Page 80 of The Fiancée Farce
“It was nothing.” She squirmed.
“It was far from nothing,” Gemma argued. “I know it soundslike I’m joking with the wholeyou coming to my rescueline, but I don’t think anyone’s ever stuck up for me like that.” Gemma’s fingers rested on the notch of her breastbone. “Clearly you listened to everything I said in the library the other night. And then, what you said... it felt like you really believed in me. That I can do this. Run VDP. That I’m not going to be the failure everyone else expects me to be.” She lowered her hand and cleared her throat. “I don’t know if it was just a line—”
“It wasn’t,” Tansy said, reaching out, covering Gemma’s hand with hers. “I meant everything I said.”
“Well, thank you. I guess that makes seven.” Gemma smiled shyly at her. “Anyway, what were we talking about? That’s right. Musical instruments and your manual dexterity, which I’mveryinterested in.”
Tansy grinned. “How about you? Any musical instruments?”
“Me?” Gemma scoffed. “My grandmother, God rest her soul, thought with fingers like these, I was destined to play piano.” Gemma lifted her left hand, wiggling her fingers, the overhead light catching on the marquise-cut diamond on her ring finger, the engagement ring she’d bought for herself. Tansy fought against a shiver, remembering how those fingers had felt sliding against her skin. How they had felt inside her. “For three years I was forced into piano lessons with a teacher namedHildegardbecause my father had it in his head that I was going to be the next Van Cliburn. Mediocrity was unacceptable. Van Dalens, we are meant to be exceptional.”
Gemma snorted.
“After three years he let you quit?” Tansy didn’t know Victor van Dalen, but that hardly seemed like something he’d do.
“Not quite.” Gemma smiled impishly, swirling her wine. “It wasn’t so much that helet meas I filled the piano with belugacaviar I smuggled out of the kitchen in the dead of night. Suffice it to say, I made my point.”
Ew.“Oh my God. The smell—”
“Was horrendous.” Gemma wrinkled her nose. “In retrospect, I regret ruining such a beautiful instrument. It was a Steinway; cost a fortune. Makes me cringe thinking about it now, what a brat I was. But it was the only thing I could think to do to get anyone to listen to me.”
Gemma grabbed her wine and held it toward the light, casting a ruby glow across her face. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t matter if it’s strings, keys, or wind instruments, I can’t carry a tune in a bucket to save my life.”
“I’m sure you aren’tthatbad.”
“I can’t even clap on beat. Heaven forbid anybody asks me to sing.” Gemma laughed. “My grandfather—I told you he was odd, didn’t I? I say it with all the fondness in my heart, but the man wasstrange. Laughed at jokes that made no sense. Hell, just look at how he named me his successor.Me.” She brought the glass to her mouth and sipped. “Anyway, thanks to my grandfather, we had this tradition. Every Christmas, we each had to sing a song. I hated it, so one year I drank a little too much peppermint schnapps and did my very best rendition of Spinal Tap’s ‘Christmas with the Devil.’ After that, Grandpa gave me a permanent pass.”
Tansy choked on her water. “You didn’t.”
Gemma covered her face with her hands, shoulders shaking as she laughed. “I did. I even think Brooks recorded it. For posterity’s sake, he said. Blackmail material, more like.”
“Wait, did it have to be a Christmas song? Because right now I’m picturing your father and Sterling standing beside a piano performing their best rendition of ‘Haben Sie gehört das Deutsche band?’fromThe Producers.”
Gemma snickered. “Oh, if only. I’d kill to see something like that.”
Maybe it wasn’t exactly the same, but... “You know JibJab? That site where you can insert your loved ones’ faces into animated ecards? I bet there’s a gold mine of templates we could choose from.”
Gemma’s lips parted. “Tansy—wait, what’s your middle name?”
“Elizabeth.”
“Tansy Elizabeth Adams.” The way Gemma said her name sounded almost reverent. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a devious streak?”
Her face flushed. “You make it sound like a compliment.”
A rather unorthodox compliment, but a compliment all the same.
“Because I mean it as one.” Gemma smiled. “You know, I’m learning all sorts of new things about you, Tansy Elizabeth Adams. And I like each new fact more than I liked the last.”
Tansy was learning, too. She felt a little like a magpie, tucking away tidbits, hoarding details about Gemma, collecting them like precious gems. Hiding them away for safekeeping. “Tell me your middle name.”
“It’s Lise.”
“Gemma Lise van Dalen.” Tansy hummed, tasting the words like she would wine. “It’s beautiful.”
Gemma reached out, fingers ghosting over Tansy’s jaw, her chin, her touch featherlight as she brushed the pad of her thumb across Tansy’s mouth before dropping her hand back to her lap. “It’s better when you say it.”
Tansy swept her tongue along her bottom lip, pretending for a second that she could capture the taste of Gemma. “The uh—the JibJab could be our Christmas card this year.”
