Promising You (The Jade Series #4) (6 page)

We get our coats and head to the car. It’s almost March and the weather is starting to warm to the point that we only need a light jacket. I’m looking forward to better weather. I miss running, although now I have to wait for my knee to heal before I can start up again.

When we get to Garret’s house, his dad isn’t there yet. Katherine’s there, unhappy to see us as usual. But she puts on her fake smile and tells us that her husband will be home shortly.
 

We go straight to the kitchen where Charles, the family cook, is already prepping dinner.

“What are you two doing here?” he asks when he sees us.
 

“We came to talk to my dad but he’s not home yet.”

“Hi, Charles,” I say.

He nods and smiles as he cuts carrots into thin coins. I like Charles a lot. He’s in his fifties and although he doesn’t have kids, he seems like he’d be a good dad or a good uncle. He’s super friendly and easy to talk to.
 

“Jade’s missed your cooking, Charles. You got any leftovers for us?” Garret opens the door of one of the massive refrigerators.

“You don’t have to eat leftovers. I’ll make whatever you want. What would you like?” He puts his knife down and wipes his hands on the kitchen towel hanging from his shoulder.

“Ask Jade. She’s the sick one.”

“I’m not sick,” I insist. “Would you stop saying that?”

“Are you feeling any better?” Charles asks.
 

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“She’s not fine,” Garret says to Charles. He takes two sodas from the fridge. “She couldn’t even remember what day my birthday is. She’s suffering from major memory loss.”

Garret hands me a soda, smiling before taking a sip of his own.

“It’s August 22,” Charles says.

“See? Charles remembers what day it is.”

I give Garret a look to cut it out. I already feel bad enough for not knowing. We talk about maybe getting married someday and I didn’t even know his birthday or his favorite color.
 

5

“My mother used to make grilled cheese sandwiches when I was sick,” Charles says.
 

“I’m not sick,” I mumble.

“My mom did, too,” Garret says. “Jade, you like grilled cheese?”

“I love grilled cheese.”

“We’ll have two grilled cheese if it’s not too much trouble,” Garret says to Charles.

I’m expecting a couple thin slices of white bread with a slice of bright orange processed cheese, but that’s not how Charles makes it. He uses thick slices of homemade bread that he slathers with real butter and tops with white cheddar cheese that he cuts from a large block. The resulting sandwich is much better than the ones I grew up eating.
 

As we finish up lunch, Pearce walks in the kitchen. Charles nods hello at him as he walks by.

“Hey, Dad,” Garret says. “We’re almost done.”

“No rush,” he says. “I’ll be in my office. Just come in when you’re ready. How are you doing, Jade?”

“Fine.” I cover my mouth, which is stuffed with the homemade cookies Charles gave us for dessert.
 

Pearce takes a bottle of water from the fridge and leaves.

Charles points to the tray of cookies. “I’ll wrap some of those up for you to take back. In fact, I’ll make up a whole box of things. I have some brownies and some caramel nut bars. Would you like some as well, Garret?”

“No, thanks.”

“He’s always been a healthy eater,” Charles says quietly to me. “Always limits the sweets. That’s how he stays in good shape like that.”

I look at Garret. “That’s true. You really don’t eat sweets that much.”

“I do sometimes, but not every day like you do.”

“I really need to start paying more attention to you. I feel like I don’t even know you.”

He laughs as he gets up from the table. “You
know
me. Let’s go talk to my dad.”

Pearce is yelling at someone on the phone when we walk into his office. “I need those reports by this afternoon. No excuses.” He sets the phone down, not even saying goodbye to whoever he was talking to.

“You want us to come back later?” Garret asks.

“No, I’m just having some problems with the plant manager in Detroit. It’s under control now.”
 

Garret and I sit in the leather chairs across from Pearce’s desk.
 

“So is this about that reality show?” Pearce sits back in his chair. “Because I’ve talked to our attorneys and aside from getting those photographers banned from Moorhurst, there isn’t much we can do.”

“But how can it be legal for them to make up stories about me like that?” Garret asks. “Can’t we sue them for libel?”

“We could, but that would take a lot of time and effort and the lawyers think it’s best if we just wait this out. Once those three episodes air, all this press you’re getting will likely just go away. By April, nobody will care what your favorite food is or what cologne you wear.” He chuckles.

“Dad, it’s not funny.”

“I know. I just find it surprising how people have taken such an interest in you. You’re not even on the show and yet you’ve got millions of fans.”

“Millions? Really?” I look over at Garret who seems just as surprised.

“Anyway, we’ve been advised by the lawyers to keep quiet and lay low until all this blows over. They want you to stay on campus, Garret, as much as possible so the photographers can’t get to you. And they want you to avoid travel of any kind. I know you mentioned going with Jade to Des Moines over spring break but I don’t think you should. You’ll have photographers following you around and given what happened last time, you could end up getting hurt. Or getting Jade hurt.”

Garret glances at me, then turns back to his dad. “Jade and I will talk about it later. We actually came here to talk to you about something else.”

Pearce leans forward, resting his arms on the desk. “Okay, what it is?”

“Jade, you want to tell him?”

“Um, yeah.” I feel nervous all of a sudden. Garret’s dad can be very intimidating and sometimes I find him hard to talk to, especially when all the attention is on me. “Arlin Sinclair came to see me at school yesterday.”

Pearce sits up straighter, rubbing his chin with his hand. “I see. So what was the purpose of Arlin’s visit?’

“He wanted to meet me and tell me some things.”

“What kind of things?” Pearce is a busy man so he likes people to get to the point, but I’m having trouble doing that and I can tell it’s frustrating him.
 

“You want me to tell him?” Garret asks, sensing my nervousness.
 

“No. I’ll do it. Sorry, Mr. Kensington. I’m still trying to make sense of what he said so—”

“It’s okay, Jade. Just take your time.”

I retell the entire story including the supposed plans for Garret.

Pearce listens intently, but his face never changes. No look of surprise or worry or anger. Nothing.
 

When I’m done, the room gets quiet for a moment. Then Pearce does this thing he’s done before where he looks me right in the eye so intensely that I feel like I’m being hypnotized or brainwashed.
 

“Jade, you understand that knowledge of this organization Arlin and I are part of is strictly confidential. I trust you’ll keep the secrecy of this organization intact. Is that correct?”

With the look Pearce is giving me and his somewhat threatening tone, I find myself unable to respond.
 

Garret squeezes my hand and I’m finally able to speak. “Yes, I understand. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Arlin never should’ve told you about it. It’s against the rules and he knows that. It just proves that he’s not as sharp as he once was.”

“But what about the other stuff he said? Was any of that true?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“So there’s no secret plan for me?” Garret laughs a little as he asks it.

“Of course not. That’s ridiculous.” Pearce smiles, but I notice his body stiffen up and his eyes shift to his desk and I wonder if he’s really telling us the truth. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. Being in this house and around Garret’s family seems to make me that way.

“What about that stuff he said about Royce?” I ask. “Was the group you’re part of really going to make Royce president?”

Pearce smiles again as he sits back in his chair. “We aren’t in the game of picking presidents, Jade. It’s true we’re involved in helping people get elected, but strictly through donations. Helping with fundraising events.”
 

“But why would Arlin make up lies like that? Why would he say that stuff about Garret?”

“Because he doesn’t want his granddaughter dating a Kensington.” It’s so odd to hear myself referred to as someone’s granddaughter. “Given the circumstances, it’s understandable why he wouldn’t want you to be with my son.” Pearce stands up. “I really need to get back to work. I’m sorry, Jade, if Arlin frightened you with those stories he told you. I’ll have a talk with him at our next meeting.”

“No, you don’t need to. I’m just glad none of that stuff was true.”

I pretend to believe Garret’s dad, but I really don’t trust what he said. It doesn’t make sense. Arlin wouldn’t go to all that trouble to tell me those things if they were just made-up stories. And he seemed really sincere when he told me. Like he really believed everything he was saying.
 

Garret and I get up and leave and Pearce shuts the door behind us.

“Feel better now?” Garret asks, putting his arm around my shoulder. “Arlin is just a crazy old man trying to get you to break up with me because I’m a Kensington. Just forget what he said. My dad will talk to him. He won’t bother you again.”

“Yeah, okay.” I decide not to share my suspicions with Garret. He and his dad have been getting along better lately and I don’t want to mess that up. Besides, maybe Pearce
was
telling the truth.

“Ready to head back?” Garret grabs our coats which we left sitting on a chair in the living room, mainly just to piss off Katherine who likes everything to be neatly put away.

“Not really. It’s a nice day and we don’t have class so maybe we could do something.”

“Like what?”

I look up at him and smile. “Take a drive in my new car? Since I can’t drive yet, you’ll be the first one to drive it.”
 

“I already drove it. I’ve driven it several times.”

“Garret!” I punch his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He rubs his arm, laughing. “Because I knew you’d be pissed.”

“I’m not pissed at you for driving it. I’m pissed because you didn’t take me with you.”

“Well, I’m taking you now.” He kisses my cheek, then walks off. “Wait outside. I’ll go to the garage and bring it around front.”

Mr. Kensington bought me a brand new, white BMW convertible and gave it to me last week. It was a gift for finding his daughter, Lilly, when she ran off and got lost in the woods behind their house. Finding her is what landed me with stitches in my knee and a concussion.
 

Garret and I are taking my new car to California this summer. We’re living on the beach for three whole months. We still haven’t decided on a place, but we’ve narrowed down our options. We don’t want to be in a big city so we’re trying to find a place in one of the small coastal towns north of LA. Harper and her boyfriend, Sean, will be there, too. They’re hoping to get a place right next to ours so the four of us can hang out together all summer. I’m so excited about this summer. I just want it to hurry up and get here.

The car pulls up into the circular driveway and I get in the passenger side while Garret tucks my crutches in the back seat.

“Nice, huh?” He gets back in and speeds off.
 

“Really nice, but slow down a little.”

“I’m showing you what it can do.” He speeds up again once we’re past the gate.
 

“It goes fast. I get it. Now slow down or you’re going to get a ticket.”

“I get tickets all the time around here. The cops probably keep a stash of them already made out with my information. The speed limits in this town are way too slow.”

“Well, there’s another thing I didn’t know about you. You get too many speeding tickets.”

He swerves fast around a corner. “I like to think of it as supporting the city services.”

“Where are you taking us?”

“I’m going to that park where we went sledding. I’m guessing nobody’s there right now so we’ll have the entire parking lot to ourselves. You can test out the car without killing someone.”
 

“I’m not going to pass out while driving.”

“That’s not what the head trauma caregiver sheet said.”
 

The parking lot at Bryant Park is empty, just as he predicted. He gets out of the car and I climb over to the other side, not bothering to walk around the outside.
 

“Someone’s anxious to drive,” Garret says as he gets into the passenger side. “You shouldn’t climb over the middle like that. You could’ve hurt your knee.”

“My knee is fine.” Actually it does kind of hurt after bumping it on the steering wheel just now, but I’m not telling Garret that. It’s my left leg so at least I can still drive. I pull the seatbelt over me and adjust the seat. “I feel like I’m 16 again learning to drive in a parking lot.”
 

“Who taught you to drive?”
 

“Ryan did, in that old car of his. It’s so huge I felt like I was driving a bus.” I look over at Garret. “Hurry up. Put your seatbelt on.”

“I don’t need one to drive around a parking lot.”

“Yes you do. I might pass out.”

“Oh, now you believe me?” He reaches back for his seatbelt and clicks it in place.

I press on the gas and the car takes off so fast I have to hit the brakes before we run into the curb.
 

“And you thought
I
was a fast driver?” Garret’s hands are against the dashboard like he was bracing for a crash.

“I didn’t mean to do that. This gas pedal is really sensitive. You barely have to press down on it. Same with the brakes. With Ryan’s car, you had to press really hard.” I drive down the parking lot and turn around. “This steering wheel is so easy to move.”