instead he simply looked at the card in his hands. His cousin, Rich, walked over and ruffled his hair.
"Did that photographer come find you?" he asked with a wide grin, and Will punched him on the shoulder.
"You're a jerk, Rich." His cousin knew how much he hated things like that and always purposely sent the photographers or reporters after Will, and this time had been particularly bad timing. He probably wouldn't get another chance to talk to Beth. But he couldn't help laughing as Rich grimaced and rubbed his shoulder.
"Come on, Will. You shouldn't be mad. That was her, wasn't it?"
Will looked out over the heads of the people in the crowd until he spotted Beth's curly hair. She was talking with Carla, laughing. He looked down at the crisp card in his hand again. "Yeah, that's her."
Beth's peace of mind was shattered. She couldn't help watching Will from the corner of her eye for the rest of the evening. He didn't do much more than wander around the gallery talking with another tall young man with light brown hair. At least he'd gotten the message; he didn't try to talk to her again.
Beth was thankful. She couldn't imagine having to avoid both him and his aunt. The gallery only had so many places to hide. She felt childish and embarrassed, but she couldn't help it. She didn't want to be around Will.
The memory of the photo still mortified her every time she thought of it. Mostly because thrown in with all the other emotions of embarrassment and awkwardness was the attraction she always seemed to feel when she saw him.
This attraction was always violently suppressed, but that didn't change the fact that, as much as she disliked him, it was there. She'd felt it in the brief amount of time that his arm was around her shoulder, and that was partly why she'd run away so quickly. She simply didn't know what else to do. Will was a giant jumble of confusion in her head that she wouldn't even consider trying to unravel.
Beth was happy to leave the gallery with Carla. She felt that her perfect night had been ruined, and it was all Will's fault. She didn't fare much better at the apartment the next day, as she was afraid to wander around the complex; she didn't know if Will was staying with his aunt or not, but she didn't want to risk running into him.
"This is crazy," she finally said to herself, and she got ready to make a surprise visit to Carla at work. She wasn't going to let the idea of Will keep her from having fun.
"I can't believe they pay you to do this," Beth muttered, and Carla laughed. They were sitting on chairs behind the reception desk, and they'd done nothing but chat for an hour.
"Hey, it's a lot of work. You're just here on a slow day. Usually the phone rings off the hook." Almost on cue, the phone began ringing shrilly, and Carla gave Beth a smug look before answering.
Beth took the opportunity to walk over to her favorite painting in the collection, the one with the chaotic color swirls. To her surprise, there was a small blue dot posted next to the info card, a sure sign that it had sold the evening before. She felt a little disappointed, but hoped that whoever had purchased it appreciated it as much as she did.
Carla was off the phone again. "I get off work in ten minutes. What did you want to do? Hopefully no one else comes in. Do you want to go get sushi? I've suddenly got a craving for it."
Beth agreed, but unfortunately a customer came in just before Carla began to close up the gallery. Beth blinked as Catherine Bourgh waltzed in through the doors.
"Sorry I'm late. Traffic was horrendous." She paused. "Is my painting ready?"
"Yes, of course. I'll page David to come package it for you," Carla said in a rush, reaching for the phone.
As Catherine walked over to her, Beth finally realized that the painting they were speaking of was, in fact, her painting, or what she had come to consider as her painting. "It's a beautiful piece," Beth said, as Catherine stood next to her, viewing the artwork.
"I don't see anything really remarkable about it, but my nephew was raving about it last night. Apparently he shares your sentiments. I thought I might as well buy it as not. He'll enjoy it in any case."
Beth shut her gaping mouth and tried in vain to think of a response. To think, her painting had been purchased by someone who didn't give a damn one way or another. She ignored what it implicated about the similarity of her taste in art to Will's.
Carla came to oversee the work as several men in blue overalls packaged the painting and took it out to the delivery van.
"I assume you have plans for the evening," Catherine said by way of inquiry.
"Not anything definite—" Carla began, and Catherine cut in.
"You should come to dinner then. I'm meeting my nephews just down the street. No, I insist," Catherine said as Beth and Carla attempted to object.
Beth felt as though her voice had dropped into the pit of her stomach, and she struggled to find words but Carla shrugged good-naturedly. "Okay. Sure. I just have to finish closing, so we'll meet you there."
Beth inwardly groaned, but waited until Catherine had left before she started griping.
"Why did you say yes? This is going to be so awful." She bit her lip in consternation.
"What? It's a free meal at I'm sure what's going to be an insanely expensive restaurant. I don't understand the problem."
Beth groaned loudly, and Carla gave her a funny look. "What is wrong? Is there something I'm missing here?"
Beth colored slightly under Carla's searching look, but she shook her head. She couldn't explain to herself why she found the idea of dinner so terrible, and so she certainly couldn't explain it to Carla. "There are just going to be a lot of awkward silences. I don't even know Catherine Bourgh."
Carla scoffed. "Please. She'll talk so much that there won't be time for awkwardness. Plus you and Will know each other, right? Talk to him."
Beth was glad that Carla was busy locking up the door to the shop so she didn't catch the face Beth had made. Still, she read something in Beth's silence. "You're nervous, aren't you? Beth, I never would have expected it from you. Just picture them in their underwear or something," she said, laughing.
"Somehow, I don't think the mental picture of Catherine in her underwear is going to help me," Beth said, scowling. 'Or anyone else in the room, for that matter.'
Carla laughed again, and linked arms with Beth. Beth sighed in resignation as they stepped out into the evening air.
It wasn't long before Beth was seated at the table across from Will. Catherine had breezed into the restaurant, rounded up her nephews, and in what seemed like seconds, the staff was falling over itself to get a new table ready for her and her guests. It was all arranged by the time Beth and Carla arrived.
Beth had tried to get a seat next to Carla and Catherine, but the other young man in the party had pulled a chair out for her, and so she'd ended up directly where she didn't want to be. She soon found out that he was Richard Fitzwilliam, Will's cousin, although after spending five minutes with him, Beth found that hard to believe.
He was tall like Will, but that was where the familial resemblance ended. Rich was gregarious and open, but she could tell he had a mischievous streak too. Before even their drinks had arrived, Beth was bombarded with tales of all the pranks Rich had pulled on Will during this trip alone; she liked him immediately and was no longer upset at agreeing to come to the dinner.
Rich asked her where she was staying, and when she gave Carla's address, he grinned.
"You're just a flight of stairs away. We're both staying with Aunt Catherine," Rich said, nodding at Will. "We'll have to visit you sometime."
She was especially drawn to Rich's laugh. He had a contagious, mirthful chuckle. She suspected Will had a very similar one, but he hardly ever used it, as opposed to Rich who always seemed to be laughing. She heard Rich laugh more in 15 minutes than she'd ever heard Will in their entire acquaintance. Rich was laughing now as he recounted a story to her and Carla.
Will looked down at his plate, trying to hide a smirk. He'd heard Rich's story before, and he knew exactly where it was going. He sneaked a discreet look at Beth. She was totally engrossed, eyes alight with mirth. He'd never seen her be so carefree before. She certainly never laughed like that around Jane or Charles.
Having forgotten his food, Rich, with hand motions and all, was intently finishing his story.
"There he is staring at this grease fire that's getting bigger and bigger on the stove, and you know he's got no idea what to do about it, and taking the pan off the fire seems like a pretty good idea. But the handle of the pan is metal and burns his hand to a crisp, so he ends up throwing it across the room. The poor guy; it lands on a brand new rug, starts a new fire, and burns a giant hole in it. It smelled so awful in that room for days after. Why are you shaking your head like that Will? Huh?" Rich finished while everyone else laughed. Will had been shaking his head with a sideways grin on his face.
"You failed to mention that A: the 'guy' in the story was you, and B: it was my rug that I'd just bought to hide the other stain on the floor that you made when you spilled all that paint." Carla and Beth burst into fresh laughter, and Rich smiled sheepishly.
"Did you have to go and ruin my reputation, Fitz? You could have waited at least until after dinner."
This statement caused Beth to be confused about three things: Why Rich had called Will 'Fitz', why Will was suddenly looking like someone had just told his dirtiest secret to the whole room, and why Rich looked happily as if he'd just gotten his revenge.
"Fitz?" Beth offered up. She'd never heard anyone use it before.
Will was scowling deeply now, looking like he wanted to severely hurt Rich.
"If looks could maim, coz. It seems that Will," he said, now talking to Beth. "Has neglected to tell you that his first name is not William, oh no, no. It's Fitzwilliam. Fitzwilliam Gregory Darcy. Quite the title, I'd say," Rich said, grinning. Will looked highly embarrassed.
"Isn't your last name Fitzwilliam?" she asked Rich, and he nodded. "Your last name is his first name?"
"Actually, it's my mother's maiden name; she named me after herself, I guess," Will said, talking directly to Beth for the first time that night. She smiled to herself as the idea sunk in.
"I like that. Sons are always named after their fathers. It's nice to hear it be the other way around for once."
"I feel sorry for your husband; he's going to have to put up with a son named Bennet. At least my last name makes sense to use," Carla said, teasing Beth.
"I won't name my son Bennet. Although, it would make a good middle name…it would!" she protested, as Carla gave her a disbelieving look.
Will wasn't scowling any more. He had on a happy smile. Beth found herself smiling back without thinking. She could never resist a happy smile on anyone. She looked back down at her food quickly. Beth found it very disconcerting that every time she looked up Will's eyes were on her. Granted, when sitting across from someone there are only so many directions to look, but still, it was making her feel flustered.
Catherine had been engrossed in a phone conversation, but now she was intent on the table once more. "Will," she called out shrilly. Beth had to bite down to keep from laughing at the expression that had come over his face. "How is your sister? When she visited me last I was shocked to hear that she didn't practice every day. She'll never succeed at Julliard going on like that. Of course, I could buy her way into any other college, but that gets so tiring after a while. You know—."
"She's been practicing," Will said, cutting her off. He wanted to prevent the speech that he knew was bound to follow.
"What instrument does she play?" Beth asked, curious despite herself. She loved music.
"Cello."
She waited a while, thinking he was going to elaborate, but he didn't. "I see." She stopped. It was like trying to talk to a brick wall. However nice he was acting, apparently some things didn't change.
Rich leaned over slightly to talk to her. "Beth, I'm very interested to hear what you have to say on Will. I know you met him before tonight. You got any dirt on him? He always stays so squeaky clean. I can never figure out how he does it."
Will's eyes had gone big, and Beth had the suspicion that he would have kicked Rich under the table if he could have. She laughed. "I have a story I think you'll enjoy then." She shot a sideways glance at Will, who was looking sheepish and as though he knew what was coming.
"I met Will at a Jazz festival. Before we had even been introduced he was insulting me to my face. He stood on his own almost the whole night and refused to talk with anyone. You can't imagine how the girls in town were talking. I'm surprised he didn't get lynched."
Rich laughed. "That sounds like him all right, always the life of the party. But Will, really? Insulting a beautiful lady like that? Honestly, I wonder about you."
"Wait a second. I apologized to Beth for what I said. I didn't mean it. What was I supposed to do? I hadn't been introduced to anyone. I'm not like you, Rich. I don't make instant friends with people," he finished.
"You are so right, Will. No one ever gets introduced at festivals. What an absurd idea," Beth said, sarcastically.
He sighed, but consented. "Okay, so maybe I should have asked to be introduced, but I hate asking people to do that for me. It seems so rude."
"That's not why," Rich said smiling to Beth. "He's just too lazy to ask."
Catherine interrupted their conversation. "Beth, why didn't you tell us earlier? Carla was just telling me how you play the piano. I'm sure you noticed the baby grand in the other room. We've got one just like it at the apartment. The local history museum is always asking if I'll donate it, but I couldn't bear to. It's been in the family for generations. It's not like I don't donate enough money anyway..."
It seemed Catherine had brought up Beth's playing just to show off the piano, but she wished Catherine hadn't said anything. She usually stayed quiet about her years of piano.
Beth had noticed the piano as soon as they'd walked in. It was beautiful, with shiny dark cherry wood, and keys that looked like and probably were real ivory. They didn't make pianos like it anywhere any more. Her fingers had itched to play it the moment she'd seen it, but she hadn't played in years, and starting up again in front of an entire restaurant didn't seem like the greatest idea.
"You play?" Rich asked. He and Will both looked surprised.
"I used to," Beth said, trying to change the subject. Carla however joined in from the other end of the table.
"Beth, you were so good. I couldn't believe when you gave it up. You should get back into it."
Beth shrugged and said something noncommittal, feeling uncomfortable.
"I have to ask why," Rich said, smiling. "Everyone thinks you were great. Why'd you give it up?"
Beth sighed and shrugged. "I grew out of it, I guess. I hated going to lessons. And I could never do anything with it in life. I knew I wasn't going to be a performer; I hate playing in front of people." She stabbed a piece of carrot on her plate agitatedly.
That was the real reason why she'd stopped. When she was alone, just her and the piano, she was great. She could play anything.
But as soon as she was playing in front of someone she got unbelievably nervous. Her hands sweated, her heart beat in her throat, and she invariably messed up. Her fingers became clumsy and thick, tripping over the keys and the melodies that had been so simple earlier.
Will caught her eye, smiling sardonically. "I guess neither of us does very well in front of strangers."
She blinked, surprised. That he had understood something about her without her telling him was alarming. He'd read her so easily, and she had misunderstood him completely. She couldn't believe she had something in common with him, and that all of his confusing behavior could so easily be explained by being nervous in front of strangers. Was that what it all came down to?
She blinked again and really looked at him for the first time in a long time. She tried to think of all her past encounters with him. She could remember how tense his shoulders had been as they'd walked into Carla's party earlier in the summer, how he'd spent half the night outside at the Bingley's barbeque to avoid being the center of attention.
"Will!" Catherine's voice pierced through the room again, and Beth jumped. She blushed slightly and looked away as she realized that the whole time she'd been looking at him, he'd been returning her gaze.
"I can't hear a word you're saying," Catherine continued.
Still feeling flustered, Beth turned to Rich and was glad she no longer had to focus on Will.
After dinner was finished, they returned to the lobby of the restaurant. Catherine once again started a heated conversation with someone on her cell phone, Carla excused herself to use the restroom, and Rich, after saying goodbye to Beth, went outside to the pull the car around for his aunt, which left Will and Beth alone together to wait. The lobby was loud with noises from the restaurant, and Beth had to stand close to Will to be able to be heard, but she had to ask him some questions.
"You and Charles left in a hurry this summer." Beth hadn't wanted to bring the subject up, but she couldn't resist. Some part of her still wanted answers for Jane, and she thought this might be her last chance to get them.
Will nodded, looking surprised by the subject, and he made a noncommittal response, but that was all Beth could get from him.
A silence passed between them again, and she did some quick thinking. "Do you think Charles will ever come back?" she tried to ask nonchalantly.
"No. I don't think so." He looked like he didn't want to talk about it any more, but Beth had to know.
She pressed on. "So he's going to buy an apartment in New York? Or at his school?"
"I'm sure he will when he gets a chance."
She thought he might say more, but he didn't. He looked uncomfortable. "That's good. For him, I mean. It must be nice to be completely independ—. " Her sentence faded off as Carla came back from the bathroom. She looked surprised to find Beth engaged in conversation with Will and even more surprised at how close they were standing.
"Are you coming with me?" she asked Beth, and Beth gave her a look of astonishment.
"Of course. What else would I be doing? Bye Will," she said simply, and he nodded. They both said a quiet goodbye to Catherine before leaving the restaurant to walk back to Carla's car, which was parked in the gallery parking lot.
"I thought we didn't like him," Carla said once the doors closed behind them.
"We don't."
"Right. So we talk like that with people we don't like."
"Talk like what? I hate it when you use the royal 'we', Carla," Beth said, avoiding the issue. She hadn't thought there was anything off about her conversation with Will.
Carla scoffed. "Whatever. You like him," she offered up in a singsong voice.
"I do not…" Beth protested lightly.
And it was true; she didn't like him. But she found that she couldn't quite hate him anymore either.
