The senior class material was the same as what she would have been taking at St. Xavier's, and she took careful notes on her new laptop during the hour-long course, enjoying the feel of being back in a classroom after the summer.
She glanced around and recognized the dark-haired girl, Angie, sitting about ten rows down. As if she had felt the weight of Victoria's glance, she turned around and stared back malevolently, her dark eyes piercing. Victoria refused to look away—she hadn't done anything wrong—and only the teacher rapping his books on the table signaling the end of class broke their eye contact, neither willing to back down.
Victoria shook her head and gathered her things, refusing to let some random girl ruin her day. She quickly checked her schedule. She had a break and then history, which was in another building. People chatted loudly as they exited the room, laughing and talking about their summer holidays. It felt nothing like St. Xavier's, the energy and excitement were infectious. She couldn't help smiling to herself as she walked toward the concert hall to finalize her assistant job before her next class. This time, she found the building easily.
"Five minutes," mouthed a young woman sitting at the outer desk while she wrapped up a phone call. Victoria waited in the small hall area and perused the posters of concerts and events lining the walls. She loved music. Going to Carnegie Hall every weekend with her parents in New York had been one of her favorite pastimes, and remained a fiercely cherished memory. As she walked, the lilting sounds of Beethoven came from a piano down the hall, its haunting melody flawless. Curious, Victoria motioned to the assistant that she'd be right back.
She pushed open the nearest door, noticing a lone, shadowy figure on the stage at one end sitting at a grand piano. His fingers flew over the keys with practiced ease. The music shifted from Beethoven to something that sounded like Chopin's Fantaisie-Impromptu piece with its impossibly fast finger-work that made her breathless, and then jerked yet again to a simpler refrain that sounded oddly familiar. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as the pianist's raw emotion flowed through the music, his keystrokes forceful and heated. As he gentled his movement and lowered the key, spacing out each note of the last few bars, Victoria recognized the music. It was Michael Nyman's score from The Piano, a piece of music that was as dark as it was sweet, and one that had always moved her. She closed her eyes.
The music faded into silence as the sounds of a stool scraping back filled the void and her eyes shot open. Christian Devereux was staring at her from across the dark room, his gaze impaling her to the wall. In the dim light, she knew he probably couldn't see who she was, but she guessed he knew that someone was there, and had been listening.
"You play very well," she said, then fled, the door swinging shut behind her.
In the hallway, Victoria pretended to stare at the floor as the door swung open, crashing on its hinges as Christian strode out. His brows were drawn together in a scowl and his lips were pressed into a thin, grim, white line. Annoyance emanated from every inch of him, yet even angry, he was as striking as she'd remembered. No doubt she was the cause of his anger, spying on him as she'd done. He looked furious ... and attractive in a way that shouldn't be attractive at all.
Her heart raced, jumping into her throat as his strange colorless eyes met hers for an instant, the beginnings of a smile on her mouth faltering and then disappearing altogether from the intensity of his flinty glare. His nostrils flared, his brow snapping together even more tightly, and he looked right through her as if she were not even there.
"Miss?" The assistant's voice was sharp as if it were the second or third time she'd asked, and Victoria turned distractedly. "Student identification card, please!"
"Um, yes sorry." She fumbled in her bag and handed over her ID.
"Fill these out." The girl thrust a pile of papers across the desk, which Victoria took mumbling her thanks.
Christian had gone without so much as a word, and his burning, ominous glare had left her shell-shocked. Swallowing the clogged knot from her throat, Victoria sighed and filled out the paperwork.
"Superb start," she said to herself, as she made her way out of the building and across the quad. She'd managed to somehow alienate two people in the space of three hours and it was only the first day. She couldn't begin to imagine what the rest of the day would bring.