Cassandra's Song. Carole Gift Page

air in his demeanor.

      As the orchestra began to play, Antonio Pagliarulo launched into an Italian aria with the richest, fullest, most enchanting tenor voice Cassie had ever heard. She sat mesmerized, dazzled, disarmed. No matter what anybody said about this man, he could hold an audience spellbound.

      During her two semesters of part-time teaching, Cassie had passed Antonio occasionally on the university campus, but hadn’t bothered to give him a second glance in spite of his swarthy good looks. For too many years she had disciplined her mind to concentrate only on her music, her career. Focusing on attractive men would only divert her from her lifelong goals. Besides, she had already been burned once and wasn’t about to risk a broken heart again. But now, tonight, she was seeing this talented, enigmatic man with new eyes. She liked what she saw…and was hopelessly enraptured by what she heard.

      It seemed only minutes had passed and already Antonio was singing his final number. When the audience gave him a standing ovation, Cassie was one of the first to stand. She applauded until her palms stung. Then, all too soon, it was time to leave.

      “There’s a reception for Mr. Pagliarulo in the faculty hall, if you’d like to go,” Gilbert told her as they made their way out of the crowded auditorium.

      “I’d love to,” she said without hesitation.

      A gentle breeze was rising off the ocean as Gilbert escorted Cassie across the darkened campus to the faculty hall. He held her elbow to keep her from falling, and to her relief was no longer talking about centrifugal force and cold fusion. In fact, he seemed as enthralled by Antonio Pagliarulo’s voice as she was. “I rarely go to programs like this,” he was saying, “but Tonio has been more than a colleague to me, he’s been rather like a confidant. So I promised him I would attend one of his concerts.”

      “You’re saying Antonio Pagliarulo is a good friend of yours?” Cassie asked, hardly hiding her surprise.

      Gilbert’s countenance grew pink. “I admit, Cassandra, I’m not a very social person, but yes, Tonio’s been a good friend to me.”

      “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that I’d heard Antonio was a loner, snobbish, reclusive.”

      “I suppose he is, to most people. But that’s not the man I know.”

      “I…I’d like to meet him.”

      “Then I’ll introduce you.”

      The faculty hall was brimming with people, most of them converging on Antonio. Cassie shook her head. There was no way to get close.

      “Don’t worry,” said Gilbert. “We’ll have some refreshments and wait for the crowd to thin out.” He led her over to a row of straight-back chairs lining one end of the hall. “Sit down and relax. I’ll get us something to eat.”

      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,”