Coveting Love (Jessica Crawford)

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Coveting Love (Jessica Crawford) Page 5

by Schwimley, Victoria


  “I don’t always eat at restaurants,” she pouted, feigning injury.

  Sarah looked at her in surprise. “You mean you’ve actually learned to cook?”

  Jessica grinned. “Well, actually no, I eat a lot of soup, and Amy cooks for me.”

  Sarah looked accusingly at Amy, who blushed and shrugged her shoulders.

  “So I’m a codependent. I can’t help it. If I didn’t cook for her occasionally, she would starve herself. A woman can’t live on soup alone, you know.”

  Jessica threw her hands up in surrender. “Okay you two. I will learn to cook. What do you want me to do first?”

  “You can start by stirring the sauce, and then you can grate that cheese over there. Amy, if you wouldn’t mind, could you get those dishes down from the shelf? We’ll use the good china tonight.”

  Jessica spun around. “No!” she shouted. “I mean, I don’t think Amy should be climbing up on stools today. She hasn’t been feeling well. I wouldn’t want her to get dizzy or anything. I’ll get the dishes.”

  Amy looked relieved. She mouthed a thank you for coming to her rescue. Sarah stared at both girls for a long time, and then shrugged her shoulders.

  “Well, all right then. Jessie, you can get the dishes down and Amy can prepare the table. You always set such a pretty table.”

  Jessica hoped her mother bought the excuse, but she doubted it. Sarah was an intelligent woman and not easily fooled. She tried to change the subject.

  “What time is this gentleman coming tonight?”

  Sarah had offered to cancel the dinner after Jessica’s firm protest this morning, but Jessica wouldn’t hear of it, claiming it was rude, and stating she was just being foolish. Now that Jessica was used to the idea, she was looking forward to having a guest for dinner.

  “He’s due to arrive at seven and I have dinner planned for eight. This will give us time to relax and have a drink before dinner.”

  “And just enough time for us to take a bath and freshen up before he arrives, right Amy?”

  “Sure, Jess. That sounds nice.”

  They completed their assigned tasks and headed upstairs to get ready for their guest.

  During her bath, Jessica conducted an in-depth argument with herself. She knew what her mother said had some truth to it, recognized in fact, some of the symptoms she spoke of.

  She had been feeling lonely lately, mostly when she came home from work and ate dinner alone. She wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but she didn’t think that finding a husband would solve her problem. Besides, look at the trouble Amy was having, all because of a man. If this was what loving a man was about, then she could do without the hassle.

  It occurred to her that even though she was twenty-seven years old, she had never met anyone with whom she would care to spend the rest of her life. Twenty-seven was still quite young. She hadn’t even had time to live yet. She worked so hard. It seemed she was always on the go. She lacked time for dating.

  Still, something her mother had said weighed heavily on her heart. She didn’t know if it was concern for herself, guilt because she had robbed her mother of any chance to find happiness with a man, or pity for her friend who had found the man she wanted, but was unfortunate to have found someone else’s man.

  She wondered how Amy could have allowed herself to get into this situation, but that didn’t really matter. She would be there for Amy; she would try to help her through this.

  It was six-thirty when Jessica came downstairs to join her mother and Amy. As usual, Amy was beautiful in a long flowing peach gown, which was outlined with lace at the edges of the cap sleeves and along the low cut bodice. Small delicate pearls lay just at the base of her throat. Matching earrings completed her ensemble.

  Jessica looked down at her rather plain lime green gown, ornamented only by the locket she wore around her neck. She felt outdone and inadequate. Even her hair piled loosely on top of her head, in a somewhat seductive style, paled in comparison to Amy’s abundant blonde curls flowing loosely around her shoulders. Then she caught sight of Sarah, who was dressed in a red satin jumpsuit. This woman, who was supposed to be her mother, threw her off guard. Sarah had managed to keep her figure, despite all the good cooking she managed to put out. Jessica shook her head and laughed. She fought back an impulse to run back upstairs and change. To do so now surely would give the impression she cared what this man thought of her.

  She grinned at her. “You look stunning.” She ran her hand down the sleeve, caressing the soft fabric. “I wasn’t aware you owned such an outfit.”

  Sarah blushed, a deep crimson color blooming on her cheeks. “I didn’t until last week. I bought it especially for tonight.”

  Jessica eyed her suspiciously, but before she could comment, the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” she insisted, already moving toward the door. She was surprised to find two very handsome men, dressed in black dinner jackets and ties, standing on the doorstep. She turned and smiled knowingly at her mother. Sarah came to the door, blushing again, to greet her guests.

  Both men were tall, but one was obviously older than the other was. Both had blonde hair, although the older one was beginning to show some gray along his temples—nature’s curse of aging. Both men had blue eyes, a lean build, and a firm, strong jaw that jutted out ever so slightly. There was no doubt these two men were related.

  Immediately, she visualized the men in a clothing ad. She shook off the image, scolding herself for allowing her business mind to take over again.

  Sarah squeezed in between Jessica and the two men. “Jessie, I would like you to meet Grant Jackson and his son, Randy.”

  She was amused at her mother for keeping this second visitor a secret. She would have to steal away and set another place setting. She wondered about Mrs. Jackson and hoped there wasn’t one.

  She held her hand out to welcome both of them, inviting them to come in and take a seat. It wasn’t hard to miss the show of pleasure on Randy’s face when he was introduced to Amy. Jessica sighed. Oh well, Mother, struck out again. She thought to herself.

  Over drinks, Jessica learned that Grant Jackson’s wife had been killed several years ago in a boating accident, while they were vacationing, leaving Grant to care for their son, Randy.

  How ironic it was that her mother’s situation was so similar to his. She wondered if Mr. Jackson felt the same way about being alone as Sarah did. Her guess was he did, or he wouldn’t be here tonight.

  She also learned that Randy had graduated at the top of his class and held a Master’s degree in Business. He was only here for a short while to help his father get his business started. He would then be returning to his job in California—from which he had taken a leave of absence.

  This man would make a very good catch, but not for her. Somehow, he just didn’t seem to draw her attention. There was no spark in their meeting, not an instant desire or feeling that “this is the one.” He just didn’t do it for her.

  She glanced at Amy and wanted to laugh at her expression. Apparently, someone in this room was the accelerant for this man’s fire. She couldn’t help but miss the fact that since their arrival, Amy couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Randy. One glance at Randy confirmed the interest was reciprocated. One look at her mother confirmed she had noticed, too. She hoped she wasn’t angry, and hoped equally as well that Amy knew what she was doing. Amy was in a delicate state of mind at this time in her life. Jessica felt sure she was acting out of fear rather than true feelings.

  Sarah seemed equally enchanted with Grant. No one noticed when Jessica slid out of the room to make herself a cup of tea.

  She was standing by the sink with her back to it when her mother, laughing, came into the kitchen. She stopped when she saw her.

  “I’m sorry, dear. Are we ignoring you?”

  “No. It’s all right. I’m just a little tired. I didn’t think anyone would mind if I stepped away for a few minutes.”

  “Randy seems a bit smitten with Amy,” S
arah declared, slight disappointment revealed in her features.

  “Yes, I noticed. That’s all right. I don’t mind. To tell you the truth,” she said, wrinkling her nose, “he doesn’t quite interest me. He seems nice enough, but I’m afraid he just doesn’t make my heart go pitter-patter.”

  She played with the tea bag hanging over the side of her cup, squeezed it gently with her spoon and lifted it out. She sipped the tea, careful not to burn herself. She looked thoughtful.

  “I think I have this fantasy idea of what love is all about. I expect my prince to come and sweep me off my feet. Like he did in the stories that Dad used to read to me.”

  Sarah brushed a loose strand of hair from Jessica’s forehead. “Do you think of him often?”

  Jessica frowned, “I don’t think of him often. In fact, I hardly think of him at all, and although he does pop into my mind on occasion, his leaving seems like a lifetime ago. I’m trying hard to forgive him, but it’s difficult. I feel so angry with him. It’s not as if he died or something. He went away by choice. How can a man choose not to watch his little girl grow up?” Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and she wiped at them, smearing a little makeup. Sarah picked up a napkin and dabbed at them.

  “Life is a lot easier to bear if we can bury our grudges. Hatred makes you hard and miserable. Keep working on the forgiveness. In the meantime, come and help me get dinner on the table.”

  Randy entered the dining room with Amy attached to his arm. Jessica watched her throw back her head and laugh softly at something he said. He beamed at her reaction to his good humor. Jessica shook her head. Leave it to Amy to make the best of a tragic situation. Oh well, let her have her fun. Soon they would be returning home, and Randy would be thousands of miles away, in California.

  Dinner was, as usual, exceptional. After dinner, they adjourned to the living room for coffee. Leave it to Mother to know jut the way to hook a man, Jessica thought, grinning. She came up with a plan to give her mother some time alone with her new friend.

  “Amy, why don’t you and I take Randy out for some fun? I’m sure he hasn’t had much of a chance to get out since he has been here. Have you, Randy?”

  He shook his head.

  Amy followed Jessica’s glance toward her mother and smiled. She shook her head teasingly at Jessica. Funny, just this morning Jessica was lecturing Sarah about matchmaking, and here she was doing it herself. Even so, she agreed to go along with it. After all, if anyone deserved a second chance at love, it was Sarah Crawford. Especially, after all she had been through in her life.

  **********

  CHAPTER 3

  The Sojourn was a noisy establishment, and Jessica had to shout to be heard. She knew the owner personally, having grown up with him. Tim waved to her from across the room. She returned his wave. It was, much as the name implied, a pleasant place to come and hang out with friends. Tim had been insistent on the name. He said he wanted people to feel like they were home; it worked.

  Most of the patrons were regulars and stopped in here on their way home, just to say hi to a couple of friends. There was even a back room for private parties.

  Tim had purchased the bar right after college. Then he converted it to more of a social hall when people in the area started becoming more health conscious, and began drinking less—although some people still did a major job of drowning their sorrows with liquor. There was a state of the art sound system—great for dancing, and a coffee bar claimed one whole corner of the room.

  “Why don’t we find our way to the back and see if it’s a little quieter,” Jessica suggested. Amy could barely hear what she was saying, but she did make out the word quieter and eagerly followed her to the back of the room.

  She greeted several familiar faces, stopping to shake a hand, or give a quick hug, before finally making it to their destination. It was somewhat less noisy back here, and they didn’t have to shout over the music.

  The discussion centered mostly on each other’s work. Jessica was interested to hear about Randy’s successful business career. Amy showed an unnatural interest, and Jessica nudged her more than once.

  Randy was a top executive in a major corporation on the West Coast. Both the girls were impressed that he had moved up the ladder so easily at the young age of thirty-five. He laughed when Jessica expressed this to him.

  “I would hardly say it was easy. I started at the bottom. I worked part-time for the company as an errand boy while I was still in school. Gradually, I moved into the mail room. They eventually gave me more responsibility, and ultimately, I moved into a position as an assistant to the vice-president, where I once again ran errands.

  “Persistence paid off, and thanks to Mr. Jacobson, who was about the only one who would listen to my ideas, I was classified as a consultant. As more and more of my ideas panned out, they put me in charge of a few small projects. Eventually, they gave me my own office and even my own secretary. Then one day, after years of grueling work and long, hard hours, I moved into an executive position on the board of directors. It was an eventful day for me, one that made my father proud.”

  He glanced over at Amy. “I sacrificed quite a bit during those years. But now I can slow down a bit and take a little time for the finer things in life, which I seemed to have missed out on before.” His intention was clear and Amy blushed. “Perhaps you will allow me to begin right now?” He rose, and extending his hand to Amy, invited her to dance.

  Jessica watched them approach the dance floor with a stab of jealousy. What had been meant for her was turning out so well for Amy. What a ridiculous way to feel. She had no more interest in Randy romantically than she did in the man sitting at the table next to her. She sat there wallowing in self-pity.

  “Do you mind if I sit here? You look lonely.”

  Jessica glanced up into the most capturing face she had ever seen. She glanced around, as if not really believing this man was talking to her, and yes, here were the sparks. They could not be mistaken. She couldn’t have experienced any more electricity if she had stuck her fingers in a light socket. Every nerve in her body screamed, her tongue wouldn’t work, and her lips could only mumble. She only stared back at him. He obviously was used to this kind of reaction when meeting the opposite gender, because he laughed.

  “Yes, I am talking to you.”

  Jessica, finally managing to find her tongue, muttered, “Sorry, I was just looking for a dragon.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Never mind.” She waved him off. “It’s a family joke.”

  Standing above her, was a man with eyes the color of chestnuts, hair the color of straw, and a body so lean and tall, that Jessica had to strain her neck to see the top of his head. He was strong looking and had a rugged, cowboy look to him; yet, he appeared sophisticated at the same time. His skin was tanned from the sun. His voice was deep and authoritative. He was every bit masculine, and Jessica’s heart melted. It seemed an eternity before she could catch her breath.

  “Your eyes are an interesting color,” she finally managed to say.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “It was meant to be.”

  “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

  “Well, actually, I am here with my friends.” She gestured toward the dance floor. Neither Amy, nor Randy, appeared to be in the least bit of a hurry to return to the table. Jessica blushed.

  “He was supposed to be my escort for the evening,” she said, frowning.

  “I see,” he chuckled. “Well, his loss is my gain. Nevertheless, it doesn’t look as if your friends will be returning too soon. Is it okay if I keep you company for a while?”

  She hesitated for all of two seconds. As tall and handsome as he was, she would be nuts not to encourage his pursuit. Besides, she was lonely and felt like an idiot sitting there all alone. Throwing caution aside, she motioned for him to take a seat beside her.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” he offered.

  “Thank you. I’ll have a glass of
white wine. Tim serves an excellent house wine.”

  He motioned for the server, and to Jessica’s surprise, he ordered two white wines.

  “You’re a wine drinker?” I thought men usually drank something a little more,” she paused, pondering the right word, “rugged,” she finally settled on.

  This statement brought a burst of laughter from the man.

  “You mean something like, I’ll have a beer? No, thanks. I suppose some men do like the “harsher” stuff, but I prefer things that are soft and gentle.”

  He smiled suggestively at her. She blushed at his open flirtation. She didn’t consider herself a beautiful woman, but she knew she was attractive. Suddenly she wished her height were a little taller than her five-foot-five inches, and her waist a little narrower than its twenty-two inches. She had always hated her hair. She wished its dirty brown look could have a little more gold in it. It was a strange color, not brown, but not blonde, either. All throughout her teenaged years, her mother had told her she was beautiful, and she was lucky to have such a unique hair color. Several people had commented on it, but she felt it was more out of curiosity and less out of admiration.

  “My name is Brandon Phillips,” the stranger stated, extending his hand in greeting.

  She smiled at him, offering hers in return. He had a firm grip. “I’m Jessica, but most of my friends call me Jessie.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Jessie. It’s a lovely name.” Her face reddened. “Do you live around here? Or are you just visiting?”

  “Actually, right now I’m visiting. My mother and I grew up here. I went to school with Tim, he’s the owner, and probably half the patrons in this fine establishment.” He laughed and Jessica realized the oddity of what she had said. “What I meant is; I grew up here with my mother. Now I live in the city. I’m visiting her for the weekend. What about you?”

  “I’m here on business.”

  It was her turn to laugh. “What on earth kind of business would bring you to this hole-in-the-wall town?”

 

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