"Sure." Gareth frowned. "That sounds loaded."
"I was talking to Yasmin." Kylie tugged on her hair. The humidity had shrunken it into tight curls, which rested heavily on her shoulders. The straightened hair hadn't lasted long, neither had the makeup. She had only a dash of lip-gloss on, and she had chewed it off.
So much for being sophisticated. The weird part of the whole thing was that Gareth did not seem to mind. He had even said she looked gorgeous this morning.
She brought her scattered thoughts back to the subject at hand. "Yasmin said your ex-wife was coming to Jamaica to lecture at Mount Faith. Is it true?"
Gareth clenched his jaw, and tightened his hand on the steering wheel. "She mentioned that she was thinking of coming here."
"To get back with you?" Kylie asked, ignoring the ‘back off’ signals she could see on his tense face.
"Yes." Gareth looked at her. "Don't worry about her; it's over. We had a turbulent couple of years, and it's done…kaput."
"Are you sure?" Kylie asked, a hint of steel in her voice, "because I don't want us to go into a relationship if she is pursuing you. I am not the fighting for your man kind of person."
Gareth looked at her seriously. "I am the fighting for your woman kind of person though. It would not be easy to let you go, to watch you with another man. It would fill me with dread."
Kylie smiled. "Well, I guess I could adjust my thoughts about the fighting part, but I just don't want to be caught up in a cat fight, and Yasmin made Jackie out to be some kind of monster."
"Yasmin is my friend; she'd say that." Gareth chose his words carefully, "Jackie is not a monster. She's pretty dedicated to whatever task she sets for herself. When we were married, she wasn’t dedicated to our marriage. I can tell you that I am not going to be with Jackie. What's the saying? 'Once bitten, twice shy.'"
Kylie nodded. "That's it. Just wanted that cleared up."
Gareth laughed and took her hands in his and linked them together tightly.
*****
Three days back from her weekend with Gareth, and Kylie was still on top of the world. She was in Deidra's room watching her as she did her nails; painting on a soft coral pink to go with some dress she had chosen for an interview on her entertainment program.
"So, that's it?" Deidra asked, applying the polish slowly and deliberately. "A little kiss on the lips, and that's all?"
"Yes," Kylie said, dreamily. "It was meaningful, and deep."
"Well, I guess that's progress," Deidra said, grinning. She had her hair caught in two, parted in the middle, and when she grinned, she looked like an impish schoolgirl.
Kylie grinned back at her. "I know you think I am juvenile but that's fine. I know more teenagers have more experience than me, but that's life. I have a little confidence now, even without going back to your confidence classes."
She ran her fingers through her curls, which she had worn ‘out’ for the past two days, on the insistence of Deidra who said that 'braid outs' were all the rage. Kylie had to admit that it really fit her face, and she was having fun with people asking her if she was a new student, even those she had been seeing on campus for the past two years.
Even her walk had changed. She no longer hung her head, barely looking people in the eyes—one kiss, and the promise of more, had turned her into a woman. It was the right kiss from the right man: her match. She swooned a little inside, then remembered the specter of Jackie, and was dropped back to earth.
"His ex-wife is coming out here to teach at this school," Kylie said, grumpily, to Deidra. "I am feeling nervous about it. I mean, I have started having nightmares."
Deidra shrugged. "If you are feeling nervous about it, fix it."
"How?" Kylie asked, wide-eyed.
"Your Daddy is the president," Deidra said flexing her toes for the nail polish to dry. "Tell him not to hire her."
"I have no influence over my father," Kylie said dismissing the thought outrightly. "What do you want me to do: ask him over dinner and say, 'Dad do you know of a Jacqueline Beecher applying to Mount Faith for a job? Could you trash her application, pretty please?'"
"That would have worked for me," Deidra said, "but then again, my father was a bit more willing to please. Your father is tough, so you would have to tell him something undesirable about her."
"I don't know anything about her," Kylie said, "and besides, I am hoping to work here. Now that I am finished with my final project, I think I am going to apply for a job in the summer. Just for the summer, mind you. I think I can face a class now, especially since summer classes are always smaller."
Deidra wriggled her toes in contemplation. "Okay, here's the thing. Go to your father's office. Tell him your intention to work at the school for the summer, and then mention Jackie's application. Tell him she is trying to win back her ex-husband, who you want to be with, then fake an asthma attack and say to him, as if you with have one breath left, 'Dad I will die if she comes here.'"
Kylie laughed. She laughed so hard that tears came to her eyes. "Deidra, are you sure design is enough for you? Drama would be a better fit."
Deidra giggled. "I would probably have done it in the past, but not anymore. I am cleaning up my act for Micah."
Kylie raised her brows. "Yesterday I went to his office in the Business Center to tell him hello, and I saw him laughing with Charlene. He looked so happy."
Deidra's face clouded over. "Why are you trying to hurt me?"
"I did not mean to hurt you," Kylie said, "I just don't think Micah is your perfect match."
"You and your perfect-pair theory and that stupid ‘Goodbye Lonely’ song," Deidra snorted. "You can make yourself perfect for whoever you want; Micah is my perfect match."
"You can't force it, and he can't handle you," Kylie said. "I know my brother as well as anyone, and he's too laid back, too casual for you. He treats you like a friend. There is no chemistry there. When you meet your match, you'll know."
"Argh, stop it," Deidra said stubbornly. "It's Micah for me. Now go and sort out your love life and leave mine alone."
"Okay, okay, don't kill me for my opinion," Kylie said sourly. "I am going to ask my dad not to hire Jackie, and it's not going to be easy."
*****
Kylie woke up on Wednesday morning at six o'clock and padded to the door. Her father was getting ready to go to the gym; she could see him scrounging around in the hall closet for his racket. He was dressed in his black tracksuit and had a matching band around his head.
She hurriedly pulled on her exercise gear and decided to follow him to the gym. What better time to pounce than when her father's guard is down.
When she walked out of her room, he was just about leaving, and he raised his eyebrows when he saw her in gym gear.
"I am coming to the gym this morning," Kylie said grabbing her pump from the table. "It is fine time I start exercising. I heard it strengthens the lungs, and mine is in need of some help."
Her father's eyebrows rose even higher. Then she realized that she was talking too much. She was not known to go into spurts of conversation without prompting.
He grunted and said, "I usually jog to the gym. Hope you can keep up."
Kylie groaned. The gym was about two miles away. She could barely fast walk, and he wanted her to jog.
She dragged herself after him and walked down to the gate. Her father's dog, Daryl, walked out behind her. "Go back Daryl," She said sternly. Daryl looked at her as if she had lost her senses and started wagging his tail.
"He comes to the gym sometimes," Bancroft said, grinning as Daryl ignored her. "He likes to walk there and back. Treat him nicely so he will feel obliged to slow down and accompany you."
"Thanks a lot for the encouragement, Dad," Kylie said trying to match her strides to his. He slowed down somewhat and then looked at her.
"Out with it!"
"Out with what?" Kylie asked, cautiously.
"What's the favor?" Bancroft asked her as they turned the corner onto Mount Faith Drive.
She said, hurriedly, "I want a job for the summer."
Bancroft looked at her sideways and then laughed incredulously. "That's it? Done. Send me your resume I will talk to HR. What are you going to do after summer?"
"Freelance. I have built some apps, and I have a major game working on with Gareth. The apps will sell," she said in a rush. "Gareth does it, and he is pretty famous in the app world."
"Well, good. I am proud of you."
"Has Jackie Beecher contacted you about working here?"
Bancroft stopped, and so did Daryl. Both man and dog looked as if they were laughing at her, except that her father could not conceal his smile as well as the dog concealed his.
"She already contacted me," her father said, slowly.
"And what did you say?" Kylie asked anxiously.
"There is a position that just opened in the office of the legal counsel. This person would also carry two classes for the semester. It is a one-year contract, until Valerie Ennis gets back from her study leave."
"But she's a divorce lawyer," Kylie sputtered. "What on earth can she do for the school?"
"She was a litigator before this, and she did corporate law as a specialty." Bancroft said, countering her protest.
Kylie seriously contemplated doing just what Deidra had jokingly suggested; pretend as if she had asthma and writhe on the ground, but she suspected that her father and the dog would look at her without pity.
She mumbled, "Please don't hire her."
"I already okayed her application," Bancroft said, looking at his watch. "She's an excellent lawyer and it's out of my hands now. HR has it, along with three other applications; maybe she won't get it." He sighed. 'Honey, you will just have to deal with your love triangle on your own."
Kylie opened her mouth to protest, then closed it. "You knew who she was when she applied, didn't you?"
"Of course," Bancroft said, starting to walk again. "I found it intriguing, her sudden appearing just when you are getting involved with her husband."
"Ex-husband," Kylie corrected him hastily. "Did you have her investigated?"
"Now, now, Kylie," Bancroft said, "I would never do that. I would have Gareth Beecher investigated, not her. And I did have him investigated before you went off with him for the weekend. Thankfully, I found nothing untoward. I even had the Lipschitz couple investigated. You are my daughter. Nothing gets past me."
"Oh boy," Kylie said, "you are something else. I can't believe you can't help me. How often do I ask you for favors."
They had reached Taj's house, and he was waiting for them, jogging on spot.
"Hi Kylie," Taj said. "Are you okay?"
"No," Kylie said abruptly.
Taj laughed at her pissed-off expression. "I only asked because I have never seen you out here at this time of the morning."
"First time for everything," Kylie said, grumpily, "but I am going back home, my mission has failed. I will get enough exercise walking around the campus."
"Are you coming back to confidence classes?" Taj asked her, "I didn't see you at the last two sessions."
"No," Kylie waved him off. "My father said Bancroft's are born with confidence."
Taj looked over at Bancroft and shook his head. "Sometimes your father is wrong. I beat him so badly at squash yesterday that he looked like he was going to cry."
Kylie rolled her eyes, "That's your Bancroft confidence speaking. I rest my case. See you later."
She walked off leaving her father, Taj, and the dog looking at her with varying levels of concern.
Chapter Eight
Kylie walked up Mount Faith Drive contemplatively after leaving her father and Taj behind, and decided to go toward Mount Faith Close on the south side, where Gareth lived. The morning was overcast and felt chilly, so she pushed her hand deeper into the pockets of her hoodie. Though she was walking at a brisk pace, it took her twenty minutes to reach the Close.
The houses in the Close were smaller than the ones on the drive. They were built for single lecturers, and lecturers with small families. Each house was painted a boring shade of cream and all had the same brown roof shingles.
Some persons took pride in their small lawn area and planted a profusion of flowers. Other person's couldn't be bothered, so some yards were overgrown. Kylie was curious to see how Gareth kept his yard. She knew he lived at house number eight.
It was the first things she learned about him before she even met him face to face. She had overheard Jossette Carrington, the receptionist in the president's office, gossiping about him on the phone.
"A hot looking white guy just moved in beside me," she had squealed into the phone. "He's Australian," she had gushed. "I feel as if my computer needs to be fixed," she had said slyly before looking up and realizing that Kylie was standing at her desk.
Of course, Kylie knew that Jossette lived at number seven. Her mother was a lecturer at the university, so she had been living on campus. They had for a brief time done group work together for some obscure subject, which she couldn't remember now, when they were pursuing their bachelor’s degree. Kylie had gone to Josette’s house to collect a paper.
Kylie stopped at number 8, the last house on the close. His lawn was neat with two neatly trimmed rose bushes at the front. She breathed a sigh of relief; she tended to judge people on how they took care of their houses and lawns.
His car was in the driveway. The deep blue Honda Accord was incredibly dusty, and looked as if it needed a good wash. As if she conjured him from her thoughts, she saw Gareth coming around to the front of the house with a hose, sponge, and a bucket in hand.
He was in cut off shorts, showing off his leanly muscled legs, and he was shirtless. A cold puff of wind hit her from the left, and she drew her hoodie closer. Of course, she had seen Gareth shirtless over the weekend when they went to the Blue Lagoon to swim and when they had gone to Frenchman's Cove on Sunday for a quick dip, but she had been afraid to look at him for as long as she now did. She found herself leaning on the wall, hoping that the shrub at the front of his gate was concealing her voyeurism.
He started washing the car with backward and forward strokes and she found herself envying the dirty car as he swiped it vigorously.
He was heavily tanned, she noted; he had the color of a light toffee. Unbidden images of both of them skin-to-skin, completely naked, came to her mind. The contrast of their complexions would be striking. She leaned her head on the wall and inhaled deeply, turning her back to Gareth, her temptation. Maybe she should just walk back home.
"I have never had a stalker before," Gareth said, above her head. He had come to the edge of the fence, where the ground was higher, and was looking over the shrubs that lined the wall.
Kylie was mortified. She was afraid to look up; maybe, if she pretended that she wasn't there, he would go away.
"Want to come join me, Kylie? I have a dirty car, and an extra pair of hands would be appreciated."
Kylie looked up swiftly. "How'd you know it was me?"
"I could sense you there," Gareth said, his eyes laughing at her. "Your eyes look at me with such intensity, it's like a touch. I don't know if you know this, but it's a huge turn on."
Kylie groaned. "I am sorry."
"Don't be." Gareth grinned and started heading back to his car. "I really, really like the way you look at me. It's as if your eyes speak. I see innocence, turmoil, longing."
Kylie walked behind him slowly. "I am that obvious?"
"Yes," Gareth looked at her seriously, "and I feel the same, except for the innocence. It's because I am not so innocent why I am afraid to shatter yours… So I am taking it slow with you. See I waited a whole year to kick this up a notch."
"You waited!" Kylie exclaimed incredulously, "I beg to differ: you treated me as you do everybody else."
"That was then; this is now," Gareth said, grinning and handing her a sponge. "By the way, welcome to my home."
"Thanks." Kylie bit her lip. "I wanted to see how you keep your lawn."
Gareth guffawed. "I hope I passed the lawn test, but then again, I pay a guy to do it for me so I take no credit there."
Kylie dipped her hand in the soapy water and started to rub the car. Their hands touched accidentally, and Gareth looked at her and smiled wickedly. "If you touch me again I am going to kiss you."
Kylie stopped rubbing the car and deliberately touched his hand this time. Gareth grinned and turned her around to him. She could feel the tenderness of his touch even through her jacket sleeves.
He tentatively placed his lips on hers. She arched her back at the first contact, causing Gareth to take her mouth in an explosion of sensual energy. His hands on her shoulders were gentle yet rough. The heat between them was like a red-hot wire shooting through her; she gripped his arms firmly to steady herself.
"Dr. Beecher," Jossette's gruff tones invaded their kiss. Gareth released Kylie, who looked as if she was confused as to their whereabouts. She had been just as lost in that kiss as he was; he wondered when was the last time he had ever felt such instant, dangerous chemistry. Never.
He stared at Jossette absently—the woman was always calling him for something or throwing herself at him. He found her annoying at the best of times, but now he actually felt angry. Then he realized that he had been standing in the middle of his driveway hungrily kissing the president's daughter as if he was going to have her for breakfast.
He stared at Jossette impatiently. "Yes, Jossette."
She was standing there, transfixed and staring at Kylie as if she were an alien.
"I… er wanted to know if you would help me with the… er iron, since you are into computers and all?" She kept staring at Kylie, who had her head down as if she were the woman caught in adultery. "It stopped working."
"No, I can't. Sorry, Jossette," he said, wanting her to disappear. "I am kind of busy right now."
Goodbye Lonely (The Bancrofts: Book 4) Page 6
