The Soprano Ch. 08

Sebastien had backed her into the wall of the alcove now and was nipping savagely at her neck when they suddenly became aware they weren't alone. The tinny sound of rock music piped through headphones was just discernible, which meant that whoever was there was either going deaf or had incredibly cheap headphones. Sebastien flicked up his eyes with such frustration that Claire thought he must have looked like a hungry vampire interrupted with his victim, the way his teeth were still sunk into her neck.

He bit down harder and she whimpered. Sebastien actually growled low in his throat and grabbed her again, pulling her farther to the back where they could no longer be discovered by anyone skulking around the stage -- as unlikely as that was.

"Of all days..." he was muttering in French. Claire tried to suppress a smile, but didn't quite succeed. "Think it is funny, do you?" he asked, seeing her in the dim light of the single window they passed. She looked at him with wide eyes and shook her head, but he just snarled in her direction. He stalked off into the far corner and pushed her into the wall, unzipping his pants and reaching for the hem of her skirt. Claire pulled away, giving her usual token protest.

"Give me what I want without complaint or I shall drag you over to the window...or perhaps invite whoever is out on stage to watch." She knew it was an empty threat, but on the other hand...She turned back to him, flattening her back to the wall and looking up at him meekly.

"Much better," he murmured, lifting her skirt and smiling with appreciation at the sight of her pink lace panties. These he gave a little pat, making her squirm, before yanking them down to the floor. He lifted her hips and thrust into her, drawing a soft cry from her lips before she could stop herself. She wrapped her legs around his waist as his hand clamped down firmly on her mouth.

Leaning into her until their upper bodies were pressed together, he began pounding into her mercilessly. The eye contact was intense and incredible, though it made Claire suddenly shy. Her cheeks pinked as her body vaulted up to orgasm between Sebastien and the wall. Her feet flexed from the sensations and her body twitched as much as it could. Sebastien groaned at the feeling of her pulsating around him, and let himself go, spilling into her as he held his breath.

They were both winded and weak-kneed when he let her down to the floor. Claire held out her hand for her panties, but Sebastien just smiled and stuck them in his pocket.

"Come on, I need those!" she protested.

"You can manage without them," he said.

"I can not! You should understand."

"I have no idea what you might mean."

"Fine, then we're not doing this again," she grumbled.

"Sex as a weapon, mon abeille? I had thought better of you than that."

"Yeah, well, that goes double for you, withholding clothing from a woman in need."

Sebastien smiled and handed them over. Claire smiled back, but it didn't reach her heart. Inside, she knew there was something very wrong, but she couldn't know what.

-----

The restaurant was a bit darker than Claire had expected for so early in the evening, though the candles flickering away on the tables provided a bit of warmth. She sipped her champagne cocktail and waited. Before long she saw the handsome blonde moving through the crowd toward her, and he sat across from her with a glass of beer he'd brought from the bar.

"I suppose you should be getting on to rehearsal soon," he said.

"I have a little while," she replied with a shrug. "Sebastien called another closed rehearsal session before our rehearsal starts. I don't understand what's going on -- seems like almost everyone is there except for me. Do you know what's going on?"

"Even if I did, you know I could not say." He shook his head, looking irritated.

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just that...I guess I feel like he must be keeping something from me, and I'm not sure what to do about it. He's acting funny."

"I do not know what to tell you."

"I just thought maybe you'd give me a little hint." René frowned, wishing he could at least promise that Sebastien was keeping nothing from her that would hurt her. But the truth was very different, and in fact Sebastien had not even mentioned to him what the closed rehearsals were for. It would have irked him, but he had told Sebastien he was tired of keeping secrets.

"Whatever are you going to do with yourself when he is away next week?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"I am sure that you can."

Claire had no sooner left the café than her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and saw that it was Sebastien's younger sister Justine, with whom she had struck up a friendship over the past few months.

"Justine, hello!"

"Good day, Clarabelle. Tell me, when are you coming back for a visit?"

"Our season ends next month, so hopefully soon."

"Good, yes. You can come by yourself, no?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Basi is so serious! We should have some fun. Ah well, bring the old stick in the mud and he can come play uncle while Sarah comes out with us."

"He's really good with the kids, isn't he?"

"What is this I hear? Are you thinking of family things?"

"Hardly. I'm too young to be starting a family."

"Not so very young," Justine said thoughtfully. "But what about marriage? Surely you have thought about that."

"Once or twice. It's only natural," Claire replied slowly. Friends or not, perhaps Justine didn't need to know just how often her thoughts strayed that way.

"Of course. I think he's going to ask you."

"What?! Did he say something to you?"

"Certainly not! After all the teasing we give him, I believe we will be lucky to get invited to his wedding at all. I just have a feeling."

"I don't know. Things seem pretty smooth as is. I don't know if either of us wants to, you know, rock the boat."

"Claire, are you saying you would not marry my brother if he asked?" Justine didn't sound affronted, just curious. Claire was silent for a long moment, pausing to lean up against a tree trunk as she thought about it.

"I...no, I'm not saying that," she said at last. "I think...no, I know. I would marry him if he asked."

"Ah, I knew you would say so! I am telling you, he will definitely ask you before the end of the year. Sarah says so, too. We are sisters, so we know these things," she said with a laugh.

"I really don't know. He hasn't even hinted..." He had been acting strangely, but Claire didn't want to mention it to Justine. No need to worry -- or excite -- her unnecessarily.

"Of course not, Clarabelle. He always has held everything close to the chest. But believe me, we all agree he has not been this happy for a long time. We only tease him because we do not want him to let go of the good thing he has."

"I'm not going anywhere. Even if he never asks me to marry him, Justine. I love him."

"That is so sweet! Well, Clarabelle, please do give me a call when you decide to come. I will pick you up at the airport and I can give my darling brother a good tease on the way home!"

-----

"I must go up and do some work before rehearsal," Sebastien said, glancing down at Claire, who was curled up on the parlor sofa. "Do you mind staying down here until I finish?"

"Fine," she replied. "I should spend a little more time going over my score, anyway." Sebastien nodded, giving her a peck on the cheek, and headed upstairs. Claire watched him go, then settled down at the piano bench. She flipped through her score, playing short sequences on the piano and humming along.

A soft ringing sound nearby interrupted her momentarily, but she tried to ignore it. It was Sebastien's phone, and she knew he wasn't going to answer it while he was upstairs working. After another few rings Claire gave up trying to ignore it, instead waiting for the answering machine to click on so whoever was calling could leave their message and then go away. She heard Sebastien's terse message, the beep of the machine, and then a brief silence before a man's voice begun speaking.

"Maestro Boulet, this is Leonard calling to touch base about next week. As you know, it will give you a much better opportunity to see how you work with our orchestra than your brief visit earlier this year. Because each candidate will be here for such a short period of time, the schedule will be quite intensive. I will send a car to the airport for you, and a copy of the schedule should already be in your inbox. See you next week."

The man's voice stopped, along with Claire's heart. She felt weak all over. Did this mean what it sounded like? Well, of course. What else could it mean? Sebastien was hoping to become the conductor of another symphony. It explained a lot. But...he'd never mentioned...

A door shut upstairs and Sebastien's footsteps drew closer. He was wearing only black slacks, errant beads of water sliding down his pale chest as he towel-dried his hair. Apparently he had also showered while he was upstairs. Even upset as she was, her eyes slid over his exposed skin hungrily. Sebastien's brows furrowed as he drew nearer to her.

"Mon abeille, is anything the matter?" Claire stood wordlessly, took a few steps over to his answering machine, and hit play. She didn't want to, but she couldn't help watching his face as he listened to the message. When it was over, he watched her with an anxious expression, paler than usual.

"I would like to say it is not what it sounds like..." he began softly.

"But it is," she interrupted. She felt numb.

"I am afraid so."

"Is this...is this about Julia?" Sebastien stepped forward to touch her reassuringly, but she pulled away from him. His face fell and he dropped his hand.

"I swear it is not. I applied for the position at the suggestion of a colleague, and I did not find out that Julia was on the board until the exploratory gathering. She is not even on the hiring committee."

"I believe you, although I don't know why I should. You lied to me. Why would you do that?"

"I did not suppose I would be offered the position, was not even sure I would take it if it was offered to me. Better, I thought, not to worry you for no reason."

"If what you're saying is true, it doesn't sound like there would have been much for me to worry about." She sounded eerily calm.

"I...I suppose that is true. Are you terribly upset with me?"

"I'm furious, and heartbroken...and I don't know how to trust you anymore. You're too good a liar. You must have been going on like this for weeks." She shook her head.

"But you are still here..." She looked down. It was true. Every time they'd had a big problem in the past, she'd run away until she could deal with it.

"I don't know...I guess I'm done running from you. I've done some stupid things before. Yelling, crying, running away, those things don't solve the problem. Maybe I just want to talk."

"We have some time before we leave for rehearsal. Would you like to sit down and discuss it now?" He sounded very careful, as if the wrong word would shatter her into a million pieces. Maybe it would.

"Sure. Okay." She sat slowly, and Sebastien sat opposite her. "Tell me why you applied for the position."

"An old acquaintance asked to meet with me, and he mentioned that my name had come up as a possible fit for the upcoming vacancy. It is an excellent opportunity. Any conductor would agree."

"Then why do you say you might not want it?"

"I could not possibly bring you. I thought..."

"You would, what, give it up because of that? If I wanted to give up this job and follow you, I would. Or we would learn how to be apart. I would never...could never ask you to sacrifice an opportunity like this for our relationship. Much as it would hurt, I think it hurts more that you think so little of me that you would have to lie to me like this."

"I do not...that is not how I meant it. I think the world of you, and I enjoy so much what we do here, together. It would take a lot for me to give that up, and I believed, foolishly, that it would be easier to wait until I had been offered the position -- or not -- to tell you. I realized weeks ago that I should have told you, but by then...I can only hope that you will forgive me."

"I don't know. I was wrong, I don't think I can deal with this right now. We...we have rehearsal. Let's go."

-----

Things were breaking down. He couldn't quite understand how it had happened, though he was quite sure that it had been mostly his fault. No...all his fault. Claire had been so wonderful, and he knew she was so hurt by the sudden revelation of his secret. Well, he had always intended to tell her eventually. How could it have gotten away from him so terribly? Yes, he knew she was hurt. Sebastien felt that she had not forgiven him -- perhaps could not -- and he couldn't blame her.

Still, he thought he might have felt better if she had screamed at him, cried stormily, slammed doors. The soft, quiet acceptance; the way she moved disconnectedly through space unnerved and saddened him. He could not help remembering how she had looked the afternoon she found out. She had been so pale, even trembling as she faced him in his apartment.

He had faith that things would eventually go back to normal, but right now he was being so careful around her, it was hard to see it. Again he felt that she was, in some small ways, pulling away from him, and he was at a more profound loss than ever about what to do.

Perhaps the time apart would do them good. He had finally finished packing his things for his audition trip, and Claire had agree to ride with him to the airport to say goodbye. The atmosphere was strained between them in the back seat of his car, but at last he spoke.

"I suppose it will be nice to have a break while the orchestra rehearses for the instrumental set being performed when I return."

"Oh, I guess I didn't tell you yet. Aaron asked me to perform with his choir this weekend, so I'll be rather busy with rehearsals myself."

"I see."

"That's all right, isn't it? My contract says--"

"Of course, it is no problem." He shifted, looking uncomfortable. It was strange, but he was feeling sort of...sort of...

"You're not...jealous, are you?"

"It may seem odd to you," he said softly, "but I suppose I am, in a way. The thought of you singing for another man, well...watching you sing for me has become rather like...like..."

"Like..." she prompted, but he shrugged uncomfortably and she blushed when she realized what he was thinking. "It's not like that with Aaron. I don't even call him Maestro."

"Yes, well." He waved that away, obviously wishing to change the subject. "More than...those feelings...I wish I were able to come. To be able to see you perform when I am not also working, it would be nice."

-----

Sebastien had hardly passed through security at the airport when he began to feel a strong sense of foreboding - about his trip or his relationship, he couldn't say. Making his way to the gate, he couldn't help but notice the throngs of people surrounding him. Harried parents running after their children, young college-types paired off and holding hands affectionately, and a strange woman with hair very similar to Claire's. She kept passing him, and he got more agitated each time he nearly mistook her for the woman he'd left behind.

At last he sat with a disgruntled sigh in a lightly padded seat by the window, watching the technicians loading planes with luggage. A plane took off gracefully in the background just as another touched down on another runway. He checked his watch. His plane wouldn't take off for another half hour. He had time to make a phone call. Pulling out his phone, he tapped in the sequence of buttons that placed a call. The phone rang three times before there was an answer, and he spoke before the startled person on the other end could even take a breath.

"Hello, it is I," he said briskly in French, to avoid being overheard.

"Having second thoughts?" asked René in a mildly censorious tone. Sebastien frowned, though he knew René could not see him do it.

"And third, and fourth, and so on. That is not why I am calling."

"Well, I am, as they say, on the edge of my seat to hear what it is," came the dry reply.

"It is about mon abeille. I wished to ask if you would...would see to her wellbeing while I am away. I am afraid she is far more upset than she is letting on, and I...I could not live with myself if..." He didn't know how to finish the sentence.

"Certainly I will look in on her from time to time, but she is a grown woman and I do not think-"

"Whatever she wants, if it is anything you can give her, I want you to give it to her. Even adults sometimes need more care than they realize, and I want you to be there to give it to her."

"Sebastien," René began with a tired sigh, "are we getting to the point where you are giving me orders as well as Claire?"

"René, please!" Sebastien snapped in frustration. "Do not do this to me today. I fear I have destroyed my life as it is and I do not have the time or energy to argue with you."

"Then why do you not come home?"

"It is too late for that now," he answered darkly. "I must resign myself to the mercy of the fates. Besides, if it is as I fear and Claire no longer loves me..." He paused to collect himself, even the thought being more painful than he'd anticipated. "If that be so, then I may as well take the position, should they offer it to me. I should not want to remain here after that."

"I have known you my whole life, and still I do not understand your fatalistic attitudes."

"Still I wish to be prepared."

"You will never get away from it. It will follow you your whole life, and you know I speak the truth," René said, his mind reaching far, far into the past, to a boy and a girl, to a blooming love and a rushing river. He shook his head.

"Be that as it may...Promise me you will take care of her."

"Very well, I promise."

"Anything she wants, you will give it to her."

"Yes."

"Anything," Sebastien repeated, more emphatically. René was silent for a long moment, processing the implications of what Sebastien was asking.

"Mon ami, I do not think-"

"Please, do this for me. Or if you will not do it for me, do it for her. She may not need just a friend this week. She needs to feel safe and desired in the arms of a man who loves her. As it cannot be me - could not, even if I were here - it must be you." When René did not answer, Sebastien went on, "I know it cannot be lack of desire..."

"No," René finally said, reluctantly, "but it feels disloyal and I know it will feel so to her."

"Then tell her I suggested it, if you like. Command her in my name, if you like. But I think it will not be so complicated as you imagine. When I am with her, it is like...like...birds bursting into song, or the feeling of a sun-warmed breeze on a spring day." His analogies sounded ludicrously sentimental, he knew, but it was the truth. "But the problem is that our relationship must always be so...political. We are always dancing around how we feel, what we mean to each other, the politics of our sex and our relationship to each other, and so rarely do we get the freedom to simply...simply be. Certainly I have involved you in our little games, but I believe with you she may have the freedom to just be a woman-" He broke off, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Sebastien," René cut in kindly, "I think you underestimate your relationship and your lover. But if it pleases you, perhaps you should make a greater effort to simply be with her. Surely your sex is not always full of your games from start to finish."

"No, I suppose not," he replied, sounding unconvinced. "But still I think with me she misses the free and easy part of a relationship. With you, she may at least have that. I want her to have that, especially this week when she will be so untrusting of me. Promise me you will care for her."