Chapter 23
Jess
“You look beautiful.”
“You’ve said that already,” I smile teasingly.
“Well, I can’t stop. I’ve never seen you look so grown up, and that dress is killing me,” Quaid hums in my ear as we sway from side to side in the makeshift dance floor.
“So, in other words, I clean up nice, is what’s you’re saying?” I raise an eyebrow trying my darndest to hold a stern look but failing miserably in the presence of such adoration.
“Nice is not the word I would use. Mouth-watering, yes. Nice, no,” he smugly replies.
“Well, it’s too soon to leave, so you better quench your thirst somewhere else.” Quaid chuckles and the vibration makes my whole body come to life. I love how carefree he is around me, even in the midst of all these people. We carry on dancing and my head finds the perfect spot on his chest to lull me into contentment. Taylor had whisked me away this afternoon after the most uncomfortable family meal I ever attended. She wanted to find a dress for tonight’s occasion and ended up buying a white shoulder-less one for me. Since Quaid picked me up from my dorm room, he hasn’t been able to look away or keep his hands off for one minute.
Luckily Izzy was in a good enough mood to do my hair and makeup, but that was about as much of the old energetic Izzy that I was able to get Both she and Drew have been sulking in corners, and I’m growing tired of their cagey behavior. I’ll give them spring break to get their asses in check and come clean with whatever’s bothering them. I’ve been patient enough, and a true friend would have already called them out on it. Both are lucky that the boy in front of me has taken so much of my focus.
Speaking of which, why are we no longer swaying?
“Quaid? You okay? You look a bit pale,” I tell him looking up at his ghostly complexion.
“I’m fine, babe. Let’s go and see we can find my folks for a minute.” I nod and follow him off the dance floor. His neck is stiff as a board as he scans the crowd looking for his intended target. Once he sees his dad, he relaxes some, but not fully.
“Dad do you know where mom is?”
“I think she went to get something to drink. If I’m not mistaken your mom is on a mission to leave here tipsy before the night is through,” his dad smirks, holding his own scotch.
“Maybe she’s got the right idea,” Quaid deadpans.
“Maybe,” his dad replies, looking intently behind our shoulder.
“Dad, can you stay with Jess for a minute while I go and grab a drink for us? Hopefully, I’ll run into mom on the way,” he says, If I didn’t know any better, I’d think there was another meaning to this sudden proposed chaperone.
“Of course. I haven’t had the pleasure of having Jess all to myself yet. I’ll be the most envied man here,” Quaid’s dad says appeasing his son.
“Well, don’t get too comfortable with the title. I like the fact I’m holding that crown tonight,” Quaid goads and kisses my forehead.
“Well, aren’t I in the presence of Plymouth’s finest charmers? Go get your drink and come back quickly. I intend on finishing our dance, Quaid Stevens. So, march to it.” He lowers just enough to give me a soft kiss and parts in search of his mom and some liquid courage. Apparently attending fancy soirees like this one means every attendee has carte blanche to drink themselves silly with Dom Perignon, no matter the age.
“I like how you handle him, Jess. I don’t believe I have ever seen my son dance and smile at the same time. You have a way with him,” Quaid’s dad says pulling my attention to him.
“I like to see him smile,” I say, thinking how Quaid shines brighter when he’s relaxed and truly happy. He’s always so serious, so focused in every little detail, that I can’t help but get a warm feeling in my chest when all his somberness evaporates the moment I walk in a room. It’s as if I hold the key to all his troubles and he can just let go of them just so he can enjoy me fully. The feeling alone of having such an effect on a person is overwhelming, but having that effect on Quaid feels like a privilege that I won’t take for granted. Ever. If I’m the star that guides his light, then he is the sun that warms my entire existence. What I do for him, he gives it back to me by tenfold. It’s that little piece of heaven that I can visit where I don’t have to be strong or hard. I can just be a girl in love with a boy. In love with a boy that loves her right back. If there is such a place as heaven, then I’m sure it looks a lot like this.
Of course, we’ve never actually said the words. Those three words that most girls yearn to hear from their better half are still locked away. I’m not sure when it happened for either of us, but I know in my gut that although those words have yet to be uttered, it doesn’t mean love isn’t already on the table with us. If I feel his love, does it make it less real because three little words are yet to be said out loud? Aren’t actions and how we care for each other more valuable than words said within four walls?
“So, do I, my dear girl. So, do I,” Craig answers looking intently at me, and I feel as if he’s reading me like a book with a mischievous grin and a knowing gleam in his eyes.
“Now, since my wife kidnapped you this afternoon and my son doesn’t seem to like being away from you for too long, I’m going to take advantage of our limited time together. I want to know all about you. My son has gone to great lengths in telling me that he’s got a future Nobel Peace Prize winner as his intended, and I for one want to know more about your ventures. I always thought my son would be a candidate for such a prestigious award, but by his account, you’re the person I should bet my chips on. And please do not say Quaid has exaggerated on your achievements. We both know our boy is not the exaggerating type.”
I blush at the compliment and start to disclose the list of institutions, charities and activist labors I’m currently dabbling in. I also tell him how Quaid has been instrumental in giving me my little army to back me up. If it wasn’t for them, I could not have accomplished a quarter of it. It’s still astounding for me to see that there are so many kids like me that have the same perseverance and dedication to change the world we live in for the better.
I’m so passionately recalling this list, that I don’t even realize when Craig and I seem to have an audience.
“Yes, you are a true go-getter aren’t you, Jessica?” Grant snarks and I see a tall, grey-haired gentleman at his side inspecting me.
“So, I guess this party wasn’t as exclusive as I thought,” I mumble under my breath seeing the similarities between Grant and the gentleman greeting Craig. With the same tight jaw and air of superiority around him, he can only be his father. I guess he’s not Satan’s spawn after all.
“Jessica this is Sebastian Marshall, and I see you are already acquainted with his son, Grant,” Craig introduces, but it seems that neither man is on his BFF list.
“A pleasure, young lady,” the senior Marshall replies with a slight nod to his head in acknowledgment.
“I must say, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation and was quite impressed with all your attributes. I was just telling Grant how you were the perfect example of the partner he should strive to find if he’s serious in seeking a political career.” I almost choke on my own saliva at the mere idea of Grant and me together.
“I think I just threw up in my mouth,” I whisper but Grant raises an eyebrow showing he heard my rebuttal.
“Like I said, this one is taken. Craig’s son here basically called dibs right from the get-go.” I want to curse him out just for that little comment alone, but I bite my tongue hoping it’s enough to hold my temper in check. This is a party being held in Quaid’s family home, so I don’t want to shame any of my hosts by bitch slapping Grant for saying a man could dictate a woman’s right to choose whomever she wanted, based on the idiotic notion of a man placing dibs on her.
“Well on you then, Craig. Quaid has always been a clever boy. He no doubt will go a long way if he continues to make such poignant decisions. Grant here, however, has yet to impress me in this regard,” Marshall senior continues, and I see that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Can I fault Grant for being such a dick when his father is twice the arrogant prick he is?
“Yes well, I’m sure my son’s affection towards our lovely Jessica had more to do with heart then logic. You feel what you feel and there isn’t much the brain can do to alter it,” Craig affirms stoically. I look over at Grant to give him a smirk of my own, but he looks uncomfortable in continuing with our topic.
“Affection and feelings are for the naïve, not for businessmen like us, Craig,” Sebastian Marshall sweeps in with his own romantic spin and faces me once more.
“This young lady will testify to that, won’t you? Grant was just telling me how you also work at the DiStefano. Maybe Quaid was led by his anatomy, but this girl before us was not. Again, very impressive. If you are bound to work in the hospitality industry might as well work in the finest hotel New York has to offer, am I right? And with Quaid as your way in, why not take advantage of his influence to cast some of your own. Again, such a shame you don’t have a twin for my boy here. He sure would have benefited from such a shrewd business-minded young woman.”
Every word that is coming out of Grant’s father’s mouth is making me cringe, but his one statement on Quaid being my way in to the DiStefano is irking me like nobody’s business.
“I don’t mean to sound obtuse, but what do you mean about Quaid having any sort of influence at my place of employment?” My tone is dry to the point of me being unable to camouflage well enough how distasteful I find the man before me. Hell, I almost feel sorry for Grant to have grown up with such a shithead. No wonder he’s got such a stick up his ass. His father probably planted it in him from birth.
“Now, now young lady. No need to be coy. We’re all grownups here and know fully well how the world works. Do not be offended by my admiration. I have three girls of my own and have educated them to be just as ambitious. It is after all good business sense to get the feel of Quaid’s portfolio. Check out all the businesses he will surely have to take over in the future, once Debora and James step down. I doubt Donovan’s kids would be up for the challenge, but a powerhouse couple like you and Quaid, I’m positive the decision will tip your way. No doubt in my mind.”
“Well, as in so many other things you’ve said this evening, I will have to disagree. Quaid is following medicine. My son is to become a pediatric surgeon not CEO of my parents' conglomerate. So, don’t discount my niece and nephew too quickly. As it is, my parents show no sign of slowing down. Which means any deals you have with DiStefano Enterprises will continue to be with them and only them,” Craig points out stiffly, also annoyed but the older gentleman’s statements.
“We’ll see, Craig. Who knows, maybe if Jessica here plays her cards right, she just might be the next Debora.” I feel my hands go clammy at his remark and a cold shiver runs down my spine. How could Quaid keep such an important tidbit like this from me? I mean I am literarily scrubbing toilets at a hotel my boyfriend is going to own one day. Yeah, that type of information isn’t something you would forget about telling.
I’m still reeling when I see the other thorn in my paw. I might not be able to change the fact Quaid’s future is very different from the one I assumed he’d have, but I can do something about her.
“If you’ll excuse me, I think Quaid might have gotten lost with our drinks. I suddenly feel extremely parched. Gentlemen,” I say in my most upper-crust tone, but to my ears, it comes out more as if I’m mocking half of the people in attendance. If the men around me picked up on it, they didn’t let on, and Craig gives me an understanding smile as if he too wish he could leave Sebastian Marshall’s presence that easily. Surprisingly, even Grant seems as enthusiastic as Craig in sharing his father’s company.
Secrets. They are all around me. I hate secrets. To me, they are nothing but omitted truths camouflaged by pretty lies. I hate lies, and right now I’m surrounded by liars. Izzy’s secret is so deep that she has checked out of all reality and has decided to withdraw herself from everyone around her. I badger, and I probe, and still, she gives me nothing. Drew is also hiding something, but although in the beginning, his dirty little secret made him happy, now he’s just miserable with keeping up pretenses that whatever he’s hiding doesn’t bother him. And then there’s Quaid. Even the boy that held my heart in his hands is lying to me every day. I knew it and so did he, yet we danced around it like it was a campfire. If you got too close, then you were sure to get burnt. Keep a solid distance. Don’t get too close to it and all would be fine. But nothing is fine especially when the one that lit up the fuse is so close that I can almost touch her.
I’ve had enough of secrets. This one, especially, has tarnished my relationship with Quaid. He won’t tell me the truth. Either because he can’t summon the courage to tell me or because he feels so ashamed of it even to try. But if he won’t, then I’ll get it directly from the horse’s mouth. Something tells me that Olivia is dying to put a big old neon sign on this secret and broadcast it to the world. All I need to do is give her the stage she so desperately wants.
Quaid is nowhere to be found, so it’s now or never. Once he sees me talking to her, I’m sure that I will lose any chance at getting the answers that I want and by the looks of her, she only came here with one goal in mind. Talk to Quaid. She looks impeccable as always. Groomed to perfection without one stray hair out of place. Valentino dress and Louboutin shoes. What she’s wearing right now probably cost more than my whole wardrobe put together. To some girls that would have been intimidating enough, to me though that doesn’t mean jack. Having money isn’t synonym to being more than anyone else. It just means you can buy more crap than normal people. I could care one iota, but I do care that what she wants more is something she can’t buy and that is rightfully mine. Quaid. And no way in hell was I going to give him up to this puma without one hell of a fight.
She grabs one of the champagne flutes from one of the waiters and continues to wander around the spacious room looking for her intended target. I breathe in one more time and make my way to her. This ends tonight. Before she takes another step, I’m right in front of her, cutting her off.
“Hi.”
Her pale blue eyes stare at me trying to recall if she has ever met me. She hasn’t but I am too familiar with her and that takes her off guard for about five seconds. She looks me up and down and concludes that we don’t run in the same circles. I see a spark of curiosity beam in her eyes, but the only one that wants answers is me, and by god, this woman will give it to me tonight.
“Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“You’re right we haven’t. But I think it’s time we had.”
She raises an eyebrow at my cold tone and realizes that this isn’t me mingling. This is me making myself known.
“Alright. I’ll play along. Apparently, I don’t need to introduce myself as it seems you know who I am, but unfortunately, you have me at a disadvantage as I don’t know who you are. Maybe your name will freshen my memory,” she says still sizing me up, looking up and down at what I’m wearing. No, it’s not designer bitch, but I still look like a million bucks.
“Jessica.”
Her face shows that my name doesn’t ring any bells and again why should it. If Quaid has really distanced himself from this woman, then his personal life should not be of any concern to her anyway. But it still pisses me off.
“Quaid’s girlfriend.” I can’t hide the malice in my voice, and frankly, I don’t want to.
“Ah, I see,” she says, but any curiosity that she may have had regarding my person has now vanished and instead she now looks bored.
“Well, I guess that it was bound to happen sooner or later. Pleasure to meet you.” But before she moves away from me I grab her elbow. This takes her off guard. The little princess is probably not used to being manhandled.
“I wasn’t done.”
She rolls her eyes at me and gives out an exasperated sigh. “Little girl, I have no time to play around with you, or any interest for that matter, so say what you want and be done with it.”
“Who are you?”
A Cheshire grin takes over her face.
“I thought you said you were Quaid’s girlfriend. If you are, then I’m sure he’s spoken about me.” I cross my arms in front of me, biting my inner cheek in my attempt to keep a cool head. If she provokes me again, I fear that I’ll make her swallow that champagne glass.
“We have better things to do than talk about you.”
“If that’s true, you wouldn’t be here in front of me, now would you? Where is our Quaid anyway? I was hoping I could have a quick word with him, tonight.”
Like hell I’m letting that happen.
“Where Quaid is of no concern to you and you didn’t answer my question. Who the hell are you, Olivia?”
She’s no longer amused and I have finally pissed off the ice queen. She moves in closer to me and with eloquent pronunciation, spits back every word in my ear.
“Now listen here, little girl. Everything and I mean everything that has to do with Quaid concerns me. Don’t ever forget that.”
We are both staring at each other and if anyone truly looked at us, they would see the venom surrounding us.
“Stay away from him. He doesn’t want you or needs you in his life.” A bitter laugh leaves her lips.
“Sweet delusional child. That’s where you and I disagree. I will never stay away from Quaid, and if he has lead you to believe that he doesn’t want me in his life, then dear, I’m sorry to say he’s lied to you. He both needs me and wants me in it. But more importantly is that I will always be a part of his life. You may be here now, but I am forever. You hold on to that, little girl.”
Before I am able to rip that triumphant smirk right off her face, Quaid’s grandmother is already at Olivia’s side.
“Olivia, I’ve been looking all over for you. I see you’ve met Quaid’s friend.” The word friend coming out of her mouth must have felt as bitter on her lips as it sounded coming out of them
“Yes, Jessica here was just introducing herself. I had no idea that Quaid had such colorful acquaintances.” Both women are now looking at me like I am a pestilent guest who just doesn’t seem to know when they have overstayed their welcome.
“Yes, indeed. He shares Craig’s peculiar tastes in broadening his associations with diversity. Taylor is not only another influence but also a prime example. Come along now; I want to introduce you to the lovely woman who is heading the Met charity ball this year.”
Olivia gives me one last look before following Quaid’s grandmother away from me. But she has to leave one last parting gift.
“Of course, lead the way. I am family after all.”