Page 73 of Beyond Her Manner
“It has the style of Artemisia Gentileschi, a seventeenth-century artist. There are several of her works whose whereabouts are unknown, presumed lost.”
Viola smiled at the name. “Is your name a coincidence or…”
“Yes, I’m named after her,” she replied with enthusiasm, only for her tone to become immediately serious again, “I’m going to text you the details right now.”
“Okay, thanks for your call, Arte, and thank Charlotte for me.”
“I will. Do take any others it was with. Who knows what else you might have? Please keep me posted.”
“Will do. Thanks, Arte,” Viola replied as she hung up, feeling slightly sick yet excited.
Her phone vibrated to alert her to Arte’s text. She ignored it, deciding to enjoy her evening and deal with it all in the morning. She would wait until she knew something concrete before mentioning it to Gillian. She certainly didn’t want to distract her from the evening’s event.
Making her way downstairs, the riff that popped into her head the night of their dinner came to mind again. Humming it aloud, she found the notes flowed effortlessly, and even lyrics came to mind. She paused by the grand piano in the great hall. The polished surface gleamed under the soft lighting, beckoning her to play.
As she ran her fingers over the keys, the piano’s rich tones filled the hall, blending with her voice in a harmonious duet. Lost in the moment, Viola forgot everything around her as each note seemed to rise from the depths of her soul. It wasn’t until she heard a soft, appreciative hum that she noticed Gillian standing beside her.
“I did knock,” Gillian said softly. “It’s a beautiful song,” she added, her voice filled with admiration.
Viola’s smile wavered, feeling both proud and a little vulnerable. “It’s new. It came to me a few weeks ago, the first in a long time. Every day, I keep my vocal cords in good shape using other people’s work, but there’s nothing quite like working them on your own songs.”
Gillian stepped closer, her eyes fixed on Viola with an intensity that made her heart race. “You have an incredible gift, Viola. Don’t let it go silent.”
The sincerity in Gillian’s words struck a chord deep inside. She nodded. “I won’t.” Viola stood, her eyes tracing the elegant outline of Gillian’s figure, which was accentuated by her silky, strapless black dress. The low cut at the front didn’t escape her notice either. “You look incredible.”
“Thank you. You look…” Gillian’s usually hardened expression softened, melted away even, as she struggled to find her words. “…exquisite. As always,” she remarked with a warm smile.
Viola’s heart felt like it stopped beating. Her lips parted, drawing in a deep breath that filled her lungs and rebooted her brain. “Thank you.”
“I thought you might go for a tuxedo.”
“I considered it, briefly.” Viola grinned. “It’s difficult to get me out of a dress.”
Gillian lifted an eyebrow as the corners of her mouth twitched. “Is it now?”
The flirtatiousness in her voice encouraged Viola’s response. “I guess it depends on who’s trying,” she said, her own voice low and teasing. The pinking in Gillian’s cheeks discouraged her from going any further. She didn’t wish to make her uncomfortable.“You’re early. That’s not like you,” she added, only to be met with a sly grin.
“I am not a guest, so technically I cannot be early. Anyway, I thought it was best, in case others put in an early appearance. I didn’t want to abandon you, and I thought the band would need cajoling from their van.” Gillian turned at a noise from the porch. “And here they are.”
Five men dressed in tuxedos filed in and went to the far corner of the hall, where their instruments were set up. Mrs Johnson appeared from the kitchen carrying two buckets with champagne bottles nestled within. Two waiters carrying trays of fluted glasses followed behind.
Checking her watch, Gillian reached for a set of nearby light switches. With a few clicks, the chandeliers dimmed, and the soft wall lights created a warm and inviting atmosphere.
“I hope people come,” Viola whispered, her nervousness rising again.
“Of course they will,” Gillian replied with unwavering confidence. “Don’t underestimate the pull of the main attraction.”
Viola raised a curious eyebrow. “And what exactly would that be?”
Gillian leaned in, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You, Viola. You.”
Viola’s arms tingled with goosebumps as a shiver ran down her spine — a mix of nerves at her guests’ expectations and the thrill of Gillian’s playfulness. She tried to mask her reaction until the warmth in her cheeks betrayed her. “I’m not sure I’m ready to be the star of the show,” she admitted.
“Be yourself. That’s more than enough.”
Viola felt a wave of reassurance wash over her, though the flutter in her chest remained. “You make it sound so easy,” she murmured, half to herself.
“Remember who you are, how hard you’ve worked, everything you’ve achieved,” Gillian replied, her toneencouraging yet firm. “Trust me, Viola, you deserve all the attention. They’re here for you. And I am too.”
