Coveting Love (Jessica Crawford) (19 page)

The taxi driver broke into her thoughts, informing her they were at the airport. She thanked him and pulled some bills out of her wallet to pay him. Brandon was waiting for her as she emerged from the cab.

“
I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was worse than I had expected, and the taxi was late.”

Brandon glanced over at the driver, who shrugged nonchalantly and drove off. “It doesn’t matter. Come on. If we hurry, we can still catch a quick bite to eat. The others have already started.”

They hurried to check in her baggage and then ran to find the others. They weren’t hard to locate; you could hear them from outside the restaurant. Jessie frowned and looked at Brandon.

“
They’ve been warned twice that they’ll be thrown out if they don’t quiet down.”

She nodded. “Perhaps I can talk some sense into them.”

She hurried to the table. They all stood and cheered. She raised her hands into the air, and then pushed them down, as if she were trying to lower something. They immediately fell silent.

“
Listen, guys. Do you want to make this trip or not?”

Another round of cheers followed. Jessica glanced nervously toward the restaurant’s Maitre’ de and gritted her teeth. She repeated the hand gestures, silencing the crowd again.

“
Now look, guys. I know there are a lot of us here this morning, and we still have almost an hour left before we board the plane. If you want to remain in the restaurant, you will have to keep your voices down, okay?”

Silently they all nodded their heads, with the exception of one of the models, and one of the set directors, who seemed to be so wrapped up in each other’s arms they weren’t paying attention, anyway.

“
Brandon and I will be over there eating our breakfast. Can I trust you all to be quiet?”

They all began to cheer again but caught themselves in time. Instead, they assured Jessica they could be quiet. One glance at the Maitre’ de, however, clearly instilled some doubt. She didn’t really care what he thought.

“
Give him a good tip,” she whispered to Brandon as they took their seats. He smiled and gave a slight chuckle.

As she and Brandon sat down, she looked into his handsome face, seeing admiration in it.

“
What?” she asked.

“
I was just thinking about how little credit you give yourself. Just the other day you pitied yourself for needing to depend on someone else. Today, you quieted a whole crew of excited workers when both the Maitre’ de and I failed. That is amazing. You have a natural ability for organizing, and inspiring. I admire that.”

“
Thank you. I accept the compliment.”

She picked up her menu, put it back down again; she was too excited to eat. She settled for coffee and a muffin. Brandon seemed unusually quiet this morning. This worried her.

“
You haven’t changed your mind about this trip, have you?”

He looked surprised. “No. Why would you ask that?”

“
Because you seem so quiet, as if something is bothering you. I thought you might have changed your mind about having those animals in your home.” She gestured lightheartedly at the table across the way.

He laughed lightly. “I know they’re excited. Once we’re there, they’ll quiet down.” He patted her hand gently. “I just have a few things on my mind, some problems I need to work out with myself.”

“
Are you thinking about Phillip Stewart?” she asked cautiously.

“
No. It’s not him, and I don’t want you thinking of him either. He’s off the agenda for now and best left there. He won’t be bothering us anytime soon; I assure you.”

“
Then I’d like to toast to a successful, eventful, and fun-filled week,” she said

He raised his cup, laughing. “I’ve never toasted with coffee. Does it work the same way? I mean it isn’t bad luck or anything, is it?”

“
Who knows!” she exclaimed, shrugging her shoulders. “I suppose we’ll find out soon enough, but for now, we better catch that flight.”

By the time they landed, the airport was buzzing with commuters. Jessica watched as men and women in business suits ran frantically to catch planes. Women with babies in one arm, and independent children pulling stubbornly on the other arm, in a desperate attempt to free themselves from their mother’s firm grip, surrounded her. Twice she lost touch with Brandon, but he managed to find her quickly.

“
It’s a real rat race, isn’t it?” he asked, clasping firmly onto her hand.

She nodded. “Not as busy as Kennedy, though.”

“
True.”

He led her to the front of the airport, where they joined the rest of their party.

“
What about our luggage?” she asked, as Brandon pushed her through the heavy, glass, double doors.

“
I’ve arranged for it all to be picked up. You don’t need to worry about that.”

She smiled in appreciation. “I should have known.”

“
Jessica Crawford, please hurry up. You just have to quit this dallying of yours; it’s wasting so much of our time,” John scolded.

She apologized as someone shoved her into a waiting limousine, squeezing her firmly between Amy and Brandon.

“
Isn’t this exciting?” Amy exclaimed, giving her arm a firm squeeze. “Just think, not too much longer and I will be living here, well okay, not exactly here, but in California. Isn’t the weather gorgeous?”

“
It’s cold in San Francisco,” Jessica said, pouting.

Amy looked over at Jessica’s frowning face. “I’m sorry. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything,” she said, patting her hand in consolation.

“
It’s okay. I suppose I have to face the fact sooner or later.”

She laid her head back against the rich upholstery, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep. It was some time before they jolted to a halt. She woke and rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes. Pressure eased from her one side as Brandon stepped out of the car to speak with the other drivers. Suddenly aware that the car had stopped, Jessica bolted upright, but was disappointed when all she could see were trees.

Amy stirred beside her and sat up. She glanced around.

“
Are we here?” she asked, somewhat confused.

“
I’m not sure. I thought for sure we were, but as you can see all that’s around here are trees.”

Moments later, Brandon returned to the car. He slid back into his place beside Jessica. He smiled at her and squeezed her hand.

“
It’s just a little bit farther, ladies.”

The car began to move again. They had traveled some two hundred yards when the driver stopped and pushed a button built into the dashboard. Jessica watched as the gate magically opened.

“
Just one of the small conveniences I had installed after my father died. I was tired of having to tug the heavy iron of the old gate, so I had this electronic one installed instead.” He smiled proudly as if he had personally designed the gate.

“
How much farther is it, Brandon?” Amy asked, trying to work out the knot that had stiffened her neck.

“
It’s about two more miles on the other side of the gate. You should see the house anytime now.”

What Jessica saw ahead of her, was no house by her standards. What loomed in front of her eyes was a mansion. She was speechless as the car came to a stop in front of the massive building. Brandon extended his hand to her, offering assistance from the car. Then he went to the other side and helped Amy out of the car. The two women stood beside the car, wide eyed with wonder, and speechless. Finally, they slowly turned to face Brandon.

“
You own this?” Jessica asked in astonishment.

He grinned down at her. “Do you like it?”

“
Like it!” she exclaimed. “It’s magnificent!” She shook her head in disbelief. “I never dreamed anything could be this beautiful.”

The house, or mansion by ordinary standards, was four stories high and housed twenty bedrooms. Behind the main house was a smaller guesthouse. The land spread for miles on either side of the house, with trails leading up to the hills. She could barely make out the lake, but would later be awed at the size of it close up.

Taking her arm, Brandon led her to the front door. “Come on in; I’ll show you around,” he said.

The interior of the house, exquisitely furnished in the finest furniture and art ever imaginable, was just as breathtaking, Brandon shared that his father had been an art collector and had been known to travel around the world for a single painting. Jessica stood in front of an amazing landscape vivid with bright roses. They looked so real that she wanted to reach out and smell them. Brandon stood beside her and pointed to the painting.

“
My mother painted that one.”

“
You didn’t tell me your mother was an artist.”

“
She won’t admit to it. You won’t find any of her paintings anywhere but at home. She doesn’t think they’re good enough.”

“
Pity,” Jessica replied.

“
Ditto,” Amy agreed.

The stairway was made of mahogany. Marble lined the lower part of the walls and ascended the staircase. Jessica touched the cold marble and felt a shiver run through her.

“
It’s not much for warmth,” she said, to no one in particular.

On the second landing were portraits of all the family. Hanging in the center of them all was Brandon’s father, the great baron of the land.

“
He’ll never leave this spot,” Brandon informed them. “He built this empire. He will always be considered head of the family.”

Off to the right side of his father, was a portrait of a nice looking young man who somewhat resembled Brandon.

“
Who is that?” John asked.

A cold looked crossed Brandon’s face.

“
It’s my brother, Jeffrey.” Familial affection was missing from the statement.

Jessica remembered Brandon talking about Jeffrey on the first night they had stayed together. He hadn’t talked nicely about him then, either.

To the left of his father’s portrait hung his mother’s. She was beautiful. It was evident the two sons got their looks from their mother’s genes.

Their brother’s portrait hung directly below these portraits. Jessica remembered his name was Matthew. He wasn’t as good looking as the other two sons were, but had a pleasant enough face, nonetheless. Above his father’s portrait hung Brandon’s. Next to Brandon’s portrait, hung the portrait of a pretty, young woman with jet-black hair that hung below her shoulders, framing her face in a most flattering style. Her eyes were the color of emeralds, the pupils barely visible in her trance like stare. They made Jessica shiver with uneasiness.

She studied all the portraits carefully, but she couldn’t find a resemblance to any of the ancestor’s portraits that hung farther down the wall. She inquired about her identity, but Brandon shrugged her off, stating she was a family member who was no longer living. Noting the pained expression on his face, she decided not to pursue the matter. Still, the woman’s face bothered her.

They continued their journey down the wall of ancestors. She caught Amy’s eye as she stopped in front of the dark beauty. “Spooky,” Amy mouthed. Jessica nodded in agreement.

She asked about the other portraits, listening with genuine interest as Brandon explained who the various aunts, uncles, cousins, and other distant relatives were. Many of them he had never met, but in every portrait, he knew whose face looked back at the artist.

“
My father had a strong sense of family value. He insisted that all family members, living or otherwise, should have paintings hung in a place of honor. He was adamant I memorize each name, and insisted I know whose face it belonged to.”

“
Why?” Amy couldn’t help but ask.

Brandon stared at her, abashed. “Family ties, of course. My father felt nothing was more important than blood.”

They all stared at her with an “of course” expression on their faces.

Amy blushed, and shrank. “Sorry,” she said, not understanding what the big deal was.

“
Anyway,” Brandon continued. “It’s a tradition he started. He asked that I continue it.”

“
And will you?” Jessica asked.

He thought for a moment. “I suppose I will. It’s the least I can do for my father, considering all he did to ensure my future. Jessica, would you mind waiting here while I see our guest to their rooms. I’ll be right back for you.”

She shrugged. “Sure. I’ll wait.”

After he had left, Jessica began to scan each of the portraits again. Her eyes rested once again on the woman who took her place next to Brandon. She wondered if this might be a sister. He had not spoken of any sisters, but he had seemed rather saddened by the mention of her. Perhaps she had died a tragic death, and it was painful for him to think about it.

No matter how many times she walked away from the portrait, she kept returning to it, as if it willed her to it. She reached her hand up slowly, deliberately running her fingers along the stunning features, coming to rest upon her eyes.

“
Quite stunning, aren’t they?”

She spun round, coming face-to-face with an older Hispanic woman. She had a pleasant looking face, and eyes that seemed to dance with mischief. They had a welcoming look to them.