Just To See Her (The Bancrofts: Book 8)

by Barrett, Brenda

  Clay tapped the table uneasily. "Look Ramon. I think this is just what Khaled wants, us to be saying about him. Let's forget him for the time being and get on with this project."

  Ramon nodded, but he was still uneasy with the whole Khaled issue. He looked at Clay contemplatively; he did not know Jessica for as long as he did. He wouldn't know how severely attached to Khaled she was, or how much she had personally invested in him. He could not allow Khaled to hurt her. He was going to spend all his spare time watching him.

  *****

  Ramon Rodriguez, detective. Ramon felt like saying drolly to the security at the gate when he drove in. He had been following Khaled for the past nine days, and understood why Clay was not so concerned about Jessica being too into Khaled. He saw the two of them interacting on Wednesday in front of the Music Building, and he could safely say that Jessica wasn't looking as if she was hero worshipping as he thought she would be. She held her body away from his, she laughed shrilly and insincerely at his jokes, and she was not talking as animatedly as he knew she did when she really liked someone.

  They stood in front of the building and spoke for ten minutes, and then she got into her car. She looked pensive, not at all relaxed, nor happy, not like the way she looked with Clay. He smiled to himself when he saw that. He could breathe a sigh of relief, but he would still monitor that situation to see how it was going.

  He followed Khaled to Blue Palm Apartment after that and was about to give up his detective work for the night because he had a meeting with his project group in a short while. Instead, his interest was peaked when he was about to reverse out of the parking lot and saw Khaled stop to talk with a guy who was wearing a black hat and had his hands in his pockets. He stopped the car and craned his neck, trying to see who it could be. The body language of the guy looked very familiar. Just then, another car drove into the parking and its headlights illuminated the guys face. He saw that it was Stewart.

  Stewart Rhoden, the guy who had accidentally lit the gun powder when Clay was looking through the microscope. He was talking animatedly to Khaled, and when the car lights went off, Ramon actually saw them hug. It was a reassuring tap on the back, the kind of thumping hug and pat on the back that only friends do with each other. Ramon started the car and drove out of the parking lot. That was puzzling and very strange. He didn't know those two were friends.

  *****

  "I wish Khaled would do a concert up here," a girl sitting to the left of him in the library was whispering fiercely to her friends.

  "I wish the president hadn't sent us the advisory that if we hounded David Khaled Green in anyway while he was on the Mount Faith campus we would be suspended. What kind of notice is that? does he think we are groupies?"

  "I got a picture with him," her perky friend said. "Here it is on my phone."

  They both looked over it and squealed. "I love him. I want to have his babies."

  Her other friend laughed. "In your dreams. I heard he is dating Jessica Bancroft."

  Clay looked around at the two of them angrily. "Are you girls aware that this is a library?"

  "Geesh." They looked across at him in disgust. "We are discussing current affairs."

  Clay got his books together and his trusty magnifying glass and moved deeper into the science section. He considered checking out the book and reading it at home, but it wasn't on the list of books that could be taken from the library. He had to finish his assigned task because he was determined that he would not be the weak link in the group project.

  He was perusing the book when a paper was slapped down on top of it.

  He looked up. It was Khaled.

  "That," Khaled said, "is a come out of retirement Khaled petition signed by three hundred students in the last day and a half."

  "Well, do it. Continue," Clay said exasperatedly. He pushed the paper off and went back to his book.

  "What did you say to Jessica?" Khaled growled. "She is treating me like I have a contagious disease."

  Clay chuckled. "Good girl."

  Khaled sat down across from him and folded his arms. "I bet you warned her that I was a player and that I was only after one thing."

  Clay shrugged. "Or maybe she just doesn't like you. Maybe she can smell phony from a mile off."

  "Well I have a plan for your precious Jessica," Khaled said. "I am going to see if she doesn't thaw toward me when I lay it on her. You know, the thing is Jessica is hard to read, but I think I have discovered her kryptonite."

  Clay looked up from the textbook. "Leave me alone David...Khaled...whatever you are calling yourself. Go and rack up some more petitions to soothe your over inflated ego."

  Khaled got up and growled. "I hate it when you put on that smug look. Let's see if you are still so smug after I'm finished with your girlfriend."

  Chapter Twelve

  Digital Broadcast Media was Jessica's only night class. Usually it would fascinate her, but for the past few weeks she had been going through a metamorphosis. She was confused and feeling lack luster and quite unlike her self. She waited impatiently for the class to end. Clay had declared tonight movie night in celebration of him being able to see clearly from his right eye; he was also inviting over Ramon.

  She knocked the pen on the desk. She was looking forward to movie night more than she was to seeing Khaled. She was even mixing up his name in her head. It was nothing like what she thought it would be. He was clearly interested in her, but her long held crush was gone.

  She was trying to hang onto the feeling for dear life, trying to recapture how she felt in the past, but the excitement and the chemical imbalance that was supposed to allow her to act like a maniac had drained away. She only felt that way about Clay these days. Why did Clay have to come to Mount Faith when he did? He was destroying all her long held fantasies in one swoop.

  She actually woke up looking forward to seeing him at the breakfast table in the mornings, and she went to bed with a smile on her face knowing that he was just down the hall. She was also listening to Khaled's songs differently. In the past, she would imagine him running his fingers along the piano, especially as he did the soulful solo pieces. Now, that glorious vision was ruined because she knew that Khaled couldn’t even play the piano, and she had a feeling that he was not interested in learning how to. Her fantasies were crumbling, one by one.

  She didn't realize that class was over. Students were still seated, but the lecturer had turned off her mike and was answering questions from some students at the front. A voice said behind her.

  "Delivery for Miss Jessica Bancroft." When she looked around, there was a guy with a big bouquet of blood red roses. Other persons were also looking over at her. She sank lower in the seat. She disliked being the center of attention like this.

  "Yes," she said weakly.

  "Please sign here." He shoved a paper at her and placed the flowers on the desk.

  "From Khaled," the guy said loudly. "He says ‘if you were mine I'd give you the world.’"

  Jessica shrunk even further into her seat. Some people were clapping and saying, "Aww."

  The guy moved away, and she looked at the perfumed flowers. There looked to be about three-dozen of them in an expensive glazed clay jar.

  Clay, she thought, as she inhaled the pungent aroma from the flowers. She just got a grand gesture from Khaled, and she was thinking about Clay. She almost jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder.

  "Sorry to startle you." Vanley walked around to her line of vision and sat beside her.

  She grinned in relief at her cousin. "What are you doing here?"

  "Chauffer services. Davia is working late. I was in the building, and I curiously followed the guy with the flowers. He created quite a stir in the lobby. All the ladies were swooning behind him. What is it about women and flowers? I sent a bouquet to Davia once, and she still talks about it as if it's a big deal."

  "It's a big deal for some women," Jessica said. "It's not my thing though and if the sender knew me, he'd know th
at. I find this super corny. It's just not me."

  Vanley sat in the seat beside her and then looked at the note. 'If you were mine, I’d give you the world? Khaled.'

  "Yup," Jessica said, turning off her laptop.

  "You don't look overwhelmed by the gesture, and we all know how much you love Khaled." Vanley said, frowning. "Are you okay, Jess?"

  "I am feeling out of sorts," Jessica said softly. People were slowly filing past her seat and stopping to admire the flowers. "And I don't love Khaled."

  So she finally admitted it aloud. It was such a relief when she said it, like she had gotten an epiphany. It was a defining moment for her; she needed to examine that statement when she was alone in her bed tonight.

  She almost missed Vanley's murmured reply.

  "Run that by me again?" She asked Vanley when she realized that she was looking at him and wasn't hearing a word.

  "I said, that statement sounds a bit like the situation when the devil carried Jesus on a high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory and said, 'All these will I give you, if you fall down and worship me.'"

  Jessica shook her head. "It's not the same thing."

  Vanley grinned. "Probably not. You have willingly worshipped Khaled for years, so this invitation is moot."

  "No," Jessica said uncomfortably. "What is worship?"

  "To show reverence and adoration for someone—to God, worship is a big deal."

  Jessica felt uncomfortable. "I might have gone overboard with my... er... adoration of Khaled, but that was before I met him." She looked at Vanley troubled. "Reality is catching up with me."

  Vanley squeezed her shoulder. "I am not judging you."

  "I know," Jessica said. "Actually, that's the reason I am not too happy. I just don't feel it, you know, and I'm not sure why. I was so into him, and now he is here in the flesh, yet I'm not feeling it anymore."

  "The scales have fallen from your eyes," Vanley said ruefully.

  "Yes, I guess," Jessica said. "I must be coming down with something."

  Vanley shook his head. "No you are not. I can confidently say that because I was in a somewhat similar situation couple months ago."

  Jessica pushed the laptop in the bag and got up. "With Anita?"

  Vanley nodded. "With Anita. Reality is a tough lady to deal with, huh?"

  "Talk to you later?" She picked up the flowers and sneezed.

  "Sure," Vanley responded.

  *****

  When Jessica walked into the house with the flowers in hand, Ramon and Clay were already in the living room.

  "Hey Jess," Ramon said, "Clay chose a chick flick just because you'd like it."

  Jessica put down the flowers, and Clay and Ramon looked at it and then at her.

  "A chick flick," she said heading over to the settee and sitting between the two of them. "That sounds like fun."

  "Er...aren't we going to talk about the 'perfumy' bundle of bush in the corner?" Ramon asked, raising his eyebrows at Jessica.

  "No," Jessica said. She shifted closer to Clay and put her head on his shoulder. "I just want to watch the chick flick."

  Ramon shook his head and raised his eyebrows at Clay.

  Clay ignored his prodding to say something and put an arm around Jessica instead.

  "She gets flowers but she comes home to me."

  Ramon chuckled. "Well...you do have a point."

  When the movie was half way through, Clay quietly asked Jessica, "Doesn't he know that you hate roses?"

  "Nope," Jessica said. "When we talk, he constantly talks about himself: where he went to do a concert, who he met, who knows him, who likes him, how crappy his life was before fame, how happy he is now. He is annoying."

  Ramon turned down the television and laughed. "I live to hear this. Did Jessica say that Khaled is annoying?"

  "Might as well you pause the show," Clay said to Ramon. “You seem to be getting very sleepy.”

  Ramon pressed the pause button on the remote in relief.

  Jessica, who still had her head on Clay's chest said softly, "So it's movie night but Ramon is sleepy, Clay is not really watching, and I'm thinking."

  "Yes," Ramon said, "it's those flowers. They smell too sweet. They are putting me to bed. Maybe the florist sprayed them with perfume to enhance the scent. It's stifling. I can't recall them smelling like that in nature."

  Jessica raised her head up from Clay's chest. "You really dislike Khaled, don't you?"

  "Yes," Ramon said. "And I have been spying on him these past couple of days, and from what I can see the only class he's attending is yours." He looked at Clay. "I don't want to start anything, but he hangs out with Stewart a lot, mostly at Blue Palm Apartments."

  Clay inhaled. "Are you sure?"

  "Yup," Ramon said, "I find it odd that he is hanging with the guy who lit the gunpowder that almost blinded you."

  Clays lips twisted. "It must be coincidence," he said aloud, but he wasn't really thinking that. It all made sense to him now.

  Jessica said, disgruntled. "You guys don't mind if I retire early. I really feel weird, you know, like you would before a flu."

  "Okay," Clay kissed her on her forehead.

  When she left Ramon got up too. "I am going to leave as well, Clay."

  "Hey man, thanks for spying on Khaled."

  "No problem," Ramon said. He headed to the door and sniffed a flower from the bouquet. "Smells as fake as the sender."

  When he left Clay turned off the television and sat alone in the dark, thinking.

  Chapter Thirteen

  David ‘Khaled’ Green had done many things in his life, but stealing was not one of them. He needed somebody to break into Clay's apartment. He needed that book of poetry that Clay always lugged around. He was near desperate to get the attention and the affection of Jessica Bancroft and he had belatedly realized that the usual gestures were not going to work. He was even seeing signs of contempt and distrust in her eyes.

  What was Clay telling that girl about him? She was slowly but surely withdrawing herself from him and warming up to Clay, who was blind, and to him, merely a student. She had gotten her priorities twisted, and he had to remind her that he was the one she had a crush on for years.

  That's why he needed Clay's poetry book. Jessica loved poetry and poetic things; Clay was the same. Clay was a poetic person at heart. Neil Reid would say that he was an old soul. He always wrote down his thoughts in a big book, and those thoughts usually found their way into songs. He was sure that Clay must have some new material in that book.

  Khaled snorted. Neil Reid only cared for two things: his profit margin and Clay. He couldn't stand the two of them, but he needed them and it irked him. He stubbed his toe on a side table and cursed fluently. Everything was conspiring against him, even the cheap-looking table.

  He needed that book of poems; he needed Jessica Bancroft to like him. He would prefer if she fell in love with him because he could see that she was Clay's weakness. He wanted to hurt Clay, but not only that, he would have something with which to bargain with Clay since he cared so much about Jessica.

  That girl was stronger and more self-possessed than she looked; added to that, she had a big bad family in her back pocket. He would have to tread softly, real softly where she was concerned.

  He needed that book. That book was the kryptonite. That would have Jessica's poetry-loving heart beating for him. The knock on his door couldn't have come soon enough for him. When he peeped through the keyhole, he saw that it was Stewart.

  He opened the door and dragged him in. "Why did you take so long to get here?" he hissed to his friend.

  "I had to be careful that no one saw me." Stewart hissed back, shrugging off his hand when he got into the room. "So what's the deal? Why did you drag me from my domino game in the student lounge?"

  "I need you to break into Clay's apartment next door," Khaled said, "I need his poetry book. Don't ransack the place I need it to be as neat as possible. I don't want an
y trouble, and don't want anyone suspecting me."

  Stewart shook his head. "I would have to wait until the block is completely still, that would be around three o'clock. The locks around here are easy to pick. I have gone into Tracy's apartment several times without her knowing."

  David snorted. "When I said you should pretend to be that girl's boyfriend I only asked because she was in the apartment beside Clay's."

  Stewart nodded. "I know. I liked her a lot though. At least she responded to me like duck to water, unlike how Jessica Bancroft is responding to you. I thought you said that this would have been a foolproof plan?"

  "It was supposed to be, but that girl is a hard nut to crack. She's a true creative, cerebral type. Nothing seems to be working with her. I send her flowers; I tell her how famous I am, trying to impress her, and she withdraws." Khaled sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs and crossed his legs. "I can't stand this place. It is so primitive."

  Stewart chuckled. "Unfortunately, universities do not cater to pop stars; they cater to ordinary students."

  "It's been three weeks now." Khaled growled. "Why isn't that girl into me yet?"

  "Because for once, a girl just prefers Clay to David."

  "I look better, I dress better, and I am famous." He threw up his hand in the air. "What's the deal?"

  "Maybe she likes Clay because she can sense that he genuinely likes her. You know children and animals respond to inner kindness."

  David growled. "What do you know?

  "Clay is a genuinely nice guy and you are not. There is a cold edge to you."

  "Remember who is paying you," David said sternly, "and whose friend you are."

  "I remember," Stewart said, "and thanks for thinking of me for this gig. It is the most profitable gig I've had all year, and even though I am no actor, I pulled off that stunt in the lab really well."