Now and Forever (1978)

by Steel, Danielle

  She asked her own attorneys to have the papers drawn up. Lady J would become hers for the sum of eighty-five thousand dollars. Both she and Jessie were pleased with the price. The only twinge Jessica felt was at the mention of Astrid's changing the name of the boutique to Lady A. At least it would sound almost the same to their clients. But it wouldn't be the same anymore. It would be Astrid's. The end of an era had finally come.

  They were sitting in the back office discussing plans for the sale when Katsuko appeared in the doorway with a smile on her face.

  "There's someone here to see you, Jessie. Someone very pretty to look at, I might add."

  "Oh?" She poked her head out the door and saw Geoffrey. "Oh! Hello." She beckoned him into the office, and introduced him to Astrid, explaining that Mrs. Williams was her mother.

  "You know my mother?" Astrid was surprised. Her mother didn't know anyone like Geoffrey.

  "I had the pleasure of meeting her this weekend, at the ranch." Astrid's eyebrows shot up as she cast a look of surprise at Jessica, and Geoffrey added quickly, "I was down there visiting friends." And suddenly Astrid's face said that she understood why Jessica was planning to spend the summer down there, in her creaking rented Victorian house. Astrid almost wondered if that was why she was selling the shop. But she felt as though she had missed a piece of the story somehow. Had Jessica been keeping secrets? She looked over to see Geoffrey looking at Jessica warmly. And Astrid restrained the questions on the tip of her lips. How? When? What next? Did he ... was he ... would he ... He broke into her thoughts with another blistering smile.

  "May I invite you two lovely ladies to lunch?" He even managed gently to encompass Katsuko with a look of regret; he knew someone would have to stay home, to mind the store. His manners were impeccable. And Astrid liked that. She was almost tempted into lunch, out of curiosity, but she didn't want to do that to Jessie. But Jessica was quick to shake her head about lunch.

  "Don't even tempt us, Geoffrey. We were just discussing some business matters, about the sale of the shop, and ..."

  "Oh, for heaven's sake, Jessica!" Astrid broke in on Jessie's conscientious protests. "Don't be silly--we can talk business later. I have some errands to do anyway. I have to go downtown--" she looked sorrowfully at Geoffrey--"but you two go ahead and have a nice lunch. I'll meet you back here around two or two-thirty."

  "Make it two-thirty, Mrs. Bonner." Geoffrey was quick to step in. And Jessica sat back and watched. She liked the way he dealt with things. He was used to wielding power and it showed. It made her feel safe, but not threatened. Now that she didn't need to be taken care of, his attentions were a luxury, not a life-giving plasma. She was enjoying the difference, and found herself wondering what it would have been like with Ian, had her needs not been so desperate, had she been more sure of herself. But she brushed the thought from her mind.

  They had lunch nearby, in a garden restaurant on Union Street, and it was a very pleasant meal. He had a passion for horses, and flew his own plane, was planning a trip to Africa the following winter, and had gone to Cambridge, after Eton. And it was clear that he was very taken with Jessie. And every time he smiled that magnificent smile of his, she melted.

  "I must say, Jessica, you look very different up here, in town."

  "It's amazing what a difference it makes when I comb my hair." They both smiled at the memory of their first meeting. "I even wear shoes around here."

  "Do you? How refreshing. Let me take a look." He teasingly swept aside the tablecloth to glance at her feet, and saw a very handsome pair of cinnamon suede Gucci shoes. They were almost exactly the color of the suede skirt she had on with a salmon silk blouse. The salmon shade was Ian's favorite color, and she had had to force herself to put it on this morning. So what if it was Ian's favorite? That was no reason to give it up. She hadn't worn the blouse in months, as though by not doing so she were somehow renouncing him. Now it seemed foolish.

  "I approve of your shoes. And by the way, that's a very handsome blouse." She blushed at the compliment, mostly because it reminded her of Ian. There was something about Geoffrey ...

  "What were you just thinking?" He had glimpsed a shadow passing rapidly across her eyes.

  "Nothing."

  "Shame on you, telling lies. Something serious crossed your mind. Something sad?" It had looked that way.

  "Of course not." She was embarrassed that he had seen so much. Too much. He was very observant.

  "Have you never been married, Jessie? It seemed remarkable to have the good fortune to find a woman like you, free and unattached. Or am I making assumptions?" But he had wanted to know ever since he'd met her.

  "You're making the right assumptions. I'm free and unattached. And yes, I was married." His timing was amazing, as though he had read her mind.

  "Any children?" He raised an eyebrow with a curious air.

  "No. None."

  "Good."

  "Good?" It was an odd thing to say. "You don't like children, Geoffrey?"

  "Very much. Other people's." He smiled without embarrassment. "In fact, I'm a perfectly marvelous uncle. But I'd make a perfectly terrible father."

  "What makes you say that?"

  "I move about too much. I'm too selfish. When I love a woman, I detest sharing her in any major way, and if you're going to be a proper mother, you've got to spread yourself pretty thin between husband and offspring. Perhaps I'm too much a child myself, but I want to enjoy long romantic evenings, unexpected trips to Paris, skiing in Switzerland without three little runny-noses crying in the car ... I can give you a thousand dreadful, horribly selfish reasons. But all of them honest. Does that shock you?" He didn't apologize for what he was saying, but he was willing to accept that she might not approve. He had long since stopped making excuses. In fact, he had seen to it that there was no longer a possibility of a "slip." He had made up his mind, and now there was no question of it.

  "No, it doesn't shock me. I've always felt that way myself. In fact, exactly that way."

  "But?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "There was a 'but' in your voice." He said it very softly, and she smiled. "Was there? I'm not sure. I used to have very definite ideas on the subject. But I don't know ... I've changed a lot."

  "Changing is natural if you've gotten divorced. But suddenly you find you want children? I should think you'd want permanent freedom."

  "Not necessarily. And I haven't made any grandiose policy changes about children either. I've just started asking myself a lot of questions."

  "Actually, Jessie--" he held her hand gently as he said it--"I rather think you'd be happier without children. You seem very much like me. Determined, free; you enjoy what you do; I somehow can't imagine you chucking all that for a little squally person in diapers." She grinned at the thought.

  "God."

  "Quite." They laughed for a moment, and took a sip of their wine as the second batch of lunch customers began to arrive. They had already been sitting there for almost two hours. It was odd to be talking to him about children all of a sudden. She got the feeling that the subject was important to him, and he wanted to get it out of the way early. And he certainly shared all the views she'd held dear for a decade.

  Jessica stretched her legs and finished her wine, wondering if she should get back to the shop, and then suddenly thinking that she must be keeping him from appointments too. But the time together was so pleasant, it was hard to bring it to an end.

  "I'm going to Paris on business next week, Jessica. Is there anything I can bring you?"

  "What a lovely thought Paris." Her eyes danced at the idea. Paris.

  "Let's see ... you could bring me ... the Louvre ... Sacre-Coeur ... the Cafe Flore ... the Brasserie Lipp ... the Champs Elysees ... oh, and the entire Faubourg St Honore." She giggled at the thought of it.

  "That's what I like. A woman who knows what she wants. As a matter of fact, how about coming with me?"

  "Are you kidding?"

  "I certainly
am not. I'll only be gone for three or four days. You could get away for that long, couldn't you?" Yes, but with a total stranger? God only knew who he was.

  "I've been meaning to go to New York for the shop, but now I don't need to, and ... Paris ...?" She didn't know what to say. After all those jerks who had crawled all over her, here was a perfectly heavenly man, and he wanted to take her to Paris.

  "We don't ..." He looked awkward but sweet. "We don't have to share the same room. If you'd be more comfortable ..."

  "Geoffrey! You're an angel. And stop it, or I'll wind up doing it and neglecting all the things I ought to do here. I'm very touched that you'd ask, but I really can't."

  "Well, let's wait and see. You might change your mind."

  Wow. Geoffrey was really quite amazing. Paris? She almost wanted to say yes, but ... why not? Why the hell not? Paris? ... God, it would be gorgeous, but ... dammit, why did she feel as if she'd be cheating on Ian? What difference did it make now? She was free. He wouldn't even know. She never saw him anymore anyway. But ... somehow ... he was there ... with a look of pain in his eyes, as though he didn't want her to go. She tried to shake his face from her mind, and smiled at Geoffrey.

  "Thank you for the offer."

  "I do wish you'd come. See what I mean about enjoying impromptu trips? I love that sort of thing! Not much fun if you have to drag along a nanny and four brats, or leave them at home and feel guilty. Being an uncle is really much simpler. Have you any nieces or nephews?" She shook her head quietly. "Brothers or sisters?"

  "No. I had a brother, but he died in the war."

  Geoffrey looked puzzled for a moment. "The second one, or Korea? In either case, he must have been quite a bit older."

  "No. Vietnam."

  "Of course. How stupid of me. How awful. Were you very close?" His pressure on her hand grew a trifle stronger, as though to support her. His thoughtfulness pleased her a great deal.

  "Yes. We were very close. It did awful things to me when he died." It was the first time she had ever been able to say that. The last few months had freed her in more ways than she knew.

  "I'm sorry."

  She nodded and smiled. "And how many brothers and sisters do you have?"

  "Two sisters, and a very stuffy brother. My sisters are quite mad. But very amusing."

  "Do you still spend much time in Europe?"

  "Quite a bit. A few days here, a few days there. I enjoy it very much that way. By the way, Jessica, shouldn't I be taking you back to the shop for your meeting with Astrid?"

  "Christ. I forgot all about it. You're right!" She looked at her watch regretfully, and smiled at him again. It had been a lovely few hours.

  "I've been keeping you from your appointments too, I suspect."

  "Yes, I ..." But laughter took the place of seriousness and he looked at her with a mischievous smile. "No, I didn't have a single appointment. I came up here entirely to see you." He sat back in his chair and laughed at himself, as though very pleased.

  "You did?" Jessica looked astonished.

  "I most certainly did. I hope you don't mind."

  "No. I'm just surprised." Very surprised, and a little taken aback. What did that mean? He had come up to see her ... and the suggestion of the trip to Paris ... dammit. Was he going to be like everyone else and expect to exchange a meal for her body?

  "Oh, the look on your face, Jessica!"

  "What look?" There was laughter and embarrassment in her voice. What if he really had known what she'd been thinking? He seemed to do that a lot.

  "Would you like to know what look?"

  "Okay. See if you can guess." She might as well brazen it out.

  "Well, if I tell you that I have a room at the Huntington, will you feel any better?"

  "Oh! You!" She swatted him with her napkin. "I was not ... !"

  "You were too!"

  "I was too!"

  They both laughed, and he slipped a large bill onto the waiter's plate and got up to help Jessica into her jacket.

  "I apologize for my thoughts." Jessica hung her head with a grin.

  "You certainly ought to." But he gave her a friendly hug on their way out and they laughed and teased all the way back to the shop. Astrid was waiting for them with a relaxed smile when they got in. It pleased her to see Jessie happy again, and with a man.

  "I'll leave you now to your meetings and your business and your whatever-it-is-you-do. And Jessica, what time shall I fetch you?"

  "From here?" She looked surprised. It was strange to be taken care of again, escorted and assisted, picked up and brought back. She had missed it for so long, and now she didn't quite know how to handle it again. It was like coming back to shoes after months of barefeet.

  "Would you rather I meet you after work?"

  "Either way." She looked at him happily, and for a moment neither of them spoke. She had been about to offer him her car, but she couldn't quite do that. Not ... not the Morgan. She felt rotten for not offering it, but she couldn't.

  "Why don't I give you time to go home and relax? May I pick you up there?" Since he already knew that she was a little bit skittish, they both laughed, but she nodded.

  "That'll be fine."

  "Say at seven? Dinner at eight."

  "Super." And then suddenly she had a thought. He was almost at the door of the shop, and she quickly walked toward him. "You don't know San Francisco very well, do you?"

  "Not very. But I expect I can find my way around." He looked amused at her concern.

  "How would you like a tour at the end of the day?"

  "With you?"

  "Of course."

  "That's a splendid idea."

  "Great. Where will you be around five?"

  "Anywhere you say."

  "All right. I'll pick you up outside the St Francis Hotel at five. Okay?"

  "Very much so."

  He gave her a quick salute and ran quickly down the steps of the shop as Jessica turned back to Astrid.

  Somehow she had a hard time keeping her mind on what they were saying as they discussed the sale of Lady J.

  "Right, Jessie?"

  "Huh?" Astrid was grinning at her when she looked up. "Oh, shit."

  "Don't tell me you're falling in love."

  "Nothing like it. But he's a very nice man. Isn't he?" She wanted Astrid's approval.

  "He looks like it, Jessie."

  Jessica looked up at her friend and giggled like a schoolgirl. It seemed hours before they had their business settled, although both women were pleased with the results. Jessica got up jubilantly from her desk, pirouetted on one heel of the pretty Gucci shoes, and looked at her watch.

  "And now, I have to go." She picked up her bag, blew Astrid a kiss, and paused happily at the door for a moment. "In fifteen minutes I have to pick up Ian." With a rapid wave she was out the door and down the steps--without ever realizing what she had said. Astrid shook her head and wondered if she'd ever get over him. More than that, she wondered how Ian was doing. She missed him. And thinking of him threw a damper on her excitement about Jessie's new friend.

  Jessie was already backing out of the drive and on her way to meet Geoffrey.

  Chapter 33

  "Am I late?" She looked worried as she pulled up in front of the St. Francis. She had run into unexpected traffic on the way downtown. But he looked happy and relaxed, like a man who is looking forward to seeing someone, not like a man who has been kept waiting.

  "Oh, I've been here for hours."

  "Liar."

  "Heavens! What an outrageous thing to call a man!" But he looked delighted to see her, and allowed himself to lean over and give her a peck on the cheek. She liked the friendliness of it. The hugs before passion ever became an issue. The little touches of the hand, the quick kiss on the cheek. It made things less awesome that way. They were becoming friends. She was falling in like.

  "Where are you taking me?"

  "Everywhere." She eyed him with pleasure as she drove up to Nob Hill.

/>   "What a promise. Well, I know where we are now, anyway. That's my hotel." She ignored him, and he grinned.

  "This is Nob Hill." And she pointed out Grace Cathedral, the Pacific Union Club, and three of the city's poshest hotels. From there they swooped down California Street to the Embarcadero, the Ferry Building, and a quick view of the docks. Up toward Ghirardelli Square and the Cannery, where she pointed out the honeycomb of boutiques right after they passed Fisherman's Wharf (where she had stopped and bought him a well-filled cup of fresh shrimp and a huge hunk of sourdough bread).

  "What a tour. My dear, I'm overwhelmed." And she was having a marvelous time as well.

  From there, they went on to watch the old men playing boccie on the rim of the bay, and then up to the yacht basin and the St. Francis Yacht Club. This was followed by a sedate tour past blocks and blocks and blocks of elaborate mansions. After which they took refuge in Golden Gate Park. And her timing was perfect. It was just nearing sunset, and the light on the flowers and lawns was gold and pink and very lovely. It was Jessica's favorite time of day.

  They walked past endless flower beds, and along curved walks, past little waterfalls, and around a small lake, until at last they reached the Japanese tea garden.

  "Jessica, you give an extraordinarily good tour."

  "At your service, sir." She swept him a formal curtsy, and he put a quick arm around her shoulders. It had been a beautiful day and she was beginning to feel as though she really knew him.

  She liked his reactions, his way of thinking, his sense of humor, and the gentle way he seemed to care about how she felt. And he seemed so much like her. He had the same kind of free and easy ways, the same craving for independence. He seemed to like his work, and he certainly didn't appear to be suffering financially. He really seemed the perfect companion. For a while, anyway. And he was nice to her. She had learned to be grateful for that, without leaning on him too heavily.

  "What do you like to do more than anything in this world, Jessica?" They were sipping green tea and munching little Japanese cookies in the tea garden.

  "More than anything else? Paint, I guess."