I don't own anything!
Chapter Nine
Looking around while Jasper pulled a chair out and seated Bella, the sterile-clean restaurant caused memories to return from years previously when she was ten-years-old.
The restaurant had not changed much. The worn polished floor tiles gave off a waxy shine much as they had when she was last there. The winter-white walls boasted aged looking paintings of yellow and green prairies, horses, and cowboys that Bella remembered seeing the first time she and her parents ate there. Ancient fans overhead, which she recalled, whirred lazily, the season still too cool for air conditioning.
Somehow, it felt familiar and safe here, the family atmosphere causing Bella to feel not quite so homeless. Jasper took a seat across from Bella, and the waitress rushed over with two glasses of water. She greeted Jasper as Jazz, and took their order for coffee, which she brought back shortly.
Without the business atmosphere of Jasper's office, Bella was more aware of his presence; the manly quality of his voice, his erect posture, his darkly tanned face with long dark lashes and brows, his strong, capable hands with fine black hairs edging his knuckles, and the aristocratic features of his face. The soft scent of his aftershave lotion wafted to her nostrils, a spicy smell that was both pleasant and appealing.
He possessed calmness, unlike Edward's aggressive manner.
"A penny for your thoughts," Jasper remarked with a hint at humour. He was watching the pulse at her throat beating rhythmically against her creamy, faintly tanned complexion. She sent him a rueful smile.
"You would be short-changed I'm afraid." The sight of her pleased Jasper, and her secrets invited his curiosity and interest.
"Tell me about your father," he said, and watched her smile fade. A contemplative mood washed over her lovely face. The auburn-gold hair bounced conspicuously with each movement.
She measured her words as she lifted her chin, taking in every angle, line, and the texture of his face. Then her eyes softened with gentle regret.
"Both my father and mother were killed in an car accident more than five years ago. It happened soon after Dad visited here," she replied softly.
"I'm sorry."
"It's all right," she said, a half-smile faint on her lips at a distant thought. "Mom and Dad were both wonderful parents and left me with many happy memories."
And lots of money, Jasper thought cynically while his eyes lit on her wide, sensuous, full ripe lips. Her smile, when exhibited in a more pleasant mood, could probably charm a lion. She was beautiful, one of those helpless women men loved assisting. He should know. He knew her for less than an hour, and was already obsessed with her.
She probably had known her share of pampering, he thought. The diamond rings worn earlier, and the diamond encrusted watch she still wore were strong evidence of that notion. Bella glanced about the restaurant, seeing a light friendliness displayed amongst the patrons.
"I've been here before. It was a long time ago, but I recall this restaurant well."
"It's an old establishment and draws a good number of locals as well as travellers from the interstate. When were you here?"
"I was only ten years old. It was years ago. I met your father then, but I had totally forgotten about this place until now. In fact, my parents and I visited here with Mr Hale over coffee and coke for me."
"How is it our fathers knew each other?"
"Dad mentioned that they were friends in college. Dad was a Harvard man."
"So was my father. It is interesting they kept in touch after all those years. Anyway, what brings you back to Windy Point?"
"I explained that to you. Before my father died, he told me Mr Hale would help me if ever I needed to depend upon someone."
"I'm afraid I don't understand. Why would you need to depend upon anyone?" She studied him critically for several seconds before answering, deciding she had no other choice but to put her trust in him.
"I'm running away from someone, Mr Hale. My father had the foresight to suspect something like this might happen. It is why he opened the account for me in your bank. I ran away because I fear for my life. That is why I was afraid to give you information about myself? Perhaps I'm paranoiac, but I don't want to share information that might lead someone to me."
"I assure you, Miss Swan, that you can trust me just as much as you were prepared to trust my father. Your secrets are safe with me."
Something caught in his chest as she smiled at him then, and he swore it was a million dollar smile even if it was only gratefulness—or maybe just relief. Her lips quivered, giving the impression she was near tears. Vulnerable fool that he was to a pretty woman's smile, the strong masculine urge to comfort and protect was having a field day.
"Thank you," she said simply, inclining her head, her long lashes, darkened with mascara, fanning her high cheeks.
"You're welcome, but I do have a simple request," he said, drawing her attention to his face.
"What?"
"Do you think we could drop the titles? My name is Jasper." He extended his hand across the table, and her slender fingers curved about his.
"I'm Bella," she said, feeling the warm strength of his hand enclosing hers.
Tiny vibrations of heat caused a slow shiver to crawl along her spine. The handclasp made her aware of him, not just as a banker, but rather, as a virile and compelling man, whose blue eyes warmed enticingly.
The handclasp continued too long, and she noticed Jasper's palms were rough with calluses. She wondered how that was possible when he worked in a bank. She pulled her hand back, becoming self-conscious to discover she liked his touch, which seemed somehow gentle.
I'm literally starved for human compassion, Bella thought. The years of verbal, physical and sexual abuse had left her feeling like a cold, empty shell of a woman. Edward had accused her of being an iceberg, and she had no doubt that his abuse had turned her into one.
She often wondered if she would ever know real pleasure in intimacy. Was she incapable of reaching that pinnacle she had heard was one of the most satisfying pleasures between a man and a woman? Would she hate sex with any man, the way she hated it with Edward.
With a sigh, she knew it didn't matter. She certainly had no intention of finding out. That area of her life was now retired.
She lowered her head, staring into her coffee cup. She was tired and weary, unbalanced by too many problems that distance from Edward had not resolved.
The handclasp left Jasper feeling a sudden sense of kinship with Bella and a desire to know her better. Actually, he credited the interest to his rather strong libido—and maybe even to a need for companionship. Those same two reasons made him, like most bachelors, a sucker for a beautiful woman.
"What are your plans, Bella?" Jasper enquired, hoping to acquire more information about her. So far, all he knew was her name, and that her father had established an account for her in his bank. Suddenly showing up on the threshold of his office clutching a duffel bag, and no indication of where she came from, she might have been from Mars for all he knew.
"My plans?" she echoed his question. "I need to find a house, buy a car, and maybe get a job later on."
"What kind of job are you looking for?" A confused frown crossed her brow, and she turned up her lips as if something smelled bad.
"I don't know," she said, embarrassed. "I've never worked before." Just then, she laughed, a sparkling, tinkling sound that was extremely pleasant to Jasper's ears. "I suppose an employer wouldn't find my résumé of much value."
"Maybe I can help."
"Mr Hale, that's exactly what I've been asking for— your help. I need a checking account."
"Jasper," he reminded her. "Please call me Jasper. I believe I explained that you needed to contact Mr Mason."
"Yes, you did explain that; however, I need assurance you won't put information about me on some computer database, where someone can easily pinpoint my whereabouts. I am not very expert at any of this. I have never run away before. I have never handled money before. In fact, I have never gone anywhere alone until I travelled here. I do need to depend on someone, and since it cannot be your father, it has to be you. I simply need to keep a low profile, and while I do trust Carlisle Mason, I am afraid to call him for fear of putting him in jeopardy.
"If this all sounds dramatic, it's because you don't know all the details. I just know I can never go back to where I came from, and that choice might not continue to be mine if my whereabouts become known." She looked at him in bewilderment, hoping for his understanding. Searching his rather poker-face expression, she continued.
"I have identification—a driver's license, but it also has an address on it that I don't want to share because if it got in the wrong hands, it could mean my life. Now, do you understand, Jasper?"
"I think I'm beginning to get the picture," he replied, her disclosure indicating how vulnerable she was. "I'm a good listener if you need someone to talk to," he offered.
Bella studied him. His face had strength and character, and more than conventional good looks, but he was still a stranger, and she was reluctant to put all her trust in him.
"Thanks, I'll remember that." Bella noticed he had not shown any indication of changing his mind about her calling Carlisle. Like with everything else, she seemed to have limited options when it came to banking.
The duffle bag set on a chair next to her. She reached over, and clutched the handle for several seconds, thoughtfully considering an idea. Finally, she set it on the floor beneath the table, nudging Jasper's knees with it.
"I'd like for you to take this," she directed, staring into his sky-blue eyes. When he hesitated, she said, "Please take it." He watched her with a puzzled frown, but he lifted it, noticing how heavy it was. Pushing his chair back a few inches, he set the duffel bag on his lap, all the while staring at Bella questioningly.
"Well, now what?" he asked, waiting for further instructions.
"Open it," she told him sitting forward expectantly. Jasper undid the clasp, and opened the bag. He saw clothing on top, visually examined it, and then lifted a lacy bra just high enough for Bella to see what he was doing. A grin curled his lips while he waited for her reaction.
"This is very nice, but I don't exactly understand why you want me to look at it." Bella's face turned crimson.
"Push the clothing aside." she retorted, sitting on the edge of her chair and watching his face. He was a banker, so she did not expect him to be shocked at what the duffel bag contained, but he was—big time.
"Jesus H Christ!" he exclaimed loudly, drawing stares from around the room. He snapped the duffel bag shut, turning an intense speculating gaze upon her. "You've been walking around with this?" he remarked disbelievingly in a strong whisper that drew more stares from nearby. "Don't you have better sense than this?" he added, appalled, and setting the bag at his feet. Bella felt his gaze sweep over her like invisible hands.
"Yes, I have been walking around with it, and yes, I do have good sense, but some things can't be helped. I would like to deposit it in your bank. I have the withdrawal slips."
"There must be a million dollars or more here," he whispered. His blue eyes danced from her face down to her throat, her breast, then back up again. He stared at her lips.
She traced his face with her eyes, distracted by his dark sensual gaze that swept over her.
"Will you let me deposit it?" she asked timidly, feeling her heart beating much too fast as he continued staring at her. He shook his head with disbelief. A sardonic grin slowly traced across his handsome lips, and his white teeth flashed with a pearly sparkle as he spoke.
"I suppose I'll have to if for no other reason than to keep you from being robbed, bludgeoned and killed. Bella, whatever possessed you to carry around cash? You could have gotten a cashier's check, you know." He sounded like a father speaking to his child. Her voice raised an octave or two.
"I told you I've never handled money before, but I do know checks can be traced. I did what I thought was best." He laughed softly, it more an expression of astonishment than humour.
"I can see why your father would want to send you to my father." Outrage exploded in her brain. She might be inexperienced, but she wasn't stupid. She had lived with mockery for five years with Edward. She was not about to idly accept it from an insolent stranger.
"I thank you not to make fun of me," she said contemptuously, reaching for her purse, prepared to say to hell with Jasper Hale, at least for the time being. His hand shot across the table and covered her hand.
"I'm sorry. I was out of line. I simply couldn't believe you've been walking around with this." He held his hand on hers until her shoulders relaxed. "Exactly what kind of business was your father in?" he questioned, his eyes twinkling with a kind of idle amusement.
"I wasn't exactly walking around with it. I was riding a bus. To answer your question, my father was one of those big-shot lawyers who took all the cases no one else wanted, and he charged big bucks for getting his clients off. He was never short on capital or financial security, but he worked very hard to earn it. He was honest, too, and I don't appreciate any implication to the contrary."
"I'm sorry again. You have a right to correct me. Tell me about the accident."
"The car he and my mother were in was crushed by a tractor-trailer while stopped at a traffic light." A faraway expression flickered inaudibly while she spoke with a vulnerable quiver on her lips.
"Was the driver of the tractor-trailer charged?" Jasper watched the play of emotions across her features.
"He disappeared into the crowd, and couldn't be traced. The owner of the truck could not be traced either. The vehicle identification number had been destroyed, the license plate was missing and there was no owner registration." That sounded suspicious, Jasper thought.
"Do you believe it was an accident?" Bella trained her eyes on his evenly, and shook her head, shrugging her shoulders.
"I don't know. I keep thinking it likely was not an accident. All I know is that I don't want to end up the same way." She became aware that Jasper Hale was drawing her out, getting her to say far more than she intended.
Jasper understood the implication. His eyes warmed with kindness. He suddenly had the crazy desire to hold her until there was no more sadness in her chocolate brown eyes. Perhaps he was over-reacting, but she was the first presentable woman he had met since leaving San Francisco. Alice, his occasional companion, in a rather bizarre, one-sided relationship, did not really count.
"If my father were here, I know he would help you in any way he could. He was the kind of man willing to do anything for his friends. I'll help you however I can."
Bella raised her chin, staring at him in quick appreciation. Her eyes turned to brown pools of moisture, which she hurriedly dashed away with deft fingers. When she spoke, a noticeable quiver strained her voice. She nodded her head.
"Thanks, that's a big weight off my shoulders. Carrying all that money around frightened me half to death. I feel as though I haven't slept for days due to being afraid to do more than doze while riding on buses." Jasper touched her arm briefly, his voice suddenly gentle.
"Why don't we go back to the bank and take care of business?" He tossed a bill on the table, and standing, lifted the duffel bag, offering Bella his other hand. She took it. Rising from her chair, she felt warm vibrations ooze sensation from his hand to hers. He had a strong hand, callused and rough, but it felt good. She briefly clung to it, then let go.
She walked alongside Jasper Hale, slightly intoxicated by faint whiffs of his aftershave lotion or cologne. He was several inches taller than she was, and was dressed in a grey business suit similar to ones Edward sometimes wore.
She could not help but mentally compare them. Jasper was much younger than Edward was, his body a sculpture of proud masculine muscle and brawn, while Edward was growing a paunch and gaining weight.
Jasper wore no wedding band, so Bella supposed he must be single. Warmth crept through her veins and stole up her cheeks as she felt his eyes watching her. However, the fleeting reminder of why she was here sent a cold shudder through her system.
"Would you like to check your safety deposit box?" he inquired when they entered the bank.
"Yes, if it's permissible." He took her back to the vault himself, carrying the box to a small room for her.
When he started to go, she stopped him, unconsciously needing his nearness for support. It never crossed her mind that she might be keeping him from other duties. Nevertheless, he did say he would help her. Having him close was more comforting than she wanted to admit. He made her feel a little less alone. Oddly, placing trust in someone had that effect.
"Don't go," she said, when he turned to leave.
"Are you sure?"
"Would you mind?"
"No, of course not."
She opened the box, and while the contents did not surprise her, she heard Jasper suck in a big breath of air. The box contained cash, old money handled and passed through numerous hands.
Bella glanced up at Jasper, and he shook his head in amazement, suddenly wondering where so much money came from, and having some second thoughts about her depositing it in an account in his bank. It wasn't unusual for questionable persons to stash dirty money from drug sales in safety deposit boxes.