"If I leave Mount Faith," he inhaled and then exhaled rapidly, "it will solve everything. The truth is…" He paused. He couldn't really say what the truth was, could he? A half-truth would be better. "I am the reason that Khaled is pursuing Jessica. If I leave, he leaves with me."
"Why?" Bancroft asked.
Clay looked at the president of the school in his maroon colored robe and his matching slippers. He shouldn't look so commanding, but he did, and though he would dearly love to confide in him, he couldn't.
"He followed me here," Clay said. The grandfather clock's loud ticking in the dining room could be heard in the silence.
Bancroft frowned. "I don't like secrets. I am tired of them. Every single one of my children has been tainted by some mystery or secret surrounding their relationship. I was hoping that Jessica would be different."
Clay nodded.
"Whatever it is that you are doing, Clay Reid, don't you dare let that Khaled guy hurt her."
Clay nodded contemplatively, "I won't."
"Because if he does," Bancroft said, "I am blaming you."
Clay nodded again and then glanced at the piano. "It won't wake up Mrs. B if I play?"
Bancroft shook his head. "No, go ahead. She wasn't sleeping; Jessica was out. Don't think that you were the only one up."
Clay got around the piano and played “Find You”, one of his favorite songs from Khaled's third album. If I knew who you were, I would have found you a long time ago.
When he finished playing the notes, Bancroft looked at him speculatively and got up. He was shaking his head and then he left the living room.
Jessica heard the haunting tune from her room and almost got up to join him. He played it exactly the way that Khaled did. Well, not Khaled, he couldn't play. He played it the same way that it was played on the album.
Chapter Fifteen
Clay was on count down. It was the start of December. He had just three weeks left before exams. He could finish the last three credits he had to do next year with the Mount Faith branch in Kingston.
He had had the crappiest few weeks. David had stepped up his game with Jessica, and Clay had the unenviable experience of seeing the girl he loved fall under the spell of a guy who was not genuine in the least, but he couldn't say a thing.
He still lived in her house though. She had not once suggested that he leave, and her parents seemed quite fine with him there. He stood in the middle of the courtyard at the Business Center, waiting for Ramon; they had a bunch of things to do to finish the project before exams. After that, he could take a breather. He was fast realizing that school and romance were hard to deal with together.
"Hey, man," Adrian Bancroft almost walked past him in the Business Center. He was with his little daughter. They had often visited the house, and he had gotten to know them somewhat, especially the friendly little girl, Avia. She looked so much like a miniature Jessica, with her brown hair and matching brown eyes.
He waved to Adrian and watched as Avia's eyes lit up when she saw him. That was how Jessica's eyes used to light up when she saw him, but these days he was lucky if she gave him a long glance. She was doing a good enough job of pretending that he was not around.
"Hi," Avia waved at him. She had recently lost a tooth, and her endearing gap-toothed smile made him smile as well.
"Hi." He watched as they walked toward the cafeteria and then he decided to take a seat. He was just standing in the middle of the walkway like a lost soul. Eventually, he sat down near the entrance to the Center, near a patch of sun and put his rucksack on the table. He needed to review the papers for the project.
"So you are seeing well enough now, Stevie Wonder?" David's snarky voice asked him.
Clay looked up, squinting a bit. "Yes, no thanks to you. Suppose Stewart had blinded me with that little stunt?"
David sat down. "Keep your voice down."
Clay looked at him balefully. "What's the matter, came to gloat about Jessica?"
David grinned. "She is a really tough lady to bed. Can I tell you how tired I am getting of her and her poetry? I mean I stayed up all night last week Thursday trying to swot Rudyard Kipling's ‘If’ just to impress her. I feel as if I am in school. Why did you have to choose this kind of girl to like? Kara was so much easier."
Clay resisted the urge to react.
"I tell you though," David said, rubbing his hands together. "Tonight is the night."
Clay tapped his fingers on the table; he wanted to ring David's neck. "I am going back to Kingston as soon as this semester is over. I'll do the seventh album."
David nodded. "Neil told me, but I..." he scratched his chin, "I have this urge to conquer Jessica. She's the toughest challenge I have ever had to endure."
Clay got up.
"No wait, sit down," David said, an evil grin on his lips. "I promise. When I finally conquer Jessica, I will not tell you the details like I told you about Kara. I swear."
Clay pushed the papers he had just taken out back into his rucksack; this was all his fault. He should have packed up and left Mount Faith a long time ago.
"She's your Achilles heel," David said, almost salivating, "and I can't resist."
He laughed an evil laugh that had Clay gritting his teeth. "I can't wait to be rid of you," he said, keeping his voice low, "and when I do, it will be a wonderful day for me."
David sobered up. "You shouldn't be complaining, Clay. Things have always been easy for you. You have a nice family—a mother who cares, and a father and uncle who are protective of you—and you have great musical talent. What do I have? Nothing much really, when you think of it. You and your sniveling uncle owe me, and don't you two forget it."
"I owe you nothing," Clay said. "There was a time, a long time ago, when I thought I did, but guess what? I was nearly the same age as you when you walked into our lives, and I became the one who had to sacrifice all my dreams for your ambitions. This is the very last time," Clay said savagely, "and then I want you to leave me alone. Got that! You are toxic. You complain and bellyache over the same thing over and over again. It stops here."
David swallowed. He saw the determined look in Clay's eyes, and suddenly he wished that Clay were still wearing those dark glasses. All the contempt that he had bottled up inside was plain to see.
*****
When Clay reached home in the evening, he was not in the mood for conversation. He saw Celeste in the living room. She was holding her newest grandbaby. Kylie had given birth a few short weeks before to a little boy who looked very much like his father. Kylie was visiting. He could hear her voice in the direction of Jessica's room.
She walked into the hallway and smiled at him. "Hey, Clay."
He nodded to her and saw that Jessica was behind her. She was in a tight red dress and black boots. She looked all dolled up to go out with David, who was bent on seduction tonight. He felt his ears heating up. How could Jessica be so foolish? Couldn't she see through that wolf in sheep's clothing yet?
For weeks, he had been giving her space to see the deception for herself. He expected that she would have come to her senses by now, but here she was, looking like a million dollars and wasting her emotions on a man who wanted to use and discard her just to spite him. He stood where he was in the hallway. Kylie gave him a puzzled smile.
Jessica started to edge pass him and gave him that stealthy, guilty look that she had been giving him for the past couple of weeks. He held out his hand and stopped her. She widened her eyes and looked at him as if she were frightened. What did she have to be afraid of? Her mother was a few feet behind them in the living room, and her sister had stopped and was staring at them curiously.
He tried to keep his voice level because he had a lot of anger pent up. He had a lot he had to say to Jessica Bancroft, but he also had a lot to hide, and his churning emotions made him feel powerless and frustrated. He actually had to take a quivering breath before he stared into her brown eyes.
His heart melted at what he saw: there was
confusion, and desire. She still had a thing for him, but she was hell-bent on living her little teenage dreams with Khaled.
"Why are you going out with him, Jess?" he asked hoarsely. "You still like me."
Jessica swallowed. "Because I want to. He's Khaled."
Clay shook his head. "This hero worship foolishness has gotten out of hand, don't you think?"
"Let me go, Clay," Jessica said, a small tremor in her voice.
Her father walked in as the two women stared at them silently. He also stood at the door silently.
"Ask him to sing for you, Jess," Clay said, releasing her hand. Ask him what the real color of his eyes are," he hissed, "and ask him to kindly return my poetry book that he stole from my apartment. He could at least have had the decency to return it after he used it to snatch you away from me, don't you think?"
Jessica gasped.
Clay sighed and started to walk away, but then turned to look at her again. "When you return, I won't be here. Have a good night."
"Clay," Jessica shook her head, "why won't you tell me why you hate Khaled so much?"
"Ask him," Clay said. "Ask David Green why is it that he tracked me down to Mount Faith, and why he is so interested in you? And whatever you do," he added over his shoulder, "don't sleep with him because I won't be around after that. I won’t even try to understand why."
He walked to his room and closed the door quietly.
Jessica looked around and saw that she had an audience. Standing behind her father were her brothers, Adrian and Taj. Her mother and her sister were looking at her, concerned. She rubbed the hand that Clay had held onto. She wished that the floor could open up and swallow her. Did he have to confront her in front of her family like that? Then she remembered the repressed anger in his voice, and she felt a shiver dance along her spine.
Nobody said a word.
She swallowed nervously and then she heard a horn blow at the gate.
Her father was looking surprisingly calm. "You know, you should invite him to meet your parents. Blowing the horn for a girl at the gate is in such bad taste," he said simply.
Jessica had been ready to protest at whatever it is her parents or her brothers and sister were about to say but they didn't say a word. She wanted to scream, say something! but when their opinion mattered, they were unusually tight lipped. She had sort of expected her father to detain her as she walked on trembling legs toward the door.
Still, nobody commented. Her father opened the door wider for her to pass. Taj gave her a little tap on her shoulder, and Adrian was looking at the road fiercely, then he looked at her and gave her an understanding little nod.
She walked down to the gate and then looked back at the house. They had all come out on the veranda, and like silent statues, were staring at her as she got into the vehicle. She looked at David, barely seeing him as she looked back again, wondering why her once vocal, opinionated family had gotten so silent.
"What's wrong?" David asked, smiling.
"Er...nothing," she was feeling extremely uncomfortable. "Where are we going?"
"I thought we should have a night in tonight," David said, "A romantic dinner for two."
Jessica heard Clays voice in her head. Whatever you do, don't sleep with him because I won't be around after that, I won't even try...
Why didn't somebody stop her? Her usually protective father had held the door open and just let her pass with no comment. She was stewing so much at her family, her father especially, that she didn't even realized that they had reached the Blue Palm Apartment or that David had opened a door and was looking at her with a frown.
"I feel that something is not right with you," he said to her. She was acting as if she was in a trance.
Jessica shook her head. "I don't know. I am coming down with something I think."
David groaned. "I hope not. I wrote this really funny poem for you. Maybe it will cheer you up. It goes, I am acid; you are alkaline, opposites in every way. The test tube is our world; the lab is our universe...
Jessica remembered the first day she met Clay; she had asked him if he was going to do a poem about acids and alkaline in a test tube.
She looked at David as if he had two heads and walked like a zombie into the apartment. He couldn't be that dishonest; he just couldn't.
"When did you write that poem?" she asked.
He was cackling about it so hard that it took him a while to sober up.
"Last week," he said glibly.
Jessica swallowed, "I didn't know that you were interested in science."
"I am," David said, "very interested in scientific things, especially chemistry."
He poured out a glass of wine.
Jessica struggled to read the bottle. He knew she didn't drink alcohol. What was this, his attempt to make her drunk?
"To your chemistry and mine." He handed her a glass and tapped his to hers.
Jessica sniffed it, definitely alcohol. She took a sip and then coughed; the involuntary action made her spew the wine into his face.
He exclaimed. "What the hell!"
"Sorry," Jessica said insincerely. "I am not used to alcohol."
"My contacts." David got up hurriedly.
"Wait," Jessica said. He was cupping one eye.
"Look at me." She demanded.
David looked at her with a frown. "What's the matter?"
His eye was brown! Jessica shook her head and backed away toward the end of the settee. "Nothing. Maybe you should go and replace your contacts."
He nodded. When he got back his eyes were green again and he had changed his green shirt into a black silk one.
Jessica smiled. "That was quick."
David shrugged. "Where were we?"
"You were talking about our chemistry," Jessica reminded him.
"Yes." He nodded, looking doubtfully at her and the glass, as if he expected her to throw more wine into his eyes.
Jessica grinned at him. "I know, why don't you sing for me, like a private concert? You know, all this time you have been quoting poetry for me, so I know that you are a great songwriter. What could be more romantic than a private Khaled concert?"
David grinned. "Why not?" He picked up the remote and turned on his stereo. His first album came on.
"No," Jessica said. "Live, do it for me live. Without music."
"No," David said looking uncomfortable, "I had a slight cold; I won't abuse my voice. I have a seventh album coming up."
He smiled at the romantically laid out table. "Let's eat."
Jessica toyed with the food in her plate, watching him cagily as he smiled at her. Was he all phony? Why didn't he want to sing for her? She knew that he didn't have a cold.
Her discomfort grew the longer dinner went on and then she blurted out the question that was bugging her more than anything else. "Why did you steal Clay's poetry book?"
David slowly and deliberately wiped his mouth. "Jessica, this is ridiculous. Is that what Clay told you? That I stole his book?"
Jessica nodded.
David got up. "You know, Clay has never liked me. He has always been jealous of me, but to go so low as to tell you that I stole his book." He shook his head. "I don't know what to say."
Jessica frowned. "You are the one who's lying, David. That poem about acid and alkaline was a joke between me and Clay the first day we met."
She got up. "I have to go."
David got up as well and held onto her hand. "But the night is not over sweet thing."
Jessica looked at him fiercely. "Let me go! You fake eyed, fake smile, fake poem quoting liar."
David shook her a bit. "Suppose I don't want to let you go. I like you Jessica. I think we have a connection."
"No we don't," Jessica shook her head and looked at him contemptuously. "Clay warned me about you weeks ago, but I decided to give you another chance. My gosh, was I stupid. The thought kept churning in my mind that you were Khaled, my favorite artiste. I got caught up in my stupid dream, but it's only when y
ou started quoting Clay's poems to me that I even started thinking of you differently. I am an imbecile."
David released her hand and snarled, "Maybe you are an imbecile. Who would choose a nobody like Clay over me? I am the famous Khaled." He looked at her with wrath in his eyes. "Get out! Don't expect me to drop you home though. It should be interesting to hear how you reach home in the dark, and in those shoes."
He went to the door and opened it, indicating with his head. "Bon voyage, man teaser."
Jessica went to the door and walked through. David slammed it after her. She jumped at the sound. Her eyes were teary when she stepped out in the walkway and looked out at the very dark night. She couldn't call home now; it would be too embarrassing.
A cough alerted her that she was not alone on the balcony. When she looked behind her, she saw her father and her brothers in the landing leaning up on the railing.
"Ready?" Her father asked.
She nodded numbly.
Chapter Sixteen
Jessica Bancroft hated to eat humble pie, and she was not looking forward to telling Clay that he was right. Khaled was not the person she thought he was; even his eyes weren't real.
Her father locked the front door behind her; he had not said a word of recrimination about her date. He, Taj, and Adrian had not even asked her why her date was so short, or what had really happened, or why she had come out of the apartment tearful and disoriented.
They had discussed cricket instead and then football—the international premier league. She had thought her father would have said something to her after he dropped off each of her brothers, but he didn't.
She headed for Clay's room and knocked. When she got no answer, she turned to her father in a panic. "Don't tell me he really left."
Her father nodded. "He is gone. I tried to convince him to stay but he didn't want to be here when you got back."
"But," tears came to Jessica's eyes. "I am sorry. I am so sorry."
Her father nodded. "I know."
Just To See Her (The Bancrofts: Book 8) Page 12