# Anton: Chapter 6, Part II



## Huilunsoittaja (Apr 6, 2010)

At the far end of the room, by the entrance, a woman was standing with an older gentleman who looked like it may be her father. But it was her for certain. It was the very same face, smiling brightly.
Anton froze. Four other men were standing behind her, and escorted to a table where people were just leaving. One began moving his way to order drinks, so Anton stood aside and pretended not to notice or care. But he did care immensely.
"Who are those men? What do they want with her?" he was wondering, feeling himself flush.
The young woman had sat down, and the 4 men sat down with her, 2 at each side. They thus began talking cheerfully with each other, and the lady smiling all the while.
Almost involuntarily, Anton began walking forward toward the table about 30 paces away, staring her straight in the face.
The young woman wore on a casual outfit, a black dress. But her dark brown hair was smartly arranged, and her face was radiant. It had well-defined features, and her dark eyes were very beautiful.
"Look up, look up," he begged inside, "You know me, and I know you. Look up."
Perhaps sensing he was looking at her, she did. The smile left her face for a moment, and suddenly her whole composure changed. To Anton, it looked like she was holding her breath.
Anton stepped forward while all the men were talking with each other, locking her eyes on his. As he came to the table, the men finally looked up and saw him. But the woman spoke up first.
"Anton Stepanovich!"
"You remember my name," Anton smiled.
"Do I! How could I forget..."
The woman paused, and seemed to breath more deeply now, but acted quite nervous.
"Well," said a man to her left, "That made an easy introduction, but I'm still wondering how you know this man."
"I saw him last Friday night at another club. It was by chance I came there only, since my father had gone there to meet a friend on sudden business, and I had to stay with him since I couldn't go home alone. Now father's away again, no doubt talking again with someone on business. So much of that stuff," she frowned in disgust, but continued. "But then, there was a concert which he was completely unaware of, and we dropped in right at the moment when he," gesturing to Anton, "was playing a wonderful piece, what was it now..."
"My Suite for 2 pianos?"
"Yes, that was it. I had not heard something like that in a long time. Perhaps the last time I went to that Tchaikovsky ballet back in Berlin."
During this time, Anton had found a seat, and sat across from her. All the men watched him suspiciously, and he eyed them curiously as well. He noticed something was different about these men, perhaps how they were dressed, or their faces, or maybe both. It suddenly dawned on him: they're not Russian.
"May I ask your name, madam?"
"Oh! How silly of me to not introduce myself, my name is Katarina... hm what do they say here,_ Karlovna_ Gutheil. Yes, I find it proper to say that Piotr!" she laughed and hugged the man to her left. "This is my brother, by the way."
Anton smiled, and felt a little more relieved. "If she is under his supervision, likely none of these other men are going to bother her," he thought. But suddenly a new emotion came over him.
"You are German then?" he asked.
"Oh! As I like to say around here, for the _least _part," she laughed again. "Moscow is to be my new home. You could say that I _want _to be Russian."
"Then you imply you aren't really?"
"Well, my Father is German, but his father was a true German russophile, and was the founder of the company my father controls today. Bless my grandfather's soul, he only died 2 years ago," she bowed her head for a moment.
"What business is that?"
"Music publishing."
Anton nearly jumped out of his seat. "Are you serious??"
"Oh of course I'm serious, would I not be now?" she said frankly.
"If I only met your father then, that night..."
"Yes, he wasn't really looking for any composers, and he would never ask anyone from St. Petersburg to have a contract with. They don't make good music, in his opinion. Music must be more cosmopolitan, he said to me the other day."
"Really! That is all I stand for!"
"And I believe you! Your music reminded me of Tchaikovsky, and my family _loves _his music. My grandfather begged Tchaikovsky to publish his suite from Swan Lake, but he was turned down. Jurgenson seems to have all the prestige nowadays."
"Yes, to tell you the truth, I publish most of my works with Jurgenson, because they have been the most stable of the publishers I've seen here in Moscow. But I hadn't heard of your father's company at all."
"Yes, we are smaller, but I hope we are never bought out by Jurgenson. It's not fair, and my father says he wants to serve as competition for it."
This conversation quickly fascinated the other men at the table, and although Anton had not yet been introduced to them, he could tell they were all business-like themselves. The brother Piotr was especially curious.
Anton saw an opportunity arising, and found this the right time to speak.
"As you may or may not have been aware, Katerina Karlovna, there was a publisher from St.Petersburg visiting that Friday night, and I was asked to make a contract with him. He's not with Jurgenson, but his own man. However, I do not align myself with his ideals of the ideals of those others whom he publishes. They are _Nationalistic._"
"Ah! I see."
"In fact that night, some of those from St. Petersburg made a strike at me for my work, saying it was not Russian enough by being too much like Tchaikovsky."
"What did you say back??"
"I didn't respond, and still I haven't yet. But now, I think you all my help." Anton had a devious smile. The others closed around.
"In response to the treatment I had, will your company please take a look at my Suite?"
Piotr spoke up immediately. "I can arrange that immediately! Do you have the music now?"
"No I don't unfortunately, but I can bring it to you as soon as possible, maybe tomorrow?"
"In the place of my father, having heard what Katerina has said of you, I will make this deal, Anton Stepanovich!"
Piotr stood up, and held out his hand. Anton arose to held out his own in return.
"This was unexpected!" Katerina exclaimed. "I would never have thought I would see you again, let alone have this happen! Thank you, kind sir!"
Katerina's eyes were ablaze with joy.
"It is my pleasure," he bowed to her.
Looking around, he could see the jealousy arise in the other men's eyes. Even if they weren't suitors, all of them held Katerina with the highest respect, and finding a man who could so easily shove them all away hurt their pride. As for Anton, he was never more proud of himself. Because he wasn't finished.
"So you said you liked Tchaikovsky, miss Katerina?"
"Oh yes!"
"How would you like to meet him?"


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