"A what?"

"A party."

Cressida eyed Graham suspiciously.

"Katherine's having a party."

"Yes."

"And she wants us to be there."

"Yes."

"And our friends."

"Yes."

Cressida stopped walking so she look Graham in the eye.

"Please tell me how the conversation actually went," she demanded.

Graham laughed. "Sweetiecee, okay. She told me she was having a party, and since I lived there, would I attend. I said I didn't really feel like it, that I'd just stay in my room. Then she said she really wanted me to be there, and if it made me more comfortable, I could invite some of my friends as well. I said no thanks, I'd be more comfortable in my room. Then she said I could invite you, and your friends too. 'The more the merrier' were her exact words."

"Wouldn't you rather just come to my place for the evening? Spend the night?"

Graham shook his head. "No, I really thought this might be fun, you know? You could invite Josh and Andrea and whoever else you wanted to invite, and I could invite a few of my school friends, and we'd all have a really good time at a party with unlimited booze in a really swanky apartment."

"Unlimited booze? Like an open bar?" Cressida was starting to sound interested.

"No bartender, just a whole bunch of liquor sitting out. I've been to Katherine's parties before, she doesn't go all catered and stuff like her mother does. I think she likes to feel like she's an ordinary person, you know, just bags of chips sitting out with dip and all that? And she usually likes to keep it small, like twenty people."

"And you really want to go."

Graham nodded. "The prof is in Connecticut that day, so she won't be underfoot. It might be fun. What do you say?"

"I guess I say okay," Cressida replied reluctantly. "When is it?"

"Saturday."

"Okay, I'll rally the troops."

*

"Wow, this place is amazing," Andrea said as she entered.

Next to her, Josh could only nod, looking around.

"I know. Apparently they have a place just as nice in London," Cressida told her. "Family money or something, I don't think she affords all this on a professor's salary, no matter how exclusive the school is."

Most of Katherine's friends were already there, standing around in small groups, chatting. "So the drinks are over there, the food is on the counter in the kitchen, and I'll take your coats."

"Anyone else we know coming?" Josh asked. "Or are we it for the downtown contingency?"

"Well, I asked Daniel, Eli and Rosemary, and they all said they'd be here—" Cressida shrugged. "We'll see."

"So let's mingle, and I'll introduce you to the people whose names I know."

"Where's Graham?" Andrea asked while pouring herself a drink and adding mixer.

"He's still in the shower, he'll be out in a little while."

She led her friends over to a group. "Okay, let's see how I do," she said with a laugh. "Um, Mitchell, Harry, Liz and Rowan, right?"

"Well done," said Harry. He was a good-looking brunette with piercing blue eyes. "So you're friends of Cressida's from NYU?"

Andrea and Josh nodded. Andrea shot Josh a look when no one was looking, that said, "If he straight, he's mine, if he's gay, he's all yours."

Josh smiled back at her, then looked at Harry speculatively. "Hard to tell, let's wait a little."

Cressida looked at her friends and shook her head, knowing how their thoughts were going.

"You guys musical?" Mitchell asked.

"Not me," said Andrea. "I'll do karaoke if I'm drunk enough, but that's about it."

"I play a little guitar, but nothing like Graham," Josh said.

"Well, that's refreshing," Rowan said. "We all get so inbred around here, only rubbing shoulders with other music students. What are you guys studying?"

"I'm a journalism major, like Cress," Andrea said. "Josh over there is pre-law."

"Like I said, refreshing."

Just then Graham entered in a sweater and jeans, looking so good it almost hurt. Cressida tried to remember what she'd thought of his looks when she first met him, and found that she couldn't; she could only remember an impression of an ominous physique, long legs and lots of dark hair.

"Graham, there you are!" Katherine said, hurrying over to him. She linked an arm through his and drew him toward a group of people. She was gorgeous tonight, her spill of blond hair catching the lighting of the room just right, a low cut sweater revealing the curve of her cleavage. Her makeup was perfect and looked like a professional had applied it.

Other than a little mascara and lip balm, Cressida wasn't wearing any makeup and felt like the dowdy country cousin again.

"You need to stop," a voice beside her said.

Cressida turned to see Andrea, drink in hand, looking at her with an eyebrow arched.

"Stop what?"

"Stop comparing yourself to the English princess. For one thing, you look absolutely stunning tonight, and for another—"

"And for another?"

"And for another, Graham adores you. He's with you, not her."

Cressida sighed. "I know. But would the world be such a bad place if I had a little more boobage?"

Andrea laughed. "Come on, let's get another drink."

"Where's Josh?"

"He's talking to someone whose name I forget about the place of classical music in pop culture."

"Wow."

"I know."

They stood sipping their drinks for a moment, then Andrea said, "Now go and get your man, rescue him from her clutches."

Cressida laughed at her friend's words, but headed over to where Katherine was holding court.

"Cressida, how lovely to see you," Kathrine said warmly, though her warmth didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Cress!" Graham put an arm around her and kissed her soundly on the mouth. "You look beautiful."

Cressida didn't know what to say so she looked down, embarrassed. "You look mighty fine yourself," was what she finally came up with.

"Aren't you guys a darling couple?" a dark-haired girl named Marcie said. "You're, like total opposites, with Graham being so big and soccer player-y, and Cressida being so small and dainty, but you go together so well."

Katherine was just looking at them and listening to the conversation.

"How do you get along in the bedroom with the size difference?" Marcie asked interestedly.

"Marcie, please!" the guy next to her interjected. "Jesus, can't take you anywhere," he added, shaking his head.

Katherine finished her drink in one gulp and said, "They're not as opposite as you'd think, though."

"Oh? How so?"

Katherine shrugged. "Never mind, forget I said anything. Anyone want another drink?"

Graham was pleasantly conscious of his Cressida at his side, looking lovely in a purple minidress and strappy sandals. As usual, he felt better just knowing she was around.

As the evening went on and people drank more, things loosened up, and there was dancing. One of Cressida's NYU friends had brought some pot, and it started getting passed around as well, relaxing everyone even more.

Someone named James asked Cressida if she wanted to dance. She looked around, but Graham was in the kitchen with Josh.

"Sure, I love this song," she said, rising and holding out her hand to take his extended one.

So they danced, and Cressida was pleased to find that James was a very good dancer. "Are you a professional dancer?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I was a dance major for a while, though, before I switched to vocal performance."

"It shows."

He looked pleased. "Thanks."

The next song was slow. "Feel like going slow with me?" James asked with a grin.

"Yes, dancing with you is like dancing with Fred Astaire," Cressida declared.

She put one arm around his shoulder and he held her other hand between them.

"So you're all sewed up with Graham, I take it?" James asked, looking at her.

"I am," Cressida answered with a smile.

"No chance for me?"

"None whatsoever, unfortunately."

Suddenly Cressida found herself dancing with thin air, James gone from her arms.

"Get your hands off my girlfriend!" Graham had James on the ground, and was drawing back his arm to punch him.

"Graham, stop!" Cressida grabbed his arm and he caught her across the cheek with his closed fist. He would've sent her flying except for the fact that she was holding his arm.

Cressida let out a shriek of pain, though she didn't release his arm.

James cowered on the ground, for Graham looked like a man possessed, and he looked strong enough and angry enough to kill someone.

Graham released the front of James' shirt and turned immediately toward Cressida. "Oh my god, Cress, your poor sweet face, are you okay?"

The party had ground to a halt around them. Someone turned off the music. Katherine watched, horrified.

Cressida finally released Graham's arm as Josh approached her to assess the damage.

"I thought—I thought he was putting the moves on you! You guys were dancing so close—" Graham spluttered.

"First of all, that's no reason to hit anyone, not with what you need your hands for," Cressida interrupted, one fist on her hip, the other hand on her cheek. "Second, if you thought we were getting it on or getting too close or whatever, you get pissed at me for letting him, not him for doing it!"

A couple of James' friends stepped forward to help him up.

"I'm sorry," Graham said, contrition etched in his features. "How's your face?"

"It hurts like a motherfucker, you asshole, how do you think it feels?" Cressida asked, causing the assembled onlookers to laugh, breaking the tension.

"Let me get you some ice," Rowan said, stepping forward.

"Graham's the one who needs ice, for his hand," Cressida said. "Please, someone, before it starts to swell?"

Katherine wordlessly wrapped some crushed ice in a towel and held it to Graham's hand.

"How does it look?" Cressida was beside herself with worry. What if he couldn't play?

"It looks fine, now let us tend your cheek," Graham said sternly.

"No, not until you apologize to James," Cressida said stubbornly.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Graham muttered. He turned to James. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I misunderstood the situation. We good, man?"

James nodded as his friends led him away.

Graham turned back to Cressida. "Now, let me see your cheek?"

She removed the ice and showed him her face.

"You're going to have a mouse under your eye," he said regretfully. "Jesus, I'm so sorry, Cress." He tried to put his hands on her shoulders, but found that he couldn't because Katherine was still holding the ice to his right hand.

"Christ, Kath, let me go already!" He pulled his hand out of her grasp and reached for Cressida.

Around them, the party slowly came back to life. People began to turn away.

"Figures. Nothing like some louche trash to liven up a party," Cressida heard someone say.

"What did you say, Phillip?" Graham was now facing off with a tall blond boy, one who could equal him in height, if not breadth of shoulders.

"You heard me. Leave it to you and your girlfriend to cause a fistfight at Katherine's party. You can take the boy out of the gutter, but you can't take the gutter out of the boy, can you?" Phillip sneered. "Bruising up your own piece of ass in public, how typical."

Graham shook his head, taking a step closer to Phillip. "If I cared less about my hands and more about the garbage you're spouting, you'd have something to worry about," Graham muttered, getting right up in Phillip's face.

"Like the state of your hands matters for a technical gorilla like you. You have no understanding of the music, of true musicality. You can't, look at how you were raised. Everyone here thinks it's a joke that you're going to attempt the Rach 2 at the competition."

The people who'd started to relax were once agin looking on, horrified.

"Phillip, that's quite enough." Katherine's voice cut through the fight like a knife.

Cressida, who was standing next to Josh, was relieved.

"In fact, Graham, why don't you play something for us now?" Katherine continued. "I think a little musical interlude would do all of us some good."

"What?" Graham turned on her. "I'm in no mood to play anything right now."

Cressida put a hand on Graham's arm. "Graham, please, play something for us. I think it would calm everyone down, you know?" She looked distastefully at Phillip.

Maybe it would put that asshole in his place, too.

"You really want me to?"

Cressida nodded. "If your hand is up to it?"

Graham flexed his fingers. "My hand is fine, it takes more than your cheek to hurt me." He brushed his hand down her jaw. "If you want me to play, I will. What do you want to hear?"

"The Rachmaninov? That you're going to play for the competition?"

Graham looked at her. "It's not quite ready."

Cressida shook her head. "It doesn't matter to me."

"Okay, if that's what you want. Okay." He turned to Katherine. "Do you have the symphonic accompaniment?"

Katherine nodded. "But should you play that one?"

"It's what Cress wants."

By the time Katherine had gotten the accompaniment ready on the sound system, just about everyone at the party was assembled in the music room.

Graham sat down and adjusted the stool, then gave Katherine a nod. She started the accompaniment to cue in at the appropriate time, and the first, rich notes of the broken chords rolled out of the piano.

The music was urgent and immediate, the beautiful first movement of the Rach 2, and everyone was transfixed. Then on through the wistful second movement, with the hint of the minor key theme as an undercurrent throughout. Then back for the third movement to the original melody, only carried by the orchestra this time.

It was stunning and everyone, Phillip included, was transfixed.

Then, suddenly, Graham stopped. The recorded symphonic accompaniment rolled along without the piano, heedless of the soloist's distress.

He lifted his face to look at Cress, stricken.

Oh my god, he'd stopped.

He couldn't play.

Graham looked down at the keyboard as if hoping to find the answer there.

"Graham? What happened? Did you forget?" Katherine's voice was full of concern. She turned the accompaniment off.

The silence was deafening.