Now and Forever (44 page)

"That's what I like. A woman who knows what she wants. As a matter of fact, how about coming with me?"

"Are you kidding?"

"I certainly am not. I'll only be gone for three or four days. You could get away for that long, couldn't you?" Yes, but with a total stranger? God only knew who he was.

"I've been meaning to go to New York for the shop, but now I don't need to, and ... Paris ...?" She didn't know what to say. After all those jerks who had crawled all over her, here was a perfectly heavenly man, and he wanted to take her to Paris.

"We don't ..." He looked awkward but sweet. "We don't have to share the same room. If you'd be more comfortable ..."

"Geoffrey! You're an angel. And stop it, or I'll wind up doing it and neglecting all the things I ought to do here. I'm very touched that you'd ask, but I really can't."

"Well, let's wait and see. You might change your mind."

Wow. Geoffrey was really quite amazing. Paris? She almost wanted to say yes, but ... why not? Why the hell not? Paris? ... God, it would be gorgeous, but ... dammit, why did she feel as if she'd be cheating on Ian? What difference did it make now? She was free. He wouldn't even know. She never saw him anymore anyway. But ... somehow ... he was there ... with a look of pain in his eyes, as though he didn't want her to go. She tried to shake his face from her mind, and smiled at Geoffrey.

"Thank you for the offer."

"I do wish you'd come. See what I mean about enjoying impromptu trips? I love that sort of thing! Not much fun if you have to drag along a nanny and four brats, or leave them at home and feel guilty. Being an uncle is really much simpler. Have you any nieces or nephews?" She shook her head quietly. "Brothers or sisters?"

"No. I had a brother, but he died in the war."

Geoffrey looked puzzled for a moment. "The second one, or Korea? In either case, he must have been quite a bit older."

"No. Vietnam."

"Of course. How stupid of me. How awful. Were you very close?" His pressure on her hand grew a trifle stronger, as though to support her. His thoughtfulness pleased her a great deal.

"Yes. We were very close. It did awful things to me when he died." It was the first time she had ever been able to say that. The last few months had freed her in more ways than she knew.

"I'm sorry."

She nodded and smiled. "And how many brothers and sisters do you have?"

"Two sisters, and a very stuffy brother. My sisters are quite mad. But very amusing."

"Do you still spend much time in Europe?"

"Quite a bit. A few days here, a few days there. I enjoy it very much that way. By the way, Jessica, shouldn't I be taking you back to the shop for your meeting with Astrid?"

"Christ. I forgot all about it. You're right!" She looked at her watch regretfully, and smiled at him again. It had been a lovely few hours.

"I've been keeping you from your appointments too, I suspect."

"Yes, I ..." But laughter took the place of seriousness and he looked at her with a mischievous smile. "No, I didn't have a single appointment. I came up here entirely to see you." He sat back in his chair and laughed at himself, as though very pleased.

"You did?" Jessica looked astonished.

"I most certainly did. I hope you don't mind."

"No. I'm just surprised." Very surprised, and a little taken aback. What did that mean? He had come up to see her ... and the suggestion of the trip to Paris ... dammit. Was he going to be like everyone else and expect to exchange a meal for her body?

"Oh, the look on your face, Jessica!"

"What look?" There was laughter and embarrassment in her voice. What if he really had known what she'd been thinking? He seemed to do that a lot.

"Would you like to know what look?"

"Okay. See if you can guess." She might as well brazen it out.

"Well, if I tell you that I have a room at the Huntington, will you feel any better?"

"Oh! You!" She swatted him with her napkin. "I was not ... !"

"You were too!"

"I was too!"

They both laughed, and he slipped a large bill onto the waiter's plate and got up to help Jessica into her jacket.

"I apologize for my thoughts." Jessica hung her head with a grin.

"You certainly ought to." But he gave her a friendly hug on their way out and they laughed and teased all the way back to the shop. Astrid was waiting for them with a relaxed smile when they got in. It pleased her to see Jessie happy again, and with a man.

"I'll leave you now to your meetings and your business and your whatever-it-is-you-do. And Jessica, what time shall I fetch you?"

"From here?" She looked surprised. It was strange to be taken care of again, escorted and assisted, picked up and brought back. She had missed it for so long, and now she didn't quite know how to handle it again. It was like coming back to shoes after months of barefeet.

"Would you rather I meet you after work?"

"Either way." She looked at him happily, and for a moment neither of them spoke. She had been about to offer him her car, but she couldn't quite do that. Not ... not the Morgan. She felt rotten for not offering it, but she couldn't.

"Why don't I give you time to go home and relax? May I pick you up there?" Since he already knew that she was a little bit skittish, they both laughed, but she nodded.

"That'll be fine."

"Say at seven? Dinner at eight."

"Super." And then suddenly she had a thought. He was almost at the door of the shop, and she quickly walked toward him. "You don't know San Francisco very well, do you?"

"Not very. But I expect I can find my way around." He looked amused at her concern.

"How would you like a tour at the end of the day?"

"With you?"

"Of course."

"That's a splendid idea."

"Great. Where will you be around five?"

"Anywhere you say."

"All right. I'll pick you up outside the St Francis Hotel at five. Okay?"

"Very much so."

He gave her a quick salute and ran quickly down the steps of the shop as Jessica turned back to Astrid.

Somehow she had a hard time keeping her mind on what they were saying as they discussed the sale of Lady J.

"Right, Jessie?"

"Huh?" Astrid was grinning at her when she looked up. "Oh, shit."

"Don't tell me you're falling in love."

"Nothing like it. But he's a very nice man. Isn't he?" She wanted Astrid's approval.

"He looks like it, Jessie."

Jessica looked up at her friend and giggled like a schoolgirl. It seemed hours before they had their business settled, although both women were pleased with the results. Jessica got up jubilantly from her desk, pirouetted on one heel of the pretty Gucci shoes, and looked at her watch.

"And now, I have to go." She picked up her bag, blew Astrid a kiss, and paused happily at the door for a moment. "In fifteen minutes I have to pick up Ian." With a rapid wave she was out the door and down the steps--without ever realizing what she had said. Astrid shook her head and wondered if she'd ever get over him. More than that, she wondered how Ian was doing. She missed him. And thinking of him threw a damper on her excitement about Jessie's new friend.

Jessie was already backing out of the drive and on her way to meet Geoffrey.

"Am I late?" She looked worried as she pulled up in front of the St. Francis. She had run into unexpected traffic on the way downtown. But he looked happy and relaxed, like a man who is looking forward to seeing someone, not like a man who has been kept waiting.

"Oh, I've been here for hours."

"Liar."

"Heavens! What an outrageous thing to call a man!" But he looked delighted to see her, and allowed himself to lean over and give her a peck on the cheek. She liked the friendliness of it. The hugs before passion ever became an issue. The little touches of the hand, the quick kiss on the cheek. It made things less awesome that way. They were becoming friends. She was falling in like.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Everywhere." She eyed him with pleasure as she drove up to Nob Hill.

"What a promise. Well, I know where we are now, anyway. That's my hotel." She ignored him, and he grinned.

"This is Nob Hill." And she pointed out Grace Cathedral, the Pacific Union Club, and three of the city's poshest hotels. From there they swooped down California Street to the Embarcadero, the Ferry Building, and a quick view of the docks. Up toward Ghirardelli Square and the Cannery, where she pointed out the honeycomb of boutiques right after they passed Fisherman's Wharf (where she had stopped and bought him a well-filled cup of fresh shrimp and a huge hunk of sourdough bread).

"What a tour. My dear, I'm overwhelmed." And she was having a marvelous time as well.

From there, they went on to watch the old men playing boccie on the rim of the bay, and then up to the yacht basin and the St. Francis Yacht Club. This was followed by a sedate tour past blocks and blocks and blocks of elaborate mansions. After which they took refuge in Golden Gate Park. And her timing was perfect. It was just nearing sunset, and the light on the flowers and lawns was gold and pink and very lovely. It was Jessica's favorite time of day.

They walked past endless flower beds, and along curved walks, past little waterfalls, and around a small lake, until at last they reached the Japanese tea garden.

"Jessica, you give an extraordinarily good tour."

"At your service, sir." She swept him a formal curtsy, and he put a quick arm around her shoulders. It had been a beautiful day and she was beginning to feel as though she really knew him.

She liked his reactions, his way of thinking, his sense of humor, and the gentle way he seemed to care about how she felt. And he seemed so much like her. He had the same kind of free and easy ways, the same craving for independence. He seemed to like his work, and he certainly didn't appear to be suffering financially. He really seemed the perfect companion. For a while, anyway. And he was nice to her. She had learned to be grateful for that, without leaning on him too heavily.

"What do you like to do more than anything in this world, Jessica?" They were sipping green tea and munching little Japanese cookies in the tea garden.

"More than anything else? Paint, I guess."

"Really?" He seemed surprised. "Are you good? Stupid question, but one always feels compelled to ask that, useless though it is. People who are any good insist that they're awful. And of course the bad ones tell you they're the best."

"Now what do I say?" They both laughed and she shared the last cookie with him. "I don't know if I'm any good or not, but I love it."

"What sort of things do you paint?"

"It depends. People. Landscapes. Whatever. I work in watercolor or oils."

"You'll have to show me sometime." But he sounded indulgent and not as though he took her very seriously. He had a kind of placating, fatherly way about him sometimes, which made her feel like a little girl. It was odd that now that she had gotten used to being a grownup, someone had appeared who would have let her go on being a child. But she wasn't sure she still wanted to be one.

When the tea garden closed, they walked slowly back to the car, and Geoffrey seemed to see it for the first time.

"You know, Jessica, it's really a beauty. These are almost collectors' items now. Where did you get it?"

"I'm not sure one should admit that sort of thing, but it was a gift." She looked proud as she said it.

"Good lord, and a handsome one." She nodded in silence and he cast her a glance without asking the question. But whoever had given her the car, he knew it was someone important in her life, and most likely her husband. Jessica was not the sort of woman to accept large gifts from just anyone. He already knew that much about her. She was a woman of breeding, and considerable style.

"Have you ever flown? I mean flown a plane yourself." She laughed at the idea and shook her head. "Want to try?"

"Are you serious?"

"Why not? We'll go up in my plane sometime. It's not hard flying at all. You could learn in no time."

"What a funny idea."

He was full of funny ideas, but she liked them. And she liked him.

They shared a wonderful evening. The food at L'Etoile was superb, the piano in the bar was gentle, and Geoffrey was delightful to be with. They shared a Chateaubriand with truffles and bearnaise, white asparagus, hearts of palm with endive salad in a delicate mustard dressing, and a bottle of Mouton-Rothschild wine, 1952, "a very good year," he assured her in his clipped English way, but warmed by a smile produced just for her. He always managed to create an atmosphere of intimacy without making her feel uncomfortable.

And after dinner they danced at Alexis'. It was a far cry from the evening she'd spent there with the blind date Astrid had provided. Geoffrey danced beautifully. It was a thoroughly different evening from any she had spent in years. There was luxury and romance and excitement. She hated to go home and see it end. They both did.

They drove to her house in silence, and he kissed her gently at the door. It was the first time he had really kissed her, and it didn't send rockets off in her head, but it pulled threads all the way up her thighs. Geoffrey was a totally magnetic man. He pulled away from her slowly, with the tiniest of smiles tugging at one side of his mouth. "You're an exquisite woman, Jessica."

"Would you like to come in for a drink?" She wasn't sure if she wanted him to, and the way she said it told him so. She almost hoped he'd refuse. She didn't want to ... not yet. But he was so appealing, and it had been such a long time.

"Are you sure you're not too tired? It's awfully late, young lady." He looked so gentle, so thoughtful, so much like ... like Geoffrey. She forced her thoughts back to the present and smiled into his eyes.

"I'm not too tired." But she stiffened a little and he sensed it. He smiled at her back as she opened the door with her key. She had nothing to fear from him. He wanted much more than she could give in a night. He wasn't going to rush her. He already knew what he wanted, and what he wanted was for keeps.