“You invited me.”
“Of course.” Sylvie couldn’t help but smile.
“What? Did I do something wrong?” Ade asked.
“Not at all.” Sylvie went to touch her sleeve, then pulled her hand back. “I just love your ability to state the obvious in such a charming way. It’s very French, actually.”
“Huh.” Ade scuffed her shoe against the concrete. “So this is the place?”
“That’s right. Are you ready to go inside?”
Ade nodded, and they ventured in, Sylvie taking the lead.
Inside, Ade stalled at the front row, holding up a line of people behind them as she scanned the birch-paneled ceiling of the auditorium. “I like it in here. It’s beautiful.”
Sylvie gently touched her arm and coaxed her forward. “Me too. I guess the design is for the acoustics, but I just like the look of it, all clean lines and bare wood.” Sylvie took the end two seats of aback row, not wishing to be trapped between people.
Once they were seated, the lights dimmed around them, casting a brief shadow onto the plain white walls before the audience was immersed in darkness. The orchestra took their places on the spotlit stage and after a brief, humble introduction, the music commenced.
Ade stilled her bouncing knee, and a calm seemed to wash over her body. Braving a further look, Sylvie studied the cut of her white shirt, and the way it clung to her slim waist before disappearing into the v of her firm chest.
Turning back to the musicians, she tried to focus on the tune, her heart stuttering with nerves.
Sitting in repose and admiring the music, Ade demonstrated the maturity that set her apart from her younger students. She was no longer their peer. And yet Sylvie couldn’t quite place what kept Ade from beingherequal. Was it the age difference? Was it her senior position?
She considered the gender queerness that Ade presented to the world. Tonight, she sported a pair of vintage slacks, almost mid-century, with a tucked-in shirt that gathered around the slight curve of her breast but otherwise cut a masculine silhouette for the world to admire. For Sylvie to admire.
She stopped herself from spiraling beyond style tips. Tonight was about resetting their professional relationship and letting Ade know that Sylvie welcomed her to the team. She wasn’t the cold bitch who’d cut her dead in her own classroom on Monday.
Sylvie stole another glance. Ade’s eyes were closed. Was she asleep?
“I’m enjoying the music,” she whispered, as if feeling Sylvie’s stare.
Sylvie smirked and refocused on the stage. The billing had drawn a typical Friday night audience of the city’s intellectuals and their university pals. The front rows were completely full, and there were just a few seats here and there until the very back where Adeand Sylvie had two rows almost to themselves.
Sylvie often came to the recitals on Fridays to decompress after a long week of teaching or grading papers. The beat of the bass instruments and the harmonies of the strings transported her to a different place, away from the strain of campus life.
She was brought back into the room by the roll of the bass drum, indicating the score’s shift in gear and a heavier tone for the piece.
“What’s happening?” Ade asked.
Sylvie edged closer to speak gently into her ear. “This piece is about the fear of the unknown. I think the lower notes and bass instruments denote a trepidation of something looming in the future.”
Ade turned her attention back to the stage, her eyes wide with curiosity. She hunched ever so slightly forward, affording Sylvie a view of her profile. She looked beautifully handsome, transfixed in the glow of the illuminated stage. Her face flushed with the emotion of the music, as if every scrape of the cellist’s bow carved another tear in her heart.
As the melody came to its crescendo, Sylvie gripped the arms of her seat to avoid taking Ade’s hand. As the piece steadied, she met Ade’s smile, knowing she’d witnessed a first-time experience. “Have you ever heard something like that before?” Sylvie asked.
“Never. Not in real life. I mean, I’ve heard classical music. But not like that.” Ade lifted the cuff of her sleeve to show the goosebumps on her skin.
The urge to stroke them away almost overcame Sylvie. She sat further back in her seat, staring directly at the conductor in an attempt to focus on anything but the temptation to touch Ade.
At the end of the show, Sylvie accepted Ade’s offer of drinks and ventured outside to cool off. The evening sun had dropped further into the slumber of the sky as she took a table for two on the terrace.
On nights like these, she could almost forget this was herworkplace. The students had snaked back into the city to be tempted by its nightlife. She enjoyed the relative peace of the campus, the talent of its best musicians, the chatter of the city’s literati, and the grown-up company of a colleague.
As Ade set two glasses of red wine on the table, Sylvie adjusted her posture, opening herself up for more of the contented conversation that they’d enjoyed together so far.
“I’m glad I came tonight. Thanks for inviting me,” Ade said.
