Chapter 8: A Luncheon Date in the City
"That the new ring?" Jason asked Laura blandly, his face unreadable.
"Sure is," Laura extended her hand as though she expected Jason to hold it in order to examine the ring more closely. When she realized that wasn't going to happen, she scowled and reaching over with her right hand twisted the ring around, smiling happily as it flared in response to the movement. "Isn't it absolutely gorgeous?" She gushed, her obvious joy in her new possession making her look younger and more vulnerable for a brief moment. "All the girls have been so jealous and I know it must have cost a bundle, huh?" She gazed inquiringly at Jason who just stared expressionlessly back at her.
"It's big," was his only comment.
The new ring was the antithesis of the innate sophistication and delicacy of the original one. This ring was large and gaudy. It was encrusted with diamonds but Jason wondered if that was really what they were. True to her word, Diane showed up at the penthouse and gave a substantial cash refund to Spinelli who stared at her in bewilderment. She refused to show him the replacement ring saying he would be sure to see it next time he and his fiancée met. Jason clearly comprehended why Diane wanted to delay that occasion as long as possible. He could already see the consternation on his roommate's open countenance when he would finally catch sight of this monstrosity which was an insult to good taste. Jason thought it was quite possible that Diane had purchased this ring in some cut rate jewelry store which featured zirconium as a replacement for diamonds. It would be her subtle way of getting revenge for this girl's unforgivably slighting treatment of Spinelli and a small, mean part of Jason enjoyed being in on the trick.
"Oh, you ride a motorcycle!" Laura looked over Jason's shoulder at his bike pulled up against the curb, "Maybe after lunch you could take me on a ride to somewhere private," she said suggestively as she bumped his jean covered hip with her white clad one. Even Jason, perennially indifferent to fashion trends, had begun to notice the fact that she didn't appear to wear any other color.
"No," he said flatly, not even bothering to embellish his refusal.
"Oh, c'mon," she wheedled staring beguiling up at him while she flirtatiously blinked her thick and surrealistically long lashes which were overly lacquered with sticky mascara.
"Got something in your eye?" Jason asked indifferently as he reached over and firmly plucked her grasping hand off of his leather jacketed forearm.
Laura stared at him without comprehension, "No," she responded in a puzzled voice. Then as though she suddenly understood something, she smiled coquettishly and said, "Oh, I get it! You're scared Daddy will hear if we get up to something." Before Jason could correct her misapprehension, Laura turned around and spoke imperiously to a large, beefy man, dressed in jeans and a windbreaker, who was standing several feet away from them on the sidewalk. Yo, Dino," she called out to him, "You can go. Mr. Morgan here will see me safely home on his bike."
"Don't go anywhere, Dino," Jason immediately countermanded Laura's order. "We'll be out in under an hour and then you will accompany Miss. Maretti to her father's house."
Indignantly, Laura protested, "He's my guard, you can't tell him what to do." She turned back to the uncomfortable Dino and said in a voice that vibrated with steel undertones, "You're dismissed."
"Dino," Jason countered evenly, "If you're not out here ready to escort Miss. Maretti when she's ready to go, your boss will hear about it."
Dino nodded and glanced away, he was unwilling to meet Laura's furious gaze, "I'll be here waiting for Laura, I mean Miss. Maretti," he promised.
"Let's go eat," Jason said, taking Laura by her right arm, gripping it just above the elbow as he forced her to turn back toward the restaurant.
Laura vainly tried to shake his hand off but he was holding her in a grip which was strong enough that she thought it might produce bruising. Laura's lips curved up in a cruel smile as she shot a quick malevolent glance at Jason's face. She could envision her father's rage when she went to him crying, her sleeve torn and the nasty purple bruise clearly evident on her white skin. She would tell him how Jason Morgan, that brute of a man, had arranged for a lunch date and then taken her out through the back of the restaurant and tried to have his way with her in a filthy alley. Dino wouldn't say anything to contradict her story, he couldn't afford to because she could actually prove what Jason had done to her.
Suddenly a chill ran down Laura's spine as she once again looked up at Jason's face. This time he was staring directly back at her, his ice cold eyes boring into her mind, and she wondered how anyone could manage to keep a secret from that penetrating gaze. The smallest flicker of a smile crossed Jason's lips as he accurately registered the fear in her eyes and then he was politely holding the door open as he waited for her to precede him into the restaurant.
'I'll have years and years to pay him back,' Laura thought viciously as she outwardly smiled coyly at the man whom she blamed more than her father, more than Sonny Corinthos, and certainly more than that spineless drip of a fiancée, for the insufferable living nightmare within which she found herself immersed. Still, Laura was a pragmatist, she had needed to be in order to survive all these years residing in the dark, fetid world in which her father had raised her. She knew how to bide her time and if today's plan wasn't feasible another one would come along and then she would strike out in all her pent up fury and destroy Jason Morgan. Eventually, she would wreck them all and be the only one left standing, her and Paolo.
For now, she walked beside Jason, her small hand tucked confidingly in the crook of his arm. Ignoring both the taut muscles of his arm as an indicator of his dislike of her touch and the rapid way he walked, uncaring if she could keep up, she looked autocratically around as they entered the restaurant. This place was Laura's kingdom, here she was the queen bee and all the others eating and working in the cafe were simply worker bees and drones there to do her domineering bidding. Laura scurried to match Jason's long strides as they were led to her usual private nook deep in the heart of the restaurant. Still, even passing through at such an unusually rapid pace, she managed to nod genially at various tables and call out greetings as they breezed by.
"Gina, you look like you've lost weight!"
"Lydia, what a gorgeous shirt you're wearing!"
"Francesca, I love what you've done with your hair."
Eyes widened in amazement as the pair walked by and narrowed in envy as they passed by table after table, the two of them on display for the entire clientele to witness. It had been a long time since Laura was able to publicly display a man of hers and what was there to quibble about if Jason didn't precisely occupy that particular role anyway. Give her enough time and he would be captivated by her, give her enough time and he would be begging to spend all his free hours with her and she would be the one to spurn him. Yes, she realized as a warm glow of contentment flooded through her, causing her cheeks to color slightly creating a striking contrast against her usual ivory pallor, that would indeed be a supremely satisfying revenge plan. She knew men inside and out and the ones like Jason were defined only by one thing, their pride. Take that away from them and they might as well be dead, would actually prefer death to living without it.
So mollified was Laura by her successful procession through the restaurant past ranks of her dearest friends and enemies, all one and the same to her indiscriminate eye, that her mood was restored to its previous sunny parameters. Their unparalleled envious reception of her walking in on Jason's arm was every bit as gratifying as when she had previously envisioned the inhaled breath of each of those same women as she showed off the magnificent new ring. Yet, Laura was unexpectedly discovering that showing off a magnificent new man was a far more worthy social enterprise than merely demonstrating a new piece of jewelry, particularly when she contemplated the dweeb who had bestowed said jewelry upon her unwilling finger.
"Thank you, Tommy," she beamed at the young waiter who was holding out her chair for her to sit upon, "How are you?" She peeked at Jason but he wasn't evincing the slightest interest in her familiar exchange with the waiter.
"Fine, Miss. Laura and yourself?" He responded with scrupulous politeness as he carefully placed her napkin on her lap where it immediately blended in with her outfit.
"Can't you tell?" She said with a bubbly giggle as she nodded toward Jason who snorted in exasperation at her transparent attempt to make it appear as though they were a dating couple, "I'm doing great, Tommy, just great."
"That's terrific, Miss. Can I get you something to drink?" He was reverting to his professional role and his expression was almost a match to Jason's in its inscrutability.
"A White Russian," Laura snapped, her good humor evaporating almost as soon as it had reappeared. She must be off her game today if she couldn't even get a waiter to flirt with her.
Jason replied to Tommy's inquisitive tilt of his head with a brusque, "Beer, Grolsch if you've got it."
Tommy nodded, "We do, I'll be right back with your drinks."
Jason was curious and since it was rare enough that he even felt the sensation, he also found that he couldn't deny indulging it. "So, does it extend to what you eat too?"
Laura looked up from idly studying her nails as she determined if it was time for another manicure. "Does what extend to what I eat?" She answered vaguely until the realization of what he'd asked her penetrated her brain, "I'm not one of those bulimic girls if that's what you're implying." Now she was sitting up straight in her chair as indignation overtook her, "My figure is just naturally this way," she said gesturing at herself and neglecting to mention her breasts as they protruded outward in stark undeniable contradiction to her assertive contention, "I can eat whatever I want and not put on an ounce."
Jason was shaking his head impatiently, he almost chose not to pursue the topic but something within him refused to let it go, "No, that's not what I meant. I was just wondering, does everything you eat also have to be white?"
Laura frowned at him, she had no idea what he was talking about, "Eat only white food?" She echoed incredulously, "What kind of a crazy thing would that be to do? Anyway," now the concept had been broached she appeared to be oddly intrigued by it, "There isn't that much white food is there? Let's see, rice, mashed potatoes, tapioca…"
Jason sat hunched over the table, his elbows perched on the edge as he wearily ran his hands over his face,"You just had to ask didn't you?" He berated himself in an undertone as the litany across the table droned on uninterrupted.
"Your beer, sir." The frosty green bottle was placed in front of him with an equally frosty mug to keep it company.
Jason grabbed for the bottle, entirely foregoing the glass on offer, and rapidly swigged down several mouthfuls. With a sigh of contentment he placed the bottle back on the table and looked over at Tommy who was staring back at him with a shadow of a grin on his face while Laura glared across the table at Jason obviously displeased with his boorish behavior.
Tommy placed Laura's White Russian before her and stepping back, diplomatically addressed the air between the two of them, "Have you decided what you want to order?"
"A cheeseburger, medium rare, hold the onions," Jason said, handing the unopened menu back to the waiter.
"And for you, Miss?" Tommy turned his attention to Laura.
Laura tapped her index finger against her bottom lip as she stared reflectively at Jason, "What do you have that's white?" She inquired of Tommy without bothering to look at him.
Jason choked on the mouthful of beer he was swallowing, he spewed some of it on the table and the rest went down his trachea instead of his esophagus. He was coughing so hard that he momentarily lost awareness of his surroundings.
"Sir, sir are you all right?" Dimly Jason was aware that someone was pounding timidly on his back.
With a final hacking cough, he managed to sit upright and wave Tommy's anxious ministrations away, "I'm…fine," he croaked, reaching for the glass of water rather than the traitorous beer which had started it all.
Laura appeared entirely unperturbed by Jason's distress. She quirked her eyebrow at Tommy while tapping her fingernails impatiently on her menu, "Well?" She asked him, pulling his concentration away from Jason and back to her.
"Uh, well what?" Tommy asked her, his usual composure disrupted by the mini-drama of a customer almost choking to death.
"The food, what do you have in white today?" Laura gazed directly at him, it was clear that she was wholly serious in her inquiry.
Jason decided to intervene because one quick glance at Tommy's face told him that the waiter was utterly befuddled by the meaning of her question. "Miss. Maretti wishes to know what dishes on the menu contain white food."
His voice was still somewhat raspy as he translated Laura's odd request smoothly, years of experience of doing the exact same duty for Spinelli standing him in good stead. Jason leaned back in his chair and once more reached for his beer, taking only a small sip as he prepared to enjoy himself.
Tommy stared in disbelief at Jason, his expression plainly asking if he were serious but Jason just tilted his chin toward Laura as he took another swallow of beer. Tommy turned back to Laura and paused for a moment before trusting himself to speak. "White food, Miss. Laura, do you mean by that dishes such as vanilla ice cream and vichyossie?"
"What's vichyssoise?" Laura asked as she stumbled over the pronunciation of the unfamiliar word.
"It's a cold potato and leek soup," Tommy explained patiently as he mentally tagged this conversation as a definite entry in his 'Waiting Patiently', the memoir that he was sure would become a best seller once he actually got around to writing it.
"Ew!" Laura scrunched her nose up in disgust as she rejected the idea of eating such a disgusting concoction out of hand, even if it happened to fit the designated requirement of being a white food, "What else is there?" She asked stubbornly.
Jason had to admit once this girl got an idea in her head she pursued it with gusto. 'It's probably because she only has a few of them in there to begin with,' he thought uncharitably. After meeting Laura, he acknowledged that he needed to revise his opinion of Maxie's intellect; she looked like a Rhode's Scholar next to this girl. Yet, in Jason's fiercely partisan opinion, neither one of them was even close to an acceptable intellectual match for Spinelli.
"How about Fettuccine Alfredo," the waiter offered, his voice was was a study in neutrality but Jason noticed that Tommy's jaw was clenched with an occasional muscle twitch to underline his mounting aggravation with this all too specious conversation, "That's a very popular dish with our patrons who aren't on a diet and it certainly meets the white criteria."
"Oh, yes!" Laura beamed her approbation at him for making such an ideal suggestion, "I love Fettuccine Alfredo and I am certainly not on a diet," she preened, "Anyway, I'm sure Jason and I could come up with something to do after lunch which would burn off the extra calories." She sent a suggestive glance toward Jason which he actively ignored.
Tommy appeared not to notice the obvious subtext to Laura's comments or Jason's equally apparent disinterest in her. "Very well, that's one cheeseburger, medium-rare, no onion and an order of Fettucine Alfredo. Is there anything else you'd like, perhaps a salad to start with?"
Laura creased her brow as she peered up at him, "Are there any white salads available?"
Tommy actually thought about the ridiculous request for a moment as his mind ranged over the possible ingredients to be included in such an outlandish dish. Salad dressing wasn't a problem since they could use ranch or bleu cheese and he supposed there was white asparagus and maybe peeled radishes and...
Jason saved him from going insane through contemplating any more permutations of white food by sharply saying, "No, there aren't. Could I have another beer please?"
He held out the empty bottle for Tommy to take and mentally cursed Laura for having the ability to make him feel the need for another beer. He knew he could handle the alcohol that wasn't the issue but he didn't like the concept of another person's behavior being the cause for him wanting to have an additional drink. It deprived him of his most precious character trait-control over his actions and thereby his environment.
Jason wanted to get the purpose of this meeting over with. He was grateful for the fact that Laura's 'usual' table was tucked back in the restaurant behind a dividing half wall and further shielded from view by an assortment of luxuriant house plants. He knew full well that the separation from the larger dining area wasn't purely a mark of her father's influence or her need for privacy from the gaze of those less fortunate but more importantly a place where she could conduct her assignations under some pretense of anonymity.
Jason waited with ill concealed impatience for the arrival of the food. He couldn't broach the subject of the meeting until he was fairly sure they could talk without being interrupted for a while. If it had been anyone else but Laura, Jason would have been surprised that she didn't appear to have the slightest inquisitiveness as to why he had suggested this rendezvous. Predicated upon her words to Tommy, he surmised that she was still under the delusion that he was here to seduce her. Her ego seemed unaffected by his earlier rejection and it would appear she had ample experience in expecting a meal to be the foreplay in a meeting which inevitably culminated in sex.
He rubbed his fingers over his right temple in a vain attempt to assuage the pounding sensation which had started shortly after greeting Laura outside the restaurant. Jason was beginning to wonder how he was going to survive simply residing across the hall from this termagant. He didn't even want to imagine what it would be like for poor Spinelli actually having to endure living with her.
Laura didn't appear in the least to mind her lunch companion's dour silence. She chattered on about topics which were of no interest to him Unlike most people who would at least pretend to be listening, Jason didn't make false interjections of 'oh, really,' or 'do go on,' to hold up his end of the conversation. If she wanted to talk she could but that didn't mean he had to respond or even listen to her.
Finally, Tommy appeared with another waiter who was actually carrying the tray containing their lunches. He supervised the careful placement of the plates before asking, "Will there be anything else."
Both Laura and Jason shook their heads and he left them in peace to eat. The best thing about having food on the table was that Laura finally was quiet. She hadn't lied about liking to eat and not worrying about caloric content. He watched in wide-eyed disbelief as she practically inhaled the pasta immersed as it was in a cream and butter based sauce with a generous coating of Parmesan cheese on the surface.
Jason stared in amazement at Laura's speedily emptied plate, then with a shake of his head he refocused on the reason why he was here, "Okay," he started without preamble, "I wanted to meet with you in private to explain to you the ground rules regarding your relationship with Spinelli."
"Spinelli!" Laura said, her good mood evaporating as she immediately turned antagonistic, "I don't want to spend our time together talking about that jerk, it's bad enough, Daddy's making me marry him!"
Jason's eyes narrowed and he spoke with ill-concealed contempt, "Laura, I wouldn't be here having lunch with you if it weren't for the fact that you and Spinelli are getting married. There is no us spending time together. I needed to talk to you about my expectations for your behavior when you move to Port Charles."
"My behavior," Laura's voice was raising as she spoke, "Who are you to talk about my behavior, you kill people for a living!"
Jason winced as Laura practically shouted out the last several words, "Shut up!" He hissed, furious with himself for agreeing with Sam that having such a sensitive meeting at a neutral location was a wise idea.
Laura possessed no self control and she didn't care if she threw a tantrum in public but Jason did. He reached across the table and grabbed her wrist and twisted it until Laura's face contorted in pain and spontaneous tears formed in her eyes.
"You're hurting me!" She squeaked piteously.
"Then keep your voice down if you don't want a repeat experience." Jason warned her roughly.
Jason released her and sat back in his chair glowering at Laure while she rubbed her reddened wrist. The imprint of Jason's fingers was clearly marked on her delicate skin but this time her frightened mind had no interest in using the injury as a way to incense her father. She instinctively realized that it wouldn't be Jason who would come out the loser in a confrontation between the two men. She might be a lot of things but Laura still wasn't depraved enough to wish to be indirectly responsible for the heinous crime of patricide.
"Is there a problem?" Tommy's voice, courteous and guarded interrupted their staring contest.
"No, no problem at all," Jason responded calmly.
"Miss. Laura," Tommy turned toward her with something like concern showing on his usually blank face, "Are you all right?" He looked pointedly down at the discolored flesh of her wrist as he waited for her answer.
Laura blinked back her tears and shaking her head said in a subdued voice, "I'm fine Tommy, really." She tilted her head and stared up at him sending the waiter a look that Jason couldn't quite interpret.
"Would you like some dessert, perhaps some vanilla ice cream with marshmallow sauce?" He asked her gently, there was a slight teasing tone to his voice as he added, "All white, guaranteed."
Laura summoned up a wan smile, "That sounds yummy but maybe some other time. Mr. Morgan and I have some business to discuss and we don't want to be disturbed."
There was an echo of her usual demanding attitude in her response and for some reason that recognizable mannerism appeared to somehow reassure the waiter. Tommy nodded but before he left he sent Jason a quick glance of intense dislike. Yet, it wasn't the younger man's animosity which bothered Jason but rather a sudden flash of familiarity as though he had seen him somewhere before but he couldn't recall where or when.
Jason's very life depended on his acute awareness of both his surroundings and the people who populated them. He prodded his brain in an effort to remember the waiter, he knew for a fact he hadn't been in the restaurant before. He seldom came to New York and he would never voluntarily choose to eat in a venue which was so obviously geared to a female clientele.
"Well, what did you want to tell me?" Laura's impatient voice cut across his attempts to place their waiter against a different backdrop. "I thought you were in a big hurry to explain to me how I needed to behave myself up in the middle of nowhere."
Laura sounded like herself again, spoiled and self involved and Jason glared at her, irritated that she had intruded upon his attempt to remember Tommy. "Yeah, that's right," he confirmed, "When you marry Spinelli there will be expectations about how you act. You will not embarrass him or hurt him in any way."
"Or what?" She asked defiantly, her eyes sparkling with anger at Jason's ultimatum.
Jason sighed as he reluctantly reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. He wished Laura could have just this once been reasonable and tried to see that she wasn't the only one who was affected by this marriage but that Spinelli was also. Yet, he suddenly realized, it wasn't that she didn't know he was involved in their mutual future but that she simply didn't care about him or his concerns in the least. Well, Jason did care deeply about Spinelli and his happiness. So, it was up to him to try and make sure that this careless and impetuous young woman not damage his friend's self esteem or break his spirit. With renewed resolve, he pulled the small manila envelope out and passed it across the table to Laura.
"What's this?" She questioned, taking the envelope and opening the flap.
Jason didn't say anything, he just waited while she spilled the contents out onto the table and started looking through them. There were a few moments of silence as Laura absorbed the materials in front of her.
Suddenly, without warning, she reached across the table and slapped Jason, "You bastard!" Her expression was venomous.
Jason's cheek stung where Laura had hit him but the only indication of his anger at her attack was a slight twitch in a muscle below his right eye, "That's right," he said coolly, "I'm a bastard and I will do anything I have to protect Spinelli."
"Obviously that included invading my privacy without a second thought," Laura's voice quivered with outrage.
"Yeah, it did," Jason admitted unrepentantly, "I needed to know everything about you so I could decide what it would mean for Spinelli."
Laura looked back down at the pictures scattered on the table, she reached to pick up one and looking at it, she asked, "What do you intend to do with these? You can't send them to my father." It was a declarative statement but her voice trembled as she spoke.
"I'm not going to do anything with them beyond showing them to you for now," Jason replied.
She stared up at him, her eyes were huge in her face which was fully devoid of color except for the slight pink tinge of blush applied across her cheekbones, "What do you want me to do?"
Her voice was dull and defeated sounded and Jason felt a twinge of remorse. He didn't really like being in this position of blackmailing someone whose worst sin was being self-involved and reckless. Then he reminded himself that this was about Spinelli's future and to insure that was as happy as possible given the circumstances, he would do whatever was required of him.
"It's not that difficult," he told her, "You just have to follow the rules."
He was on the receiving end of one of Laura's patented glares but she might as well have saved her energy, Jason was impervious to someone's disapproval or dislike. In a long existence spent trying to avoid bullets and stay out of jail, nasty glances were of supreme indifference to him.
"What rules?" She asked him warily.
Jason used his fingers to begin to tick off his requirements, "You will be accompanied by guards, our guards," Jason added repressively as he saw a sudden glint of calculation appear in Laura's eyes, he ignored the scowl on her face as he continued, "Everywhere you go and they will be instructed to tell me if you behave in an inappropriate fashion."
"What does that mean-inappropriate?" Laura interjected suspiciously.
"Anything in these pictures for instance," Jason tapped a photograph, "Would be considered as such. Going to bars and hotels in the company with strange men isn't acceptable conduct. Drinking to excess and partaking of any type of illegal substance won't be tolerated."
"You can't police my life!" Laura was indignant, "Even my father doesn't do that."
"You mean he doesn't know what you do," Jason apprehended the truth as he saw the flush of anger at being caught out color Laura's cheeks. "It won't be like that around me. I don't trust you and you've been warned that I will be watching you myself and also through my men."
"All right, I won't party anymore. Is that all then?" Laura asked sullenly,
Laura's easy compliance with his dictates troubled Jason but that wasn't the only thing which concerned him about this confrontation. Her patent resentment toward Jason's strictures indicated that he had made a new enemy and he worried she might take her pique out on an unsuspecting Spinelli. "No, there's more that has to do specifically with Spinelli. You need to treat him with the same courtesy and respect that he will show you."
"What the hell is so special about him that you and that lady lawyer and all those people at lunch are so fucking concerned about protecting him?" Laura stared in frustration at Jason.
Jason shrugged, he wasn't' about to try and explain Spinelli special qualities to this woman, even though she was his putative fiancée. "He's a good person and people are loyal to him. There's no benefit to him for marrying you, especially considering how you've treated him. Yet, he's doing it because he thinks it will help other people not the least of which is you."
"Help me?" Laura scoffed, her face contorted and ugly, "That's rich, none of this is to help me. It's about business for you and Mr. Corinthos. Then there's my father who is managing to kill two birds with one stone by making an alliance and getting rid of me at the same time." She paused for a moment and then added, "I can just guess what is in it for your precious Damian. After all, without paying for it, an arranged marriage is probably his only hope of ever getting laid." To illustrate her point, she made a crude gesture with her hands which left nothing to the imagination.
Jason was furious. He was beginning to think she wore only white to deflect attention away from the fact that she was nothing more than a bitch in heat. "No," he said fiercely, "That's where you're wrong in measuring everyone against your own standards. He feels sorry for you. I only wish I could manage to show him who you are before you get married because he sure as hell is going to find out afterwards."
"If you care about him so much and you want to protect him from me, then why are you promoting this stupid wedding in the first place?" Laura's tone wasalmost pleading as though Jason could resolve Spinelli's untenable situation and, in the process, release her as well.
Jason shook his head, "I don't want it but Sonny has convinced Spinelli that he needs to go ahead with this because it's important to people he wants to help and cares about."
"Help you, is what you mean" Laura said with her own shrewd flash of insight, "That's why you're so desperate to protect him because you feel guilty that he's caught in this position." There was a tinge of regret in her voice as though she wished there were someone in her world who would do battle for her the way Jason was doing for Spinelli.
Jason just stared at her, his emotions and thus, by default, his face once more under control. "You won't intentionally hurt or cause Spinelli embarrassment," he repeated flatly.
Laura cocked her head and looked at him cynically, "You can't force me to love him."
"I don't want you to love him," Jason's tone was calculated to imply that Laura's love was something which would contaminate Spinelli were he to even be exposed to it, "I need you to live with him in a way that makes sure he doesn't end up regretting marrying you."
"What about my regrets?" Laura asked, her tone a self-pitying whine, "It's my marriage too."
Jason stared across the table at the young woman and for a minute he saw an echo of a small, blonde girl with big blue eyes crying in vain for a mother who never came, "I can't help you," he said with an oddly gentle finality.
Laura's body stiffened in automatic rejection of his compassion. Her face hardened and became a female version of Jason's, all sharp angles and implacable planes. "What exactly will you do if I make your golden boy unhappy?"
Her challenge was blatant and Jason responded immediately, "Then I'll use these," he flicked his fingers at one of the pictures sprawled on the table between them.
"You can't show them to my father," Laura repeated her statement from earlier but now her voice quavered, "He would just repress them." She bit her lip as she looked at Jason in a weak attempt at defiance.
He nodded in easy agreement, "I know and that isn't what I would do with them. I'd send them to the papers."
Laura blanched, "You can't do that," she whispered all her bravado instantaneously evaporating at Jason's words. "He'd kill me."
Jason didn't doubt that her conclusion was valid. He briefly wondered what it would be like to reside in the world which ran parallel to his shadow existence. The one where parents loved their children and protected them rather than using them as pawns in their own self-aggrandizement. He thought it must have compensations to override its biggest drawback of boredom. He guessed that if he could have avoided all the trauma Michael had endured, save Spinelli from this loveless union and maybe even prevent Laura from being literally sacrificed on the altar of her father's ambition and greed that perhaps he might have made the trade. Still, that wasn't his call, he could only do the best he could in this world, it was far too late to switch over.
He just regarded Laura calmly, not responding to her alteration in combativeness or attempting to assuage her fear. Laura was greatly agitated, the tears which had threatened earlier were back leaving black trails of miserable, futile fury down her cheeks. She twisted her hands and released some of her pent up rage by grabbing several of the pictures and savagely ripping them into glossy pieces of confetti. Jason sat unmoved as she vented her feelings of being trapped and manipulated. He only required one thing of Laura and once he received it this meeting would be over.
Several minutes later, the worst of the storm was passed. Laura's spontaneous emotional outburst was over. She sat tiredly n her chair, her breasts heaving as she panted from her exertions and the occasional hiccupping sob escaped from her. The table surface was entirely coated with torn up pieces of photographs and white fragments of documents.
"All right," Laura said in a toneless voice, "I'll do as you want." She picked up her napkin first blowing her nose with it and then after folding it over wiped her face on the fresh part. She stared down at the streaks of black coating the white linen. "I look a mess," she stated it as an indifferent fact.
Jason looked at her keenly as though to determine the sincerity of her commitment. "You know I mean it?" He required clarification before letting her go.
Laura nodded dully, "I know it," she confirmed without any elaboration.
It was the best he could do to safeguard Spinelli while he endured this difficult period in his life. Jason didn't think it would be for that long. One way or another he couldn't see this marriage lasting, it would break apart from a combination of internal and external pressures and he was determined that Spinelli would come out it as unscathed as possible.
"Can I go?" Laura's asked in a small, defeated voice.
"Yeah," Jason reached for his wallet and threw several bills on the table. "Let's get out of here." He stood up and waited for Laura.
She pushed away from the table and then standing up she straightened her pantsuit and brushed her hair back from her face. "I'm ready," she announced looking Jason squarely in the face.
He felt an unwilling twinge of admiration for her as she stalked ahead of him passing through the restaurant looking neither right nor left. He trailed behind her and could hear low voices pitched to precisely catch their attention.
"I guess there's trouble in paradise."
"She looks an absolute wreck."
"If he doesn't want Laura, and who could blame him, I'm entirely available."
Finally, they made their way out of that stifling, poisonous atmosphere and were once again breathing the preferred city air filled with nothing more toxic than exhaust fumes.
"I guess I'll have to cross that place off my list of restaurants," Laura said to Jason as they stood shoulder to shoulder in an awkward and temporary camaraderie generated by their mutual survival of the gauntlet.
He gave a small smile of approval indicating respect for her resilience, "It's no loss, you can get a much better burger at Kelly's and for half the cost." He couldn't resist adding, "Of course it comes in the usual hamburger colors, no white except for the onion and the mayonnaise."
For the first time in their short and mutually antagonistic acquaintance, Laura genuinely laughed. It was an open-mouthed, full-bellied laugh and Jason felt a sudden pang of regret that such a lovely girl was hidden behind the hard shell of a woman who felt the only thing she had to offer the world was her physical assets. "I'll have to check it out. I think maybe the white thing was just an experiment anyway." She was gracious in accepting his teasing. Laura moved away toward Dino who was standing by the curb and holding the car door open for her. Laura turned back and gave a quick, almost shy wave. "Bye," she called before ducking into the car where she was instantly shielded from Jason's view by the tinting on the windows.
Jason shook his head in honest bemusement. He wasn't sure if he appreciated the softening of his feelings toward Spinelli's fiancée. With a sigh of relief he turned toward his motorcycle faithfully awaiting him. More than ever he was glad he had chosen this mode of transportation. He hoped the ride home in the fresh spring air would clear his mind and bring all aspects of this damnable situation into a clearer perspective.
Surveying the mess left behind on the table, Tommy grimaced irritably. Sighing he started sweeping the torn pieces of photographs and paper off the table and onto the tray he brought along to collect the dirty plates and utensils. He knocked a spoon off the table and it bounced under the table. Crouching down to retrieve it, Tommy saw a forgotten picture lying on the floor. Curious, he reached for it and backing out from under the table looked at the photograph with a puzzled frown.
It was a candid shot of Laura Maretti and a man leaning up against the brick wall of an ill-lit alley. The couple was kissing, a deep mouthed exchange of tongues. Laura's white-clad back was to the photographer but the man's face was plainly visible, a dramatic study in black and white as half his face lurked in shadow and the other half was dimly highlighted.
"What the hell?" Tommy muttered under his breath as he stared down at the picture of himself and Laura making out after a night spent drinking and dancing at a long succession of steadily seedier night clubs.
He wondered who that man was accompanying Laura today. It was obvious these pictures were the reason he was so upset but why should she be? She was young and unattached; she could date whoever she wanted to, even a low rent waiter for the temporary, the very temporary-it appeared-thrill of it.
The last thing Tommy did before he left the now cleaned table was to scoop up the pile of bills Jason had left behind. "At least the son of a bitch is a good tipper," he admitted as he headed back to the kitchen.
"Hold me close and hold me fast, the magic spell you cast, this is la vie en rose."
Jason looked over at Spinelli, his singing had aroused him from his memories of the past several months. "What's that you're singing?" He asked curiously.
Spinelli shot a startled glance at Jason, his expression was dazed. "What did you say, Stone Cold?" It was clear that just like Jason, he had been lost in his own thoughts.
"The song, what is it?" He repeated as the rich notes of a trumpet filled the air between them and then rose into the air and trailed behind the speeding car in an auditory emission.
"Oh," Spinelli nodded his head in comprehension, a reflective smile on his face, "It's called 'La Vie En Rose' and this version by Satchmo is second only to the immortal styling of the original songstress, the sparrow, Edith Piaf which she naturally would sing in French."
"Naturally," Jason said automatically, most of what Spinelli had related to him sweeping over his head in a similar fashion to which the air around the convertible flowed over the windscreen and past the passengers, creating a zone of reasonable quietude and stillness. "It's pretty," he added to show that he was engaged in the conversation.
"Pretty!" Spinelli uttered scornfully, "The Jackal would beg to differ with such a trite characterization. It is a musical anthem about love and longing phrased with deceptively simple lyrics and a stirring melody to create a timeless standard which will be honored by lovers for generations to come."
Jason smiled at Spinelli's response, he'd missed his roommate and it was nice to fall back into the usual conversational patterns between the two of them. "Yeah," he said grinning, "Like I said, it's pretty."
An irritated snort erupted from his passenger, but when Jason glanced over at him there was a contented expression on Spinelli's face as he finished singing the song. His tuneful tenor acted as the perfect counterpart to Louis Armstrong's raspy but iconic voice, "Give your heart and soul to me and life will always be, la vie en rose."
As they sped down the road heading back to Port Charles, Jason felt a renewed resolve to find a way to release Spinelli from this detrimental engagement. Spinelli's argument that there wasn't any reason to not marry Laura Maretti was, as of this evening, suddenly null and void. It was evident that his interaction with Molly Davis had altered everything. The signs were all too clear to be missed, Spinelli was infatuated with her and Jason couldn't be more delighted with his change in attitude.
There was an elegant logic to the potential match and Jason was going to do everything he could to encourage their connection while at the same time diminishing and destroying the other, which in reality was little more than a glorified business arrangement. All that Jason cared about was Spinelli's ultimate happiness and he would do whatever he could do to ensure it. After years of receiving unstinting loyalty and friendship from the younger man, it was the least Jason owed him. Yet, for just this moment, for just tonight, it was enough to simply to have hope for the future reignited and a present satisfaction in having his family reunited.
A/N Reviews are appreciated