Just To See Her (The Bancrofts: Book 8)

by Barrett, Brenda

  "Shut up," David said. He was feeling a bit paranoid about what he asked Stewart to do to Clay. Even for him, that was pushing the boundaries too far. "Suppose somebody is listening?"

  Stewart sat down across from him. "Nobody suspects me as being anything else other than what I am, a regular student. Who would be listening? David, this jealousy of Clay is getting to your head. At the risk of me losing some money, I need to know why you are so interested in him. Can't you get another songwriter and producer? After all, you are Khaled. You are the talent. Clay is just one of many service people."

  David shook his head. "He is a genius. You don't understand. Everything he touches in the studio comes to life. My career would not be the same without him."

  "That's why he leaves and then you announce your retirement?"

  "Something like that," Khaled said. "Without him, my career is as good as dead."

  "You could go out and forge your own destiny," Stewart said. "You are well known; you can write your ticket for any other studio. You don't need iJam."

  David shook his head. "But I do. More than you know. Just get me that book of poems."

  When Stewart got the book of poems in the wee hours of the morning, David almost salivated at the wealth of material in it. The first one was Golden Girl, where Clay described Jessica. He loved it. It would make a great song.

  He grabbed his phone. There was no time like the present to start wooing Jessica Bancroft. He would do it properly this time, the way that she wanted it. He was now playing on her terms. He sent her the first verse of the poem via text message and lay down in his student's bed with a smile on his face. Let's see if she can resist that. He almost laughed at his cunning maneuver.

  *****

  When the sun touches her hair, it's like golden sparks, the type of gold that sparkles like good wine that never goes flat.

  Jessica read the text several times for the day and found herself smiling each time. He really can write. She was feeling the attraction for Khaled that she thought had been lost come roaring back.

  She wasn't surprised when she saw him outside her last class with his hand in his pocket, standing beside a champagne colored Range Rover.

  He waved to her, and when she came near he said softly, "And when she smiles, my heart quickens in reply, thundering in my ear. She is poetry in motion."

  Jessica’s smile got even wider. "Hey."

  "Hey," David said softly. "I was wondering if you got my text."

  "I did." Jessica nodded. "It's really pretty. I like it."

  "And I like you," David said easily. "What are you up to this evening?"

  "Nothing much," Jessica said slowly. "I have a poetry society meeting. Want to come with me?"

  "You guys have that here? I would really love to come; I do love poetry."

  Jessica looked at him, pleased. "You know, this is exactly how I imagined it would go when you first came here."

  "It was?" David smiled slowly.

  "Yeah," Jessica nodded. "I am just now seeing the artist in you."

  David mused. "I was trying to hold it down, you know…didn't want to seem as if I was a show off or anything."

  "I would not have thought that at all," Jessica said. "I really love the words of your songs and I...," she bent her head shyly, "I know they had to come from a heart that felt deeply, and I am just happy that I am seeing this side of you."

  David touched her hair. "I am sorry I never showed it before."

  Jessica smiled at him warmly. "Want to go to the Business Center for something to eat before the meeting?"

  "Sure," David said, "and then you can tell me all about you. I just realize that I don't know anything much about you."

  *****

  On the last day of October, Clay realized two things as he was sitting around the Bancroft's breakfast table. Firstly, Jessica was not making eye contact with him anymore, and secondly, he could see out of his left eye much better. He could move out now, back to Blue Palm Apartments without having any issues.

  He set his glasses firmer on his nose bridge. He couldn't do that, not when Jessica was suddenly being secretive, not when he suspected that her feelings for Khaled had changed.

  What could have caused this sudden warming to Khaled?

  He watched her as she sneaked a look on her phone screen. Another text. He saw her eyes light up.

  He wanted to ask her what it said. He was glad when a grumpy looking Dr. Bancroft did it for him.

  "What's so funny, Jessica?"

  Jessica cleared her throat and looked at all of them sheepishly. "Nothing."

  Bancroft grunted.

  Clay wanted to shake her. It seemed as if she had buried everything that he had told her about Khaled and was giving him a chance. Khaled had figured out that flowers were not going to work, so obviously he had been trying a new approach. What had he called it, her kryptonite? What was Jessica's kryptonite?

  He heard the ping on her phone indicating that another text was received, and then he got it. The old schemer was using poetry. But Khaled didn't know any poetry. He was not very poetic. The extent of his repertoire was 'roses are red, violets are blue'.

  Throughout breakfast he watched Jessica closely, and when she was finished he hurriedly got up as well. "Hey, Jess, want me to walk you to class?"

  Jessica looked at him, a little guilt in her glance. "Sure."

  "What's wrong?" Clay asked when they were on their way down the driveway. Dr. Bancroft's dog, Daryl, was loping beside them, but he stopped before they could open the gate.

  Jessica looked at the dog and said, "Bye, Daryl," before she closed the gate.

  Clay could see that she didn't want to answer the question. She had secrets, and he was sure that they involved Khaled, and he was sure that he was not going to like what he heard. He felt a tight hold of jealousy gripping him, and she had not even spoken yet.

  "I like Khaled, I mean David again," Jessica finally said. "You and I have not really been official and so...," she shrugged, "I didn't see a need to tell you."

  Clay inhaled. The cool morning air tangled with his lungs, almost burning him as he held on to it before he finally exhaled. The burning sensation was still there. He wanted to shout at her, shake her. What did she mean she didn't see a need to tell him?

  He wanted to tell her how deceitful David was, but he knew he couldn't say anything without telling her the whole story, and he couldn't tell her the whole story because he was heavily involved in it. He bit his lip and grunted.

  Jessica glanced at him. "I am sorry, okay, but you and I were just..."

  "We could have been really good together," Clay said hoarsely, before she could give him her Dear John speech in favor of her precious Khaled. He didn't want to hear it. He walked faster which had her fighting to catch up. He almost laughed bitterly at the irony of it. Usually it was the other way around, but anger was propelling him faster than anything else could.

  "Wait, Clay," Jessica said, "I am just hanging out with him. It's not serious."

  Clay sighed and looked behind at her. "You are playing with fire, Jess."

  Jessica slowed down and watched him walk away. Who was fire, Clay, or Khaled? She really wished that she weren't so caught up with the two of them. Her simple life was now getting so complicated.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Clay called his uncle as soon as he reached the science building and enclosed himself in an alcove where he knew nobody could hear him. He was breathing hard; he wasn't sure if it was the walk or the anger that had him so worked up.

  He felt jittery. He jabbed the numbers on his phone and paced while he waited for his uncle to answer. When he finally did, he realized that his voice was quivery.

  "Listen uncle, I want to know what's the connection between Stewart Rhoden and David Green?"

  "Ah," Neil said, "you have finally come to the realization that that boy being at Mount Faith was a well-orchestrated move."

  "Yes," Clay hissed, "and that my almost being blinded w
as no coincidence."

  "How is the eye?" Neil asked breezily. He had long come to that conclusion so he was not as agitated as Clay.

  "My eyes are almost fine. The left one is coming back. The doctor said they will be back to normal in a few weeks."

  "When are you coming back home?" his uncle said after a pause.

  Clay felt trapped. His independence was very much at stake here. He hated this feeling of not being able to do what he wanted, but with David at Mount Faith trying to woo Jessica, and on the verge of succeeding, he didn't know what to do. He could have easily taken anything that David had coming his way but he didn't want Jessica to get hurt.

  He sighed. "I don't want to come back to the studio just now," he said faintly.

  "Just do one more album," Neil said softly, "and the contract will be fulfilled. I promise you that I will leave you alone to do whatever you want to do with your future. At the very least, if you do this it will get David off your back."

  Clay grunted. "I don't know..."

  "How many courses do you have left?" Neil asked, smelling capitulation.

  "Two, next semester," Clay said, "and then I am done."

  "Do you have to do them there?" Neil asked. "Why don't you do them while we work on the seventh album? I promise I won't put any pressure on you."

  Clay hung his head and stared at the tip of his sneakers. If he agreed to his uncle’s offer, he would be telling Jessica goodbye in December. Maybe she wouldn't miss him anyway. The thought made him grit his teeth.

  "Okay," he said to his uncle. "I'll do it."

  Neil whooped. "Yes!"

  Clay hung up the phone and felt a light feeling take him over.

  "Hey, what's wrong?"

  He looked up reluctantly and saw that the person asking him was Stewart. He grimaced. "How much is David paying you to follow me?"

  Stewart frowned and came nearer to him. "What are you talking about, Clay?"

  "You've been pretty scarce around here since you blinded me," Clay said, "but then again, I couldn't see so I wouldn't know, would I?"

  He didn't even feel angry toward Stewart. He felt like shaking David Green, the self-centered prig, right this minute.

  Stewart frowned. "I don't know what are you talking about."

  Clay sighed. "I know okay. I can see fairly well again, and I put two and two together."

  "I knew your eye wouldn't be permanently blinded," Stewart said smugly. "The same thing happened to me when I was younger, and I had no ill effects. You see I know a thing or two about chemistry, and David said he wanted you temporarily incapacitated. That experiment was a God send."

  Clay snorted." Excuse me if I don't have the same reaction. Did you come up here to Mount Faith just to spy on me?"

  Stewart sat across from him. "Yup. I enrolled shortly after you did."

  "And all of that madness about Tracy was fake, wasn't it?"

  "Yup," Stewart said unrepentantly. "I made it up to have a story. I dated her just in case. Let me tell you, that girl is a handful. It was the longest two months of my life."

  "Was she really seeing Ray?" Clay asked curiously.

  Stewart nodded. "Apparently she was using him to build some super secret perfume thing for some class or the other she was taking. He did it, and now they have parted ways."

  Clay sighed. "I should have you and David locked up for assault or conspiracy to do bodily harm. That carries some jail time, doesn't it?"

  Stewart looked at him. "Yes, it does. That's the reaction I expected when you were first blinded, but what I found intriguing was that David told me that you wouldn't do that. He said that you didn't want any publicity. What's the deal with you, David, and your uncle?"

  "David isn't much of a friend if he hasn't told you everything," Clay said wearily.

  "I guess. If I were more curious, I would figure it out myself," Stewart said, shrugging.

  Clay sighed. "I have a class. Unlike you, I really came up here to finish a degree."

  Stewart stood up and watched him as he walked away. He was glad that he didn't have to pretend to go to the classes anymore because he sensed that his time at Mount Faith was coming to an end.

  *****

  It was raining when Khaled called Jessica. "Want to go for an evening stroll?"

  Jessica looked across at Clay. He was sitting in the living room in the chair across from her. He had his big science book open and was perusing it with a magnifying glass.

  After their conversation this morning, she had kind of expected that he would move out. She knew that he could now see properly from both eyes. She dreaded coming home, thinking that he was not going to be around.

  Her heart still did that weird thing when she saw him, but she suppressed it. He was just a guy. She was getting to know the real Khaled, the one she had always wanted. There could be no space for Clay.

  "Or," Khaled was saying in her ear, "you could come and help me to finish this poem that I started. I entitled it, Jessica."

  Jessica laughed uncomfortably, glancing at Clay. "You did?"

  "Yes." Khaled breathed in her ear. "If you asked me the question who is she, the answer would be that Jessica is the girl for me."

  "Khaled," Jessica said breathlessly, "that's so sweet." She got up because Clay had looked up when she said “Khaled”, and his eyes were eating her alive. She could actually feel the heat from them.

  She moved toward her room. "I can't leave my house; it is raining cats and dogs."

  "I am outside," Khaled said, "and it's not that bad. I can make a mean hot chocolate at my apartment to chase away the chills."

  Jessica glanced at Clay who had swiveled around to watch her progress, and then she said breathlessly. "Okay, I'll be right there."

  "Stop looking at me like that," she said when she hung up the phone.

  Clay grimaced. "Sorry. It's a privilege to see you. After the accident I vowed to take advantage of sight for as long as I can."

  "I am going out," Jessica said defiantly.

  She went into her room and grabbed her raincoat, completely missing Clay's crumpling expression.

  When she got up, he had schooled his face into a calm he did not feel. "I'll wait up."

  "Don't wait up. I am an adult; I know what I am doing. Leave me alone."

  She already felt bad and guilty, and she didn't want him to sit there with his long-suffering martyr expression and judge her. She had waited her whole life for Khaled. She didn't want anybody to rain on her parade.

  She opened the front door. The visibility was poor. There was even a fog over the hills in the distance. She walked down to Khaled's car; inside was mercifully warm.

  "Hey," she said.

  "Hey." He was in a red shirt; his dimples showed as he flashed a smile at her. He was gorgeous. Her wayward heart, which once had only shown signs of movement for Clay, was now fully functional, and it was racing a mile a minute for Khaled.

  He smelled good. He leaned over her to check if she had her seat belt on right and brushed her breasts in the process.

  He smiled at her warmly. "I know this must sound weird," he said softly, "but I love weather like this."

  "Me too," Jessica said. "I had this fantasy once…" She shook her head. She shouldn't tell him about her fantasy of both of them kissing with the elements crashing around them.

  "What, Jessica?" he asked, his green eyes lighting up.

  "Nothing. I might tell you another day." She looked back at the house; the curtains had shifted, and Clay's silhouette was at the window.

  "Lets get out of here," she said hurriedly.

  David chuckled. "Is he seeing better now?"

  "Yes. Sort of."

  "So why don't you kick him out? David asked. "Hasn't he overstayed his welcome?"

  Jessica swallowed. She didn't want to talk about Clay and she didn't want to kick him out, as David had so casually put it.

  "He's okay," Jessica said lamely. What she felt for Clay couldn't be put into words. Mixed up was more lik
e it. One thing was for sure: a part of her wanted him near.

  *****

  When Jessica let herself inside later that night, she glanced at her watch; it was twenty minutes after twelve. She had really had a good time. She had sat with Khaled and listened to music. He told her what inspired some of her favorite songs, and they talked about everything and nothing. It had been cozy and intimate and such a great time that she didn't wanted to leave.

  She glanced at the settee. True to his word Clay was up. He looked at her as she opened the door and then back into his book.

  "Goodnight," she said defiantly.

  He didn't answer. Jessica's previous high suddenly deflated. He was making her feel really bad, like she was a cheater or something. She walked off to her room, looking at the back of his head before she closed her door and leaned on it. She was torturing herself with Clay around; she should ask him to leave.

  Clay stopped pretending that he was reading his textbook and closed it when he heard the click of her door. He closed his eyes rubbing them tiredly.

  "Enlighten me." He jumped when he heard the gruff voice behind him. Bancroft walked into his line of vision and sat down in his favorite rocking chair.

  "About what?" Clay asked curiously.

  Bancroft looked at him his eyebrow raised. "Your sight is back?"

  Clay nodded.

  "And you are still here," Bancroft frowned, "while my daughter is seeing that singer."

  Clay shrugged. "Sorry, Dr. Bancroft; I can always leave."

  "No," Bancroft shook his head. "I don't want you to leave. You can stay here. I find this fascinating. How do you feel about Jessica?"

  "I..." Clay sighed, "I...like her a lot."

  Bancroft nodded. "So why are you passively waiting while she goes out with this Khaled guy."

  Clay shook his head and looked down at his fingers. "I am not passive Sir. I am pathetic."

  "Explain," Bancroft said, looking at him contemplatively, like he was a puzzle that he had yet to solve.