A Past Refrain

by Brenda Barrett

  Abigail raised her eyebrows. "That's not on the menu."

  "I know," Jayce shrugged. "I just wondered, you know, if you would like to do something else."

  Abigail stood with the notepad awkwardly. She had come in late today. She had overslept and was feeling sluggish. The restaurant manager, Kirk, warned her that if it happened again she would be fired.

  One infraction and he was ready to kick her out. Easy hire, easy fire, she had thought snidely. Not for the first time she wished that she had a different job. The pittance that she made as a waitress was not going to help her on her quest to be independent again, and here was Jayce asking her if she wanted to do something else.

  She cautiously answered, "Sure I would. Now can I take your order?"

  Jayce smiled. "I am looking for a secretary. Have you ever done any secretarial work?"

  Abigail nodded slowly. "As a matter of fact I have."

  Jayce took out a business card from his shirt pocket. "If you are interested in working for me, give me a call. You have to call before next week, though. I have a deadline to fill the position."

  She reluctantly took the card and pushed it into her jeans pocket. She shouldn't even be entertaining working for anybody who would want to know her work history.

  When Jayce and Xavier gave her their orders and she walked away, Jayce watched her round, perfect, pert bottom and swaying hips. "I like her."

  "I can see that," Xavier said mockingly. "She seems familiar."

  "How?" Jayce asked.

  "I don't know," Xavier said. "Maybe I met her some place before or saw her on television."

  "On a model show?" Jayce asked, chuckling.

  "I don't know; can't recall watching any of those but yes, she is pretty," Xavier said, pointing to the monitor. "Let's take a look at this again. I guess after we sort this out I will be a more reasonable man to live with. Farrah claims I have gone manic."

  Jayce chuckled. "How is Farrah these days?"

  "She's stressing me out for a baby, because she wants our kid to be in the same age group as Alka, Alice and Ruby's. She has this grand plan that the New Song band could be extended to the next generation, with all of our children forming another band."

  Jayce grinned. "That actually sounds like a good plan, and you don't seem stressed out."

  Xavier smiled. "I am not really, it's just that I wouldn't mind having one more year with just us. No babies."

  "Ah, how sweet," Jayce said. "Do you realize that out of all of us guys, I am the only unmarried, lonely one? The only single, pathetic one."

  Jayce cupped his chin. "Am I being punished for something? I mean, I am thirty-four. I am finally in shape. I sing in a band; I play the guitar and piano and drums. I am the only one of the six of us guys who can play all instruments, and I write poems. I am creative and sensitive. I earn a decent living working in a successful company."

  Xavier chuckled. "You really sound good. It's a pity you are the one who is saying it and not that waitress."

  "Abigail, her name is Abigail," Jayce cleared his throat. "I asked her out. Maybe I wasn't as polished as I could have been, so she turned me down."

  "She likes you," Xavier said.

  "You think so?" Jayce asked excitedly. "How can you tell?"

  Xavier scratched his chin. "Let's see. There are certain nonverbal gestures that gave her away the minute she stood here, like her eyes kept straying to you and she gazed at you with a hunger that was palpable, like she wanted to touch you and was restraining herself."

  "She did?" Jayce growled, "Are you playing with me?"

  "Nope," Xavier said, his face was serious. "I was shocked at the wealth of feeling firing from her eyes."

  Jayce smiled. "You are actually saying this with a straight face?"

  Xavier nodded. "Of course. Now it's up to you to leverage this information and pursue her with the kind of single-minded determination you pursued Haley in the past. Remember how you used to write her poems and have us put music to them? Boy, you were sappy."

  Jayce sighed. "I thought about her today."

  Xavier quirked his brow. "Really? You still think of Haley Greenwald? Forget I said that. I was still thinking about Farrah when I left Jamaica. For me it was almost every day, until gradually it became less intense. I wonder where Haley is now..."

  He stopped speaking as Abigail approached. She had a tray in her hand and she deftly took off the food.

  "Bon appetit," she said cheerfully.

  "Thanks," Jayce said. Before she could turn away, he asked impulsively, "Have supper with me this evening. I'll pick you up here after work."

  She spun around, her mouth opened slightly. "Jayce..."

  "You can't embarrass him in front of company," Xavier said quickly. "It would crush his spirit. The guy almost died; cut him some slack."

  Abigail looked at him so long that Jayce almost wanted to squirm.

  "Okay," she finally said. "I get off at six tonight."

  Jayce nodded jerkily, trying to look casual, but inside he was singing.

  Xavier closed the laptop. "I will take this up with you tomorrow. I have a feeling that you will be useless after this."

  Jayce was still staring at the space that Abigail had occupied with a look of astonishment on his face.

  "Did you hear that, Xavier?" he asked, whispering.

  "Yes," Xavier chuckled. "The girl said yes. Supper, though? Who asks a girl for supper? You sound thoroughly old fashioned; the miracle is that she doesn't seem to mind it."

  Chapter Five

  "So here we are," Jayce said, feeling a little bit awkward since Abigail entered the car. He had picked her up after the restaurant closed and had driven to his house. He couldn't think of anywhere else to go, and he had asked her to supper. He figured that a restaurant was out of the question because after spending all day in one it would just feel like an extension of her job.

  His unpainted house loomed in the car lights. He had bought the house on a whim two months ago. It was on the same street as Logan and Melody's and had been a fixer-upper. He had thought that he could help with the renovations but his contractor had told him bluntly that he was in the way. It was recently finished; the men had not yet removed the debris from the front of the large lot, nor had they finished painting the outside of the place.

  "Is this where you live?" Abby asked him. "I must confess I saw you as more of an apartment dweller, with a cat."

  Jayce got out of the car and opened her door. "I lived in an apartment but after I got shot I stayed with my friends Melody and Logan and the owner of this house was selling, so one morning while walking by I had an epiphany: why not live in a house and plant a garden? I'll get a cat eventually. How'd you know I was a cat person?"

  Abigail cleared her throat. "I didn't. This is a nice neighborhood, and the house is gorgeous. Wow."

  "Thanks," Jayce said ruefully. "I hounded my friend, Ian, to design it for me, or should I say redesign and update it? As usual he did an excellent job."

  He opened the heavy front door. "Sorry about the echo. I have not gotten around to buying furniture and all of those homely things. It was just recently finished. I started living here just two weeks ago, actually."

  Abigail was looking around. "It's really nice. I love these ceilings…gives the place a cathedral-like air."

  Jayce looked pleased. "It has four bedrooms and an equal amount of bathrooms. I even have a pool. It's not yet filled with water, though. Maybe when it is full you can come over and have a swim?"

  Abigail swung around and looked at him. "Jayce..."

  "Moving too fast?" he asked contritely. "Sorry." He headed for the kitchen. "This is the only place in the house that is thoroughly furnished and finished. No paint fumes either."

  She followed behind him slowly. "I like the forest green accents. You even have a forest green kettle. That's a lovely color."

  Jayce frowned. "I don't think I consciously chose the color. This might sound odd but I had a girlfriend once that
loved the color and since then I have loved it too."

  Abigail stilled. "Really? What's her name, this girlfriend?"

  Jayce grinned slightly. "No, no, no," he shook his head, "I am not going to be that guy. The one that talks about another woman while he is with somebody else."

  He grimaced, "I learned my lesson a long time ago—that is bad dating etiquette."

  Abigail smiled. "So is this a date?"

  "Well..." Jayce scratched his chin. "Is it?"

  Abigail drummed her fingers on the granite counter top. "I was thinking it was more of a casual interview. I thought about what you said today and I would really like a change of jobs."

  Jayce felt disappointed. He had wanted her to be here because she wanted to hang out with him and get to know him better but then again, working with her every day would be advantageous to him. He would definitely get to know her better.

  He opened the fridge. "What would you like to eat? I make the best sandwiches."

  Abby shook her head. "I am not in the mood for sandwiches, I feel like having some cornmeal porridge like my grandma used to make it, with lots of cinnamon and pimento leaf..." She licked her lips.

  "I can do that." Jayce stared at her moist, dark pink lips and then grinned at her. "I haven't had that in ages…since high school, actually. I never really had the taste for it after..."

  He looked at her with a bemused expression on his face. "You know, when my ex-girlfriend, no...sorry," he stuttered. "Forget it."

  Abby was staring at him, transfixed, as if she was waiting to hear what he had to say. She broke the tension by looking away to a big black and white picture that he had taken with the band from high school days.

  "So that's your band?" She pointed to the picture.

  "Yup," Jayce said, gathering the fixings for the porridge. "We were so young and idealistic then. That picture was taken after a church concert. We were fund raising for something or the other."

  Abby got up and moved closer to the picture and whispered, "1995."

  When he turned around, he saw her touching it almost reverently.

  "How'd you guess that?" Jayce came over to stand beside her. He was so much taller than her that her head reached him at his chin. She could smell his cologne. She inhaled and closed her eyes. He smelled just right, musky and slightly minty.

  "Seriously," Jayce said over her head, squinting at the picture to see if a date was on it.

  Abby snapped out of her dazed inhalation and shrugged. "Lucky guess?"

  She moved away from him and tried to avoid his eyes.

  Jayce inclined his head to one side and then frowned. "Tell me about you, Abby. Where are you from? Where have you worked before? Where did you go to school?"

  Abby sat down on the stool and sighed. "So the interview has started?"

  Jayce went over to the stove and started stirring the pot. "Yes, if you want to call it that. You have really piqued my curiosity."

  Abby stared at her reflection in the countertop. "I was born on February 1. My parents are dead to me. I am an orphan, no near family members to speak of. I am from Kingston. I have worked in companies before and I have done secretarial work."

  "School?" she heard Jayce ask above her and she jerked up and looked at him guiltily. "I work in security," Jayce said gently. "I know when someone is lying. You are not very good at it."

  She closed her eyes. "I can't tell you about my past, Jayce. I can't tell anyone."

  Jayce stared at her for the longest while. "If you want to work for me, you have to get a level two clearance. There is a thorough background check done on you by our company. It is standard company policy; we deal with sensitive information for some large companies, so we usually check if you have loans, a criminal record, unpaid bills—that sort of thing."

  Abby swallowed. "I don't have any of those things but how can you find out all of that?"

  "Easy," Jayce grinned. "My dad has contacts that even law enforcement doesn't have access to. With technology the world is much smaller than you think."

  "So if level two is so intense, what does level three clearance entail?" Abby asked hoarsely.

  Jayce turned off the stove. "Level three is deeply personal. We check out even your close family—that kind of thing. Fact is, some companies request us to do that for them, especially before hiring top executives."

  He shrugged. "We'd check if you have lovers, how many, a drug habit, mental issues, what you say on the Internet—the whole gamut. Privacy is just a by-word these days. That's why it's always best to be honest in your dealings—saves a lot of time and energy."

  Abby gasped. "Wow."

  "Yes, wow." Jayce grinned. "This is where you volunteer to tell me all."

  Abby drummed her fingers on the table, only breathing a sigh of relief when Jayce turned back to the stove. She couldn't stand his intense scrutiny.

  *****

  After Jayce laid out bamboo placemats around the nook and they were eating, Abby said tentatively, "This is good."

  Jayce nodded. "It is. I am surprised that I actually remember how to cook it. This is comfort food. Only thing missing is the rain."

  Abigail grinned. "Yup, and raisins. Do you have any?"

  Jayce held his spoon midway. "You eat raisins with your porridge too?"

  "Yes," Abigail said, and then hastily added, "but if you don't have any, that's fine. I mean, it's not like I eat raisins with my porridge all the time; lots of people do it...why on earth do you look so shocked?"

  Jayce looked at her contemplatively. "I have raisins." He got up, got a box from the fridge, and handed it to her.

  "I am not shocked. I am sorry for acting so strange," he said heavily. "I had a girlfriend in high school, the same one I have been trying to avoid talking about…I know it's long ago and this is going to sound funny, but you are the only woman I have really liked since then and she liked raisins in her porridge too. It's like a sign."

  "You haven't liked anyone since high school?" Abigail looked at him skeptically. "Are you serious?"

  She poured out the raisins on top of the porridge and Jayce watched as she scooped a spoonful into her mouth. The seemingly innocent gesture was alarmingly a turn on.

  He scrambled to speak. "Yes. Well, technically I was in college. Unfortunately, I am severely picky where women are concerned. I candidly confess that I actually thought I was asexual or something until I met Haley when I was sixteen...and now there's you."

  He laughed deprecatingly, "I actually went to the doctor for it. I thought I had some kind of condition. My friends tried to set me up but I am so picky that I frustrated them. Once or twice, I have made an effort to see a few ladies in my church, you know, but there is always something with them. Last person was Leona," he shuddered. "She used to cook elaborate meals for me; that was a turn-off."

  Abigail gazed at him with her mouth slightly opened.

  "I know. I know, it sounds absurd," Jayce said. "The doctor referred me to a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist said that I am severely distrustful toward women and that could be coloring my views in any new relationships. The thing is, I haven't been motivated to have any relationships, so really I couldn't be distrustful toward women as he said. I hope I am not making you uncomfortable?"

  Abigail cleared her throat. "No. No. I just…I have never met a guy like you before. You have only had one girlfriend since high school. And you are what age now, thirty-something?"

  "Thirty-four, my birthday was yesterday," Jayce said uneasily. "How old are you?"

  Abigail toyed with her spoon. "Don't you know you shouldn't ask a girl her age just like that? You should wait until the second date."

  Jayce laughed, "Really? Let me guess then—twenty-six."

  Abigail grinned. "That's flattering."

  "I'll have to know if you are to come and work for me," Jayce said, pushing away his bowl. "It would be on your resume."

  Abigail looked at him keenly. "So I guess that's it then. I can get the job?"

  "
I could convince my father not to investigate your background. I could vouch for you, but he might not say yes since he trusts no one," Jayce offered. "In the meantime, you can tell me your secret. Be honest with me."

  "I am..." Abby inhaled and pushed her half-empty bowl away. It made a clink as it touched Jayce's.

  " I...ah..." A look of pleading filled her eyes. "Please, Jayce, I can't really say why I..."

  Jayce watched as she muddled her way through the speech and then abruptly stopped talking.

  "Did you commit a crime?" he asked gently. That was the worst thing he could think of. He could not hire her if she had a record, not as a secretary with access to all sorts of information.

  She looked at him shocked. "No!"

  "Okay, okay," he said relieved. "You can tell me in your own time."

  He never trusted people like this—it was a leftover from the day his mother had looked him in the eyes and told him that she would be back for him but never returned. However, here he was, taking Abigail's word that she wasn't a criminal. Her vehement no, and the earnestness in her eyes did it for him.

  Her past was so bad she couldn't tell him and like a besotted fool he didn't care. He wanted her to work with him. He wanted to see her every day. He wanted to smell her subtle perfume and watch as her brown eyes lightened up with laughter or turned liquid with soulful pleading.

  He was a goner. The General would castigate him for this in the future, he was sure of it, but he was going to hire Abigail. He suddenly realized that he didn't know her last name.

  What's your surname? he asked, aghast at his own omission.

  "Petri," Abigail answered slowly. "Does this mean that I can get the job?"

  Jayce nodded. "I'll need your resume. I can't bypass that."

  Abigail nodded.

  "Be honest on it; do not falsify important details," Jayce said, a warning tone in his voice.

  "I will." Abigail nodded vigorously. "Definitely."

  Chapter Six

  Two weeks later Jayce was not so sure that hiring Abby was the best thing. She was extremely efficient, impressing even his father, but she was keeping him even further away than she did when she worked at the restaurant. He would crack a joke and she would laugh politely. He would ask her out but she would take her lunch or dinner or whatever she had to eat and then she would turn her pretty doe eyes on him and affect sorrow that she couldn't eat with him.