by E. D. Brady
“I missed you today,” he said in a hushed voice.
“I missed you too,” she replied. She hung up and turned to face Issy’s inquisitive stare.
“Everything okay?” Issy asked.
Layla shrugged, wondering why she felt her eyes begin to prickle.
“What’s the matter?” Issy questioned with overwhelming concern.
“He said he missed me today,” Layla responded sadly.
“Wow, Jay’s smitten,” Issy mumbled.
“But what’s the point?” Layla asked. “It’s not like we can actually be together. Our lives are so different.”
“I don’t know if that’s true,” Issy answered, putting her hand on Layla’s knee. “Maybe it’s just the hopeless romantic in me, but I have faith that you’ll both find a way. I really hope you do because I like having you around.”
“Thanks,” Layla said, grateful for the compliment.
The following morning, Layla walked downstairs and into the kitchen to find Issy alone. “Where is everybody?” she asked.
“Gone again,” Issy replied. “They got home really late last night and left early this morning.”
Layla felt her heart sink yet again.
“Don’t look so glum,” Issy said, smiling. “Jay told me to tell you that he’ll be back early this evening, and that he requests the honor of a proper date with you.”
“He did?” Layla replied, unable to smother the smile that was spreading over her face.
“Yes,” Issy answered. “I have been tasked with taking you shopping for something wonderful to wear this evening. He said to tell you that he’ll meet you in the entry hall at seven o’clock on the dot. And I made you breakfast,” she added, smiling proudly. “So hurry up and eat, and then we’ll head to Saks, okay?”
After breakfast, Layla ran upstairs to change and freshen up quickly.
She met Issy and Rick at the bottom of the stairs fifteen minutes later. “Is he coming with us?” she whispered to Issy as Rick led the way to the garage.
“I was forbidden to leave the house without him,” Issy replied quietly. “I assured Ben, Jay and Joey that I wouldn’t leave the house unarmed, but they insisted that Rick come along.”
“Are you?” Layla questioned.
“Armed? Yes,” Issy replied bluntly. “And don’t worry, I have had extensive training in how to use my weapon.”
“Oh, good,” Layla answered sarcastically, shaking her head in disbelief.
Many hours later, Layla walked downstairs wearing a ridiculously expensive, tight, dark-green, spaghetti strap dress that met her knees and a pair of matching green shoes—complements of Issy’s credit card. Her hair was pulled up into a clamp at the back of her head with wispy pieces falling gracefully around her face.
When she noticed Jay standing at the bottom of the steps in a charcoal gray, hand-finished wool suit that hung perfectly on his athletic build, her breath hitched in her throat; he looked so distinguished it made her heart stammer.
She noted, with delight, how his eyes swelled as he awaited her at the foot of the steps. “You’re so beautiful,” he stated frankly.
“You look great, also,” she commented, noting that the words were so inadequate.
He walked forward to meet her as she stepped off the last stair and pulled her into his arms. “I missed you so much these past two days,” he said sincerely.
“I missed you also,” she answered, melting into him.
“We’ll go out through the garage,” he suggested. He took the velvet coat she carried and held it out for her to slip her arms into then grabbed hold of her hand. He led her to the back of the house and into a garage that was jam-packed with luxury vehicles.
Outside the open garage door sat the same black limo that had taken them there the night she arrived in Greenwich. The driver, who stood alongside, opened the door for them. “Thank you, Stanley,” Jay said.
“How many drivers do you have?” Layla questioned when she was seated comfortably on the plush leather seat.
“Stanley works for me exclusively,” Jay explained. “Frank is usually only on hire from time to time while I’m in North Carolina.”
“And he was so willing to enter into a gun fight for you?” she pushed.
“Frank is ex-marine and doubles as a bodyguard.”
Through the window, Layla noticed Rick and another burley gentlemen climb into a black SUV parked behind the limo. “The body guards?” she asked, gesturing out the window.
Jay nodded.
“I must admit, I’ve never dreamed of going on a date this way,” Layla said, enjoying the luxury against her normally humble nature.
Jay handed her a champagne flute filled with bubbling fluid. “Champagne?” she questioned.
“I know you’re underage, but one glass won’t hurt,” he said, smirking.
She sipped the cool liquid, enjoying how the bubbles danced on her tongue.
They rode up a deserted road for fifteen to twenty minutes, the black SUV hugging closely behind, until they reached a smaller road that turned up to an enormous complex.
“Vallen Enterprises,” Jay said, just as Layla spotted the giant words written across the top of the large double front doors.
“It’s huge,” she replied, staring with wonder at the building that seemed to go on forever. So overcome by the size of the structure, Layla never bothered to question what they were doing there. Just when she assumed that the car would pull into one of the many parking lots, it kept going past them, and on down a long, narrow road to the back of the complex. “Where are we going?” she finally asked.
“You’ll see,” Jay replied, a devilish smile on his face.
Finally, the limo slowed down, nearing a round, concrete patch of land that was surrounded by many small lights. In the middle of the concrete was a sleek, white helicopter with a gray and brown stripe running from the tail to the front.
When Stanley opened the door for them, Layla climbed out and went straight over to inspect the beauty closer.
“It’s a Sikorsky S-76C,” Jay said proudly as though that should actually mean something to Layla.
She walked around it once and stopped at the side. “Lucia,” she said aloud, running her fingers over the brown, cursive lettering that graced the bottom of the tail above the striped lines.
“This is my own private helicopter,” Jay explained, running his hand over the slick surface affectionately. “That’s what I named her.”
“It’s a pretty name,” Layla replied, looking at him questioningly.
“Yes, it is,” Jay answered. The glint of nostalgia in his eyes was a dead giveaway that Lucia was the name of someone who meant something to Jay.
Layla experienced a twinge of jealousy and swallowed, realizing that the reaction was childish, but felt the sting nonetheless. “It’s beautiful,” she said casually, looking over the helicopter with appreciation.
“It is, but no match for the beauty standing before me,” Jay replied, winking at her.
Layla smiled and felt the envy dissipate instantly, especially when she remembered that she was the only girl to ever see inside his house. That had to be worth something.
Rick opened the door and helped Layla climb into the compartment that looked very much like the inside of a limousine. Two rows of soft, brown, leather seats faced one another, each able to seat three. She and Jay sat together on one of the seats while Rick and the other bodyguard, Brian, sat up front completely blocked from view. “Rick is going to fly this thing?” Layla asked.
“He’s been doing it for years,” Jay assured her. “Don’t look so nervous. I’ve just had a new vibration reduction system installed, so you’ll hardly notice that you’re in a helicopter.”
“What if we plunge into the Long Island Sound?” she asked, looking mildly sick.
“Then we’re in luck. There is a state of the art, emergency flotation system in this baby.”
Layla didn’t bother to ask what would happen if they c
rashed into solid ground, assuming that the answer was obvious, not to mention gruesome, so she decided to change the subject. “Where are we going exactly?” she asked again.
“I believe you agreed to go to the movies with me.”
“Which, in my world, doesn’t usually involve helicopters,” she answered bluntly.
“I thought I’d take you home,” he replied casually. Layla didn’t even bother trying to figure out what that meant. She was beginning to feel nauseous.
Jay placed a set of head phones on her head and buckled the seatbelt around her waist. “Relax, Layla,” he scolded. “If I didn’t think this was perfectly safe, I wouldn’t subject you to it.”
As the helicopter rose into the air, Layla grabbed onto Jay’s hand, squeezing the living daylights out of it.
She felt somewhat better once the vehicle was moving forward, and after five more minutes in the air, she was beginning to actually enjoy the experience.
After some time of flying over fields, roads and subdivisions, Layla finally saw the outline of a large city up ahead. “New York?” she asked excitedly, turning to face him.
“It’s home, isn’t it?” Jay said, smiling at her wide-eyed wonder.
Before long, Layla was gazing out the window at the familiar metropolis underneath her. Her head skirted back and forth as she took in the sights of the city she’d left over a year ago.
Coming straight over Central Park, the helicopter veered left, while Layla rattled off all the stores and restaurants that she knew were somewhere just beneath them on Fifth, Madison, and Park Avenues, causing Jay to laugh at her enthusiasm.
They wavered over the East River, following the FDR to the helipad on 34th street.
When they were safely off Lucia, Jay put his hand on the small of Layla’s back and moved her gently toward a waiting limo a mere twenty feet away beyond the blast-fence.
This time, Rick and Brian climbed into the limo with them, but sat silently, looking out the window. The car headed back uptown, reaching Lincoln Center in just over ten minutes.
The limo pulled up in front of the AMC Lowes.
An official-looking man, possibly a manager, walked over and stood by the limo.
Rick opened the door and held out his hand to Layla as she climbed out of the car, then the manager escorted both Jay and Layla to a large, vacant theater.
“Where would you like to sit?” Jay questioned.
“Where are all the people?” Layla asked.
“It’s just us,” Jay responded. “I bought out the whole theater for this particular show.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little unnecessary?” Layla replied, feeling a flood of guilt for the special treatment, and for the fact that Rick and Brian stood like guards by the two side entrances and were obviously going to do so for the entire movie.
“Normally, I would agree with you,” Jay said, “but under the circumstances, I plan to make sure that you will be as safe as possible.”
They chose two seats in the dead center.
As soon as the movie started, Layla forgot her guilt and submersed herself in the best movie experience she’d ever had.
As soon as the lights went up, Jay was out of his seat and holding out his hand to her. “Dinner?” he asked.
They left the theater and walked, hand-in-hand, down one block—pretending that Rick and Brian were not so close to them—to a restaurant that screamed expensive. Inside, they were escorted to a large booth in the back while Brian and Rick were seated at two separate, smaller tables within view.
When Layla slid into the booth, she spotted the long-stemmed, red rose lying across her place setting. It was wrapped in clear, pink-tainted cellophane; a small card peeked out from the opening. She looked over at Jay, slipped the card out and opened the tiny envelope. ‘To Layla, thank you for sharing my world tonight,’ it said.
“Thank you so much,” she said quietly, lifting the rose to her nose to sniff it, but also to hide the overwhelming emotions blasting through her. If Mr. Vallen was trying to sweep her off her feet, he was doing a darn, fine job. She felt the last of her resolve shatter. She gazed over into his beautiful brown eyes and tried to come up with something to say, something that would convey her gratitude for such a wonderful evening.
“Are you angry?” Jay questioned.
“Are you kidding?” she blurted out.
“I’ve gathered that you’re not one for all this fanfare,” he said, looking apologetic.
“Normally, I’m not, but I’ve had a wonderful time so far. I was actually just trying to come up with the appropriate words to say thank you for the effort you’ve made.”
“It’s not necessary,” he replied. “It has honestly been my pleasure and the very least I could do for you.”
“Because you feel guilty about this whole ordeal?”
Jay laughed. “No,” he said, shaking his head, “because I have never met anyone like you before. I think I may be in over my head at this point.”
Well, that made two of them.
Layla blushed again. “Thank you,” she said, reaching over to squeeze his hand.
Of course the waiter handed her one of those menus without prices. “I don’t know what to order,” she said after looking over the menu for some time.
“May I?” Jay requested.
“Please do,” Layla replied, relieved to have the decision taken out of her hands.
Jay ordered wild burgundy escargots along with foie gras ravioli for appetizers, to be followed up by lobster risotto for Layla, and an herb crusted rack of lamb for himself. And when dinner was finished, he ordered a creme burlee for them to share.
“That was amazing,” Layla gushed as Jay paid the check.
“I’m glad you liked it,” he replied, scribbling on the credit card receipt.
“You’ll spoil me,” she said dreamily.
“I told you I wanted to, didn’t I?” he replied, looking up into her eyes to see if she recalled the night he first declared that.
By the time they walked outside, sandwiched between Rick and Brian, the limo was already waiting by the front door of the restaurant.
Twenty minutes later, they were back on Lucia en route to Connecticut.
Back at Vallen Enterprises, Stanley was waiting patiently for them at the helipad.
As they rode in the limo, away from the complex, Layla had her head resting on Jay’s shoulder, happy and exhausted.
Suddenly, Jay blurted out a loud curse word, causing Layla to snap her head up. The sight she witnessed, from beyond the side window, almost made the overly expensive dinner come right up her throat.
Chapter 18
The limo stopped short some feet from the house.
The front windows of the mansion were smashed, and smoke was billowing through the frames. There was a fire inside the dining room, surging out of control. The headlights from the limo landed on a masked man who turned to look toward the vehicle. He flicked a cigarette on the ground and yelled something that was incomprehensible to Layla.
Jay hit a button that brought down the divider in the car. “Get us out of here!” he yelled to the driver. Stanley spoke quickly into the radio, and soon the SUV was backing up out of the driveway with the limo tailing it.
A split second later, the limo was barreling down the road, back the way it came, with the SUV close behind.
“What about Issy, Ben and Joey?” Layla screeched. “We need to go back and get them!”
“Don’t worry,” Jay assured her. “I’m more than confident that they fled through the underground tunnel.”
Layla’s heart was stammering in her chest. “How did they get so close to your house?” she questioned frantically.
“I have no idea,” Jay replied, glaring out the back window as flames engulfed the front of his home. “I think it’s possible that our security system has been breached.”
When they reached Vallen Enterprises, the limo rode past the parking lots heading toward the helipad once agai
n, but this time it veered off to the left and down a tiny dirt road. At the end of the dark road was an old shed almost completely covered over with weeds and wild shrubs.
The car came to a dead stop. Jay jumped out, pulling Layla along with him, and pulled some dead and decayed branches from the front of a doorway. He pressed his thump to the side of the door frame, causing the door to open. He pulled Layla into the shed behind him and locked the door.
Layla looked around and noticed that the only thing in the little room was a staircase leading down. She allowed Jay to lead the way. When they finally reached the bottom, they were in a long, narrow, concrete corridor that seemed to go on forever.
Jay walked quickly, gripping Layla’s wrist, his expression blank.
Reaching the end of the dimly lit tunnel, they stopped at another door, this one made of thick, impenetrable steel. Jay scanned his thumb over a tiny box next to the door frame, and once again, the door popped open. He coaxed Layla into an empty room with a wooden door on the opposite side. He walked over and turned the door knob, leading her into what looked like a small unkempt living room. He flopped down on an old plaid couch and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes.
“I’m so sorry about your house,” Layla said.
Jay held out his arms for her. She wrapped her arms around him. “I couldn’t care less about the house,” he said into her hair. “I have more than enough money to buy a new one. What I’m fuming at is the realization that these men won’t quit until someone is dead.”
Just then, a door to the side opened and Issy, Ben and Joey came barreling into the room. Layla let go of Jay and ran to Issy. Without thought, she threw her arms around the girl.
Issy hugged her back then pushed her away gently. “I’m fine,” she assured Layla.
“You don’t look fine,” Layla said bluntly, staring in horror at Issy’s eyes. They were bright red.
“I got some tear gas in my eyes, but honestly, it’s okay,” Issy explained.
“What happened?” Jay demanded.
“We were in the kitchen,” Joey began. “Ben and I were sitting at the bar while Issy cooked. The next thing we knew, the kitchen window smashed and a silver cylinder was lying on the floor, and then the room was filling up with tear gas.”