Discovered (10 page)

“Why not?” Jay
questioned.

“Well, for
starters, she doesn’t have a date.”

“Really?” Jay
asked. He found it odd that no one would ask her, giving that she was a very
pretty girl. “She seemed to like Joey,” he said pensively. “What if I had Joey
ask her, would she go then?”

“Maybe,” Layla
replied. “But I’m not so sure it’s a good idea for you and I—”

“Please, Layla,”
Jay said, shimmying over and taking her hand in his. “Please go with me.”

She glared at him
for a long moment then sighed deeply.  “Okay,” she mumbled.

“Thank you,” he
whispered, his eyes probing hers.

 “I need to brush
my hair,” she said quietly.

“There’s a brush in
the little bathroom to the left of the kitchen,” Jay replied.

He watched Layla
walk out of the room, wondering what the heck he’d just done. Why on earth had
he insisted that she go to that dance with him? A small, childish part of him
was doing it to spite Hartley, he knew, but that was only a tiny part of the
reason. The bigger part seemed almost too dangerous to contemplate at that
moment. He knew he was running out of ways to fight his feelings for her. And
as wrong as it was, as much as he knew he should never involve her in his life,
he just couldn’t fight the pull she had. If he was being completely honest with
himself, he knew he hadn’t wanted anything as much as he wanted Layla Sparks.

He made his way to
the kitchen to grab a couple of sodas and turned the corner into the hallway,
smacking forcefully into Layla as she made her way back to the living room.

Instantaneously,
Jay gave into an overbearing impulse and gathered her into his arms. He felt
her stiffen momentarily as he pulled her closer, but then, after a fraction of
a second, she relaxed into him.

He pulled his head
back slightly to look down at her, and he could only imagine the spellbound
gape on his stupid face. Without really giving it much thought, he leaned in
and pressed his lips to hers. Leaning her up against the wall, he pressed in
deeper, feeling as though he had died and gone straight to heaven.

So naturally, that
would be the moment that the front door banged closed.

He felt Layla
stiffen again, and realized that his own breath had hitched in his throat. He
could feel Ben’s disapproving glare burning into him from ten feet away.

Layla pulled back
from Jay quickly and pressed her forehead to his chest, seemingly overcome with
unnecessary guilt, as if she had broken some unspoken law set by the almighty
Ben himself.

Jay cradled Layla’s
head against him and shot Ben a defiant look.

 Ben merely looked
back, a bitter-sweet smile pressed on his lips. “Hey,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” Jay replied
then turned back and kissed the top of Layla’s head.

“Hi there, Layla,”
Ben called out.

 “Hi, Ben,” she
said shyly. She pulled away from Jay and looked in Ben’s direction.

“I’ll just go…” Ben
pointed toward the kitchen, “…Yeah, I’ll just…y’know…” he walked past the
intimate scene without another glance.

Jay blew a hard
breath through pursed lips and looked down at Layla who was gazing up at him to
gauge his reaction. He smiled at her. “It’s okay,” he said reassuringly.

“Is he going to
be…?” she trailed off, shrugging her shoulders.

“It doesn’t matter
what he thinks,” Jay replied, not bothering to lower his voice.

Layla maneuvered
herself out from under Jay and walked into the living room.

Jay walked into the
kitchen after Ben, debating whether to make up an excuse for his pathetic, weak
behavior, or to tell Ben to shove his holier-than-thou attitude.

Ben was leaning
with his back against the sink, legs crossed at the ankles, munching on an
apple. “So,
that
worked out well,” he said, the words muffled due to the
large wad of fruit in his mouth.

“I’m not really in
the mood—”

“Relax, brother,”
Ben said, “I’m not passing judgment. I just hope you know what you’re doing,
that’s all.”

“No, I don’t
really,” Jay said matter-of-factly.

Ben walked forward
and put his hand on Jay’s shoulder. “I’d say little Layla has managed to get
under your skin, bro,” he stated. “Since you can’t seem to stay away from her, maybe
you should consider telling her the truth.”

Jay’s eyes widened.
“Are you kidding me?” he asked skeptically.

“I don’t see a
third option, do you?” Ben replied and walked out of the kitchen toward the
stairs. “I’ll stay out of your way in the meantime,” he added, taking the
stairs two at a time.

Jay considered
Ben’s words momentarily but knew that being honest just wasn’t possible. He
quickly formed a new plan. He’d take her to the dance the following Friday then
inform her that his parents decided to move back up north right away due to a
job offer. That way, they could part on good terms, so she wouldn’t think it
was because he didn’t care about her that he was ending it with her, and
ultimately, he’d get to spend one more precious night with her before he said
good-bye. Under the ruse that they could continue their relationship long
distance, he knew that a girl her age would finally get fed up and move on. It
was the perfect plan, now all he had to do was convince her to go along with
it.

And then suddenly
he felt traitorous, like a villain for planning to deceive her again for his
own selfish ends. He leaned his head up against the wall for a moment, feeling
ripped apart. It was the only way, he concluded, it was the only way she could
get to end it on her own terms.

He walked into the
living room and sat next to Layla, trying to find the words to convey his array
of emotions.

“Does he always
come and go as he pleases?” she asked.

“Yes, like I told
you before, he has his own set of keys,” Jay replied.

“And your parents
don’t mind?” she pushed.

“They’re not
here…much,” he answered.

She nodded.

He reached over and
took her hand. “Layla, do you think we could just take this very slowly,” he
asked.

“What?” she
questioned.

“Us…you and I,” he
replied.

“In what regard?”
she pushed, obviously having no clue where he was going.

“I know I told you
that I wasn’t in a position to date anyone, but while that’s one hundred
percent the truth, I really like spending time with you. So I thought that if
we take it slowly, y’know, see where we go…”

“You’re saying that
you want to…with me?” she asked.

“I want to spend
time with you, but my life is a little complicated. So maybe if we just took it
one day at a time…” he trailed off, shrugging.

She sat quietly for
some time, staring at him as though weighing up the option. “Okay,” she
reluctantly agreed.

Layla

The following week
went a little better…sort of.

At first, Layla’s
mother and Julie were both annoyed with her for being so easily swayed back
into a relationship with Jay. Regardless of the amount of times she assured
them that she wasn’t going to let her emotions get out of control this time,
they still argued that she was acting foolishly.

Julie conveniently
brought up the fact that Layla had insisted that was the case the first time,
and yet she was heartbroken when it ended. Somewhere deep inside, she concluded
that they were probably right, but the truth was, she loved spending time with
him.

Faced with the proposition of starting up their
budding romance again, Layla’s rational side told her to bolt for the door.
This guy was obviously carrying around some heavy baggage, but there was no
denying the feelings she had for him, and besides, it was a fair request, he
wasn’t exactly proposing marriage. What harm could one day at a time be, after
all? She was always at liberty to walk away any time she wanted.

She constantly tried to push back the memory from
the afternoon at his house, feeling well and truly angry with herself for
allowing him to kiss her again. At first, she stiffened and made to pull away,
but some overbearing urge ran rough-shot over her common sense and she melted
into him. She never wanted to be one of those sad girls that lets a guy play
with her mind then falls into his arms at a moment’s notice. But, as she
scolded herself inwardly, she couldn’t help reveling in the feel of his strong
arms wrapped around her. The next thing she knew, and defying all sanity, she was
kissing him back, relishing the moment until she heard the front door slam and
knew beyond any doubt that Ben was there, causing her to feel ashamed of her
weak behavior.

Jay sat with Layla
and Julie every day at lunch, much to Kevin Hartley’s utter disgust. He was
lively and upbeat, but to a certain degree, kept his distance. One day, he
would grab her hand as they walked down the school hallway, the next day,
nothing but casual banter. She willingly rode the roller-coaster, assuming that
she’d agreed to the situation to some extent, still trying to convince herself
that she could back out at any moment.

On Wednesday,
Cheryl picked Layla up from school. The plan was to go shopping for her
birthday present, which was going to be her dress and shoes for the dance, then
she and Cheryl would have a nice quiet dinner together, just the two of them.

They parked in the
parking lot of their town mall, which was one-third the size of the Raleigh
mall, but Layla preferred this one. She wasn’t much of a shopper to begin with,
and the less options she had, the easier it would be to make a choice quickly.

They went straight
to the mall’s flagship department store and took the escalator to the dress
department. Layla spied a pretty, strapless, black, knee-length dress, and her
decision was made.

“Already?” Cheryl
asked dubiously. “Honestly, Layla, you can’t pick out a car after how many
Saturdays of looking, yet you grab the first dress you see?”

“I like this one,”
she replied, carrying the dress over to the fitting room.

 It was a perfect
fit. When she walked outside the changing room to ask her mother’s opinion,
Cheryl gushed over her proudly.

“I cannot believe
how beautiful you look,” her mother stated. “It brings out the color of your
hair in a most unusual way.”

With the dress
neatly secured in a garment bag, they went downstairs to the shoe department.
After purchasing a pair of five-inch heeled black shoes that Layla was sure
she’d never be able to walk in, they headed to the seafood restaurant two miles
up the road for dinner.

“So, Layla, how are things with you and Jay?”
Cheryl asked after they had ordered.

Layla was sure her mother had been bursting to
ask her that for days. “Good, I suppose,” she replied.

“You suppose?” her mother echoed. “What does
that mean?”

Layla sighed; she knew she wasn’t getting out
of this conversation. “I don’t know, exactly. We always have a really good time
together. We’re always laughing and having fun, but…sometimes, it feels like
he’s holding back, like he’s trying to pull away emotionally, y’know?”

Cheryl nodded, tucked her brown hair behind her
ears and looked at her daughter expectantly, waiting for Layla to divulge more
information.

“Sometimes I sense him staring at me, and when
I look at him, he seems to have the most adoring look on his face, as though
he’s in love with me or something. Not that I’d know too much about that,” she
added. “But then other times…” she trailed off, shrugging her shoulders.

“What do you make of that?” Cheryl asked.

“I’m not really sure, but I think I sort of
agreed to this situation for a while, so I’m not putting too much thought into
it. But…”

“But, what?” Cheryl pushed.

Layla shook her head and laughed once.
“Sometimes I get the feeling that he’s just going to disappear one day. Isn’t
that crazy?”

“I don’t know if it is,” her mother replied.

“Really?”

“You know I like Jay, right?” Cheryl
questioned.

“But?”

“But there’s something different about him,”
she responded. “Something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

“Is this about his parents again?” Layla asked
in an agitated voice, feeling the need to defend Jay. A part of her felt the
situation with his parents was really weird also, but she wasn’t going to
confess that to her mother.

“It’s not that. Though I do find that odd,”
Cheryl answered. “No, there’s something else about him. It’s like he’s almost
too mature for his age.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Layla asked.

“I don’t mean that in the way that normal
eighteen-year-olds can be mature,” Cheryl responded. “He gives me the
impression that he’s been around a lot longer…something in his mannerisms…”

“Because he has old-fashioned manners?” Layla
queried sarcastically.

“No, that’s not it either,” Cheryl argued.
“Just…something…a vibe maybe.”

Layla rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she huffed,
feeling annoyed at her mother’s judgmental accusations.

The waitress brought their food over at that
moment, ending the conversation.

When they were finished eating, Cheryl picked
up her bag and rummaged through her wallet for something. She pulled out a plain,
white business card. “I found this lying discarded on James’ desk yesterday,”
she said, holding the business card up for her daughter to see.

“What is it?” Layla asked.

“It’s a business card that belongs to a man
named Manuel Castillez,” Cheryl explained. “According to this, he is some kind
of all-around handy man.”

“And?” Layla pushed.

“It’s what’s written on the back that grabbed
my attention,” Cheryl replied, handing the card to Layla.

Layla turned the card over and saw the name
‘Mr. Ankara’ written in neat capital letters with an address on Park Avenue
underneath. Scribbled under that it said
‘this is the only known address for
Ankara I’ve been able to find so far. Sorry, boss. I’ll keep looking.
’
Layla looked up at her mother. “What is this?” she asked with confusion.

“Is that the name of the man you heard James
and Robert talking about?”

“No,” Layla responded, shaking her head. “It
was Orson…or, Orton, maybe…but Manuel was definitely the man whom James’
suggested should ‘grab Orton’.”

Cheryl nodded. “I looked up this address on the
internet. I can tell you that whoever this Mr. Ankara is, he lives in the most
expensive building in Manhattan. This man is obviously absolutely loaded. We’re
talking serious amounts of cash.”

 “Did you ask James about this?” Layla pushed.

“I did,” Cheryl admitted. “I picked it up
nonchalantly and asked him if it was important, just to try to gauge his
reaction.”

“What did he say?” Layla asked.

“He just said it was worthless,” Cheryl
replied. “But he seemed almost annoyed to admit that.”

“Oh,” Layla muttered. “I don’t really see the
relevance.”

“I just found it strange since James doesn’t
have an employee named Manuel. I considered that maybe he had done a few odd
jobs, but there was no indication that a check has ever been cut for a man by
that name, so unless James paid cash, and why would he? It’s a mystery to me
why this man would call James
‘boss’
.”

“Maybe it’s just some kind of nickname that men
like to use when referring to other men, like
chief,
or
man
,”
Layla suggested. “Although, coming to think about it, when I overheard James
and Robert talking that day, it
did
sound like James was in some sort of
position of authority. What do you think?”

“I’m not going to push it any further because, like
I’ve said before, I’ve known James for as long as I’ve known your dad, and he
is not a criminal in any way, shape or form. I have to tell you, Layla, the
more I think about it the more I’m convinced that you took that whole
conversation up wrong.”

“Maybe,” Layla agreed. “But it’s still obvious
that James and that Manuel man
were
looking for someone.”

“Yes, but that could be for anything,” Cheryl
replied. “Just because they were looking for this millionaire doesn’t mean they
want him for something shady. For all we know, James could want to ask Ankara
for some sort of funding.”

“And he would use a handyman to get contact
information?” Layla asked skeptically.

“Perhaps Manuel does work for Ankara also,”
Cheryl surmised.

“Then he would know where Ankara lived,
wouldn’t he?”

“Layla…” Cheryl sighed deeply. “I think it’s
time you dropped this silly notion.”

Layla felt a slight agitation at her mother for
doubting her but quickly swallowed it, realizing that Cheryl was probably
right. The whole thing did seem ridiculous at this point. Now that a few weeks
had passed, she wondered if she hadn’t heard the conversation wrong. “You’re
probably right,” Layla admitted. “But just for the record, you were the one
that brought it up again. As far as I was concerned, it was already dropped.”

“Good,” Cheryl said. “So this is a closed
matter?”

Layla nodded. “Absolutely.”