Chapter 12: Clary gets to know Jonathan a bit. She likes him, ok, but feels like she knows him from somewhere…Jonboy is really laying it on thick. He is such a good liar... Can he control his impulses enough to be able to play his Father's game? What is Valentine's game about anyway? AND, *cleans off glasses* Is that Amatis? Dude… Enjoy!
I do not own any of the characters, only the illustrious Cassandra Clare owns them. I do, however, own this particular story, so please don't be lame and copy/paste it elsewhere.
Previously: "You look so much like your mother… I was so sorry to hear of her passing. She was a rare talent and from what I have heard, a beautiful soul."
The car ride over to Morgenstern International Industries was pleasant for Clary. Jonathan was friendly, a bit flirty, but they chatted easily. He made her feel comfortable and seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her. She couldn't help but think he looked familiar, like they'd met before…and he was ridiculously good looking. He could be a model. Clary was certain he had no issues finding female companionship and had definitely noticed how he looked at her when they met. Jace had noticed too. He can be so territorial.
She was rather impressed with Jonathan's educational accomplishments and knowledge of the arts. It was refreshing to talk to someone around her age that understood such concepts and philosophies. Jonathan Morgenstern was a proud Cambridge grad who multi-majored in History and Politics, Philosophy, and The Classics, with concentrations in Modern and Medieval Languages and Greek and Roman Art. Like his father, he fluently spoke several languages. He apparently was into Aikido, fencing, rugby, soccer, and wrestling too. He's kind of an ass kicker. He didn't come off as egotistical or braggy about his successes, just matter of fact. Clary liked that. Own it, Morgenstern.
He really checked all of the Jocelyn Fray-Garroway boxes for the perfect son-in-law. Her mom would be planning the wedding already, Clary thought to herself and rolled her eyes. He had been very interested in learning about her studies in Art History and Classics at NYU and actually asked real, in depth questions. Clary often found her friends, and even Jace zoning out when she talked about her artistic interests. He had ramped up the flirting a bit, which Clary ignored, for the most part. Jonathan Morgenstern was hot (and he knew it), successful, and perfect for her, it seemed. But he's not Jace Herondale. Nobody is.
Jonathan pulled into the valet parking at Morgenstern Industries. He hurried around the car, cutting a look at the valet before he could open Clary's door. The man quickly backed off and Jonathan opened the door, helping Clary from the car. Stepping close to her as he shut the door behind her. Did he just smell my hair? Obvious much? She was no stranger to men taking an interest in her. But, being raised in Brooklyn and the daughter of a cop, Clary knew she could handle herself. Jonathan was not being inappropriate, by any means. But, he was definitely throwing it out at her. We've just met. Although there is something about him…familiar? They silently walked together through the vast lobby to the elevators. Jonathan pressed the up button and smiled, humming as they waited. Clary was feeling a little nervous about the meeting and suddenly got warm. She turned away from him, unbuttoned her coat and started to take it off.
She felt Jonathan's hands rest on her shoulders and she jumped violently. "Oh…I'm sorry, Clarissa. I didn't mean to startle you", he murmured near her ear, in his strange light accent. Probably Idrian, like his dad. "I'm just helping with your coat. I'm afraid, as a Morgenstern, I was trained diligently in many disciplines, proper etiquette among them. Please let me know if I'm annoying you." He deftly slid her coat down her arms, folded it over his arm, and stepped back. She heard him inhale deeply behind her.
Clary turned and looked up at him, smiled, and laughed nervously. She placed her hand on his arm reassuringly. "No worries, Jonathan. I just don't like to be touched, when I'm not aware…expectinging it, I guess. Ever since– ever since…I think I have butterflies about the meeting. I must look frazzled." Ever since Halloween…when some freak tried to rape and kidnap me. I wish I could remember his disgusting face. Jonathan looked back at her with a confused look on his face. She turned to her reflection in the elevator door and ran both hands through her hair, feeling it fall against her back and swish around her waist. Better. She caught Jonathan's eyes in the reflection and stilled. He stared at her the way Jace often did. When he wants me. Not gonna happen. He does look so familiar. He opened his mouth to say something, when the elevator dinged, and the doors opened.
Clary cleared her throat as they boarded. "Were you going to say something, Jonathan?" She asked. He unwrapped his scarf from his neck, letting it hang down on either side of his broad chest. He lightly licked his lips, and gave her a small smile. "I was just going to say that you look beautiful. The purple, your dress…or rather aubergine really compliments your emerald eyes. I've noticed your mother used many variations of purples and greens in her paintings." He cleared his throat nervously. Clary smoothed the sides of her dress with her palms and smiled at him. "Thank you so much. She, my mother, actually gave me this dress for Christmas last year. I've never worn it." Is he flustered? Am I? Shit. He knew the exact shade of my dress. Impressive.
He pressed the "PH" button after entering a code into the keypad and Clary felt the elevator quickly rise and her legs suddenly felt wobbly in her heels. He quickly leaned close to her and wrapped a steadying arm around her waist. "The elevators really jump fast. Are you okay?" His hand lingered for a second and she felt him lightly rub her lower back when he removed his arm. His eyes flicked quickly over her chest. She shivered. Stop it.
Clary smiled and nodded, blushing heavily."I-I'm fine." She moved to the other side of the elevator and leaned against the wall. What the fuck is wrong with me. This guy is flustering me. Can we get to the penthouse already? Stop being such a chick, Fray.
As if he heard her thoughts, Jonathan looked thoughtful, then reached his hand out to the keypad and quickly entered a code. Clary felt the elevator slow down and stop. What the fuck…She furrowed her brows and looked at Jonathan, confused. He stepped across the elevator and placed his arms on either side of her on the handrails and looked down at her appraisingly. He looked at her cleavage, then roamed his eyes over her face. Clary swallowed. He hummed in his throat and spoke low, "Am I making you nervous, Clarissa? Hmm? You don't remember me, do you?"
Clary frowned and looked up into his eyes, put her hands on his chest and gently, but firmly pushed him out of her personal space. "Slow your roll, Morgenstern. You're kind of coming on strong. You know I have a boyfriend and I'm no cheater, if that's where you think this is going. All that aside, you do seem familiar— what are you talking about? Have we met?" Clary crossed her arms over her chest.
Jonathan raised his hands in front of him, with his palms towards her. He laughed gently and swallowed, avoiding her gaze. Embarrassed? "So sorry… I think I must have misread things. Of course I know you have a boyfriend…I mean you're perfect, of course you do. I was just hoping you weren't very serious with your detective, I suppose. Please forgive me." He shrugged as if to say I had to try… "So, anyway, yes we have met. We, um, literally bumped into each other at the airport in late August. I was walking to baggage pickup after arriving from Idris when a beautiful little redhead smacked right into my chest. That was you. You spilled your bag and I helped you gather your things…I guess I didn't leave much of an impression. I've thought of you a lot since then." Shit! That's where I know him from…that day. That horrible day. He had been so helpful and nice.
Clary sighed and shook her head. "Oh Jonathan." His head snapped up when she spoke his name and he looked into her eyes. "Of course…I knew I recognized you from somewhere. I think it's your eyes. It's like I've looked into them before... They're so unique. I had kind of forgotten about meeting you." Her voice began to shake. I'm going to fucking cry. Don't. Shit. "You see, it was the day I found out about…" She swallowed, her chest tightened. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over, her voice quaked. "I found out about the fire and my mother and father– just moments after you and I ran into each other. Shit. Sorry!"
He looked down at her in shock and raised his eyebrows in sympathy. "Oh god. I'm so sorry, Clarissa. I had no idea it was that day. I– come here, love." He stepped up to her and pulled her against his chest in a gentle embrace, rubbing his hands up and down her back as she quietly cried into his chest."Shh, sweetheart. It's okay. This has to be a lot. I mean the prospect of seeing your mother's art and then I screw everything up, try to woo you, and end up reminding you of your worst day." She sniffled, gaining some control back, her tears ebbing. I'm so embarrassed. Get your shit together, Fray.
Jonathan pulled back, and cupped her face in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. "Clarissa, I am deeply sorry for the pain I have caused you. I truly am. I hope we can be friends, love." Clary looked back into his eyes and nodded. It was a pretty serious apology for such a thing. It was almost like he was apologizing to someone he had wronged greatly. He seemed to really mean it and Clary felt a tentative bond grow between them...a warmth towards him. He ran his hand over her back again, stroking her hair. He stepped back and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, handing it to her. "I guess my game is shit…or non-existent." He half-smiled humorously.
Clary laughed and nodded, dabbing at her eyes."Your game is pretty shitty…making girls cry, just to get a hug." She joked. "But seriously, Jonathan. Please don't worry yourself. You had no idea. I think you're right. I'm definitely extra emotional today. I got triggered, I guess. I've had a lot happen recently and I get pretty reactive sometimes. None of which is your fault, okay?" He didn't look surprised at the last part of her confession.
Clary licked her lips and continued. "I'm better now... and don't worry, Jonathan, of course we can be friends. I mean look how much we already have in common." She laughed quietly. Looking at her reflection on the elevator door, she cleaned up her smudged eye makeup and reapplied her lip gloss. Jonathan leaned back against the wall and watched her, looking thoughtful. She realized her necklace had spun around under her hair, she pulled it back around and let it fall.
The diamond-studded star glittered in the elevator lights as it settled back down on her chest. She turned and faced him and smiled warmly. "Thank you for…um, comforting me. I'm sure having a blubbery woman hanging on you wasn't very fun…Why don't we head to the meeting now."
Jonathan locked his eyes on her pendant. His eyebrows raised and he grinned."Of course. I'd like to be able to comfort you, if you ever need it. Blubber away. That's what friends are for…to be there for each other, Clarissa. I haven't had many friends, you know. Let's get to that meeting." He punched another code in the keypad and the elevator resumed its ascension.
Valentine Morgenstern looked out over Manhattan, from the spotless windows of his penthouse. "Are we clear about the details, Amatis? She must be thoroughly convinced to come to Idris. Let's cultivate the mystery for her. I want her to be so curious, she won't be able to resist exploring her legacy. It's time she meets her long lost aunt. Of course you'll have to tell her all about her father and mother…how they had an affair and broke my heart…and the rest, as we…discussed."
He heard her clear her throat behind him, "Of course Valentine. I know exactly what to do. She will be in Idris as soon as I can make it happen. I will not disappoint you again."
"See that you don't, Amatis." He turned and looked at Amatis Graymark, his longtime business associate, art broker, and sister of the recently deceased Lucian Graymark…Chief Luke Garroway.
She had her traitorous brother's icy blue eyes, stood almost six feet tall, and short light brown hair. She was stone cold, merciless, and loyal; qualities Valentine appreciated in his employees. At least he had thought she was loyal…she had kept quite a secret from him for the past two decades. Her niece, Clarissa Fray.
Amatis and Lucian were the last of the Graymark family, a lesser dynasty from Idris. They had been associates within Morgenstern's secret criminal organization, back when Valentine first took it over from his father. A few years after that, it came out that Lucian was actually a mole for British Intelligence and disappeared with Jocelyn. Of course Valentine had been quite suspicious of Amatis. He had her tortured for days to see if she was a traitor like her brother. She passed all tests of loyalty, before Valentine fully allowed her back into the inner circle of his empire. Her last test was the betrayal of her own brother two years later.
When Luke Garroway secretly reached out to her, to check on her welfare and ask her to come live in America, she had immediately reported the contact to Valentine. Jocelyn had already divorced Valentine and he had since murdered the Fairchilds, so he had decided to keep this information for later use. He ordered Amatis to stay in contact with Lucian and report on Jocelyn over the years when asked. Because of Amatis, he was able to keep tabs on her for years, which had dwindled over time, as he slowly got over his obsession with his ex wife and didn't ask for more. He had collected much of her artwork, though…as much as he could get. But somehow he had never learned about Clarissa until this summer.
By happenstance of fate, he stumbled upon Jocelyn's daughter in Rome and his dormant obsession and thirst for revenge reawakened. Amatis had never mentioned to Valentine that Jocelyn and Luke had a child. It was so obvious that she was Jocelyn' ordering Jonathan and his men to watch the young redhead in Rome, he returned to Idris and confronted Amatis. He had her tortured again, of course. She ended up telling him that Lucian had told her about the girl many years ago, but she feared for the child's safety. She divulged that Jocelyn didn't know if Valentine was Clarissa's father or Lucian. Amatis had feared the child could be taken by Morgenstern enemies and used against Valentine. She had begged for mercy and told him she could help him get the girl, if he would spare her. Weak, self-serving bitch. Valentine had taken her up on her offer and his planning began.
Valentine had already considered the possibility that Clarissa was his daughter the first time he saw her. He had certainly made love to his beautiful wife frequently enough, before she ran from him. Apparently, so had his best friend Lucian. Based on Clarissa's age, Jocelyn must have been barely pregnant when they left. At the Amsterdam airport, in August, Valentine had taken Clarissa's coffee cup and had her DNA analyzed against his own and Graymark's.
After he received the news from Jonathan of Jocelyn's accidental death in the fire (that he had ordered), Valentine fell into a guilty despair. To cover for his idiot son, he had found a dirty, weak NYPD detective Hodge Starkweather, to destroy evidence in the investigation. It had cost him a lot of money, many threats and promises to the influenceable (powers that be) in New York City. But, he had managed to get the buffoon Starkweather placed as Chief of Detectives, replacing the beloved, tragically killed Chief Garroway. It was really poetic that Garroway's replacement destroyed any chance of solving the case that killed him and closed it. Check, Lucian.
He had so much regret over what had happened to his Jocelyn. Had she suffered? Was she frightened? He had punished his son, whipping him mercilessly for his mistake. He had been surprised how accepting Jonathan was and how many lashings he had taken before losing consciousness. Valentine had been rather proud of him. Morgenstern men are made of steel…
When he saw Clarissa in Rome, he felt the fates had given him another chance to have Jocelyn again. He had wanted Clarissa to be his daughter so badly. His and Jocelyn's…his second chance. It was not to be, however. The test results reported that Lucian Fucking Graymark– Luke Fucking Garroway was Clarissa's father. It broke his heart all over again, but hardened his resolve. Another thought occurred to him. Clarissa may not be a Morgenstern, but she was a full Idrian. The Graymarks were not as high a pedigree as the Morgensterns or Fairchilds were in his country's dwindled aristocracy, but they were still High Idrian. Besides himself, Clarissa may be the highest, most pure Idrian in existence. More than Jonathan even because of his bitch mother Lilith Verlac…the Verlac's were low Idrian, practically mundane peasants. But Jonathan is a Morgenstern man, virile and powerful like me. If Jonathan and Clarissa were married, the superior Morgenstern family line would be fortified with their purer blood. Whatever it takes, Clarissa Fairchild will become a Morgenstern. Checkmate, Lucian.
The telltale ding of the elevator arriving alerted Valentine to the arrival of his son and Clarissa. He had coached his son to charm the young woman, woo her, romance her... Make her want to belong to their world. He was aware, via his spies, that Clarissa was newly in a relationship with Detective Herondale. That would have to end for his plans to work. He would work on that after this meeting. He heard Jonathan and Clarissa talking jovially in the foyer and smiled.
He walked out to greet them and froze when he saw Clarissa. She had her arm wrapped around Jonathan's arm, her other hand on her chest as she laughed at whatever joke his son had just whispered in her ear. She was a sight to behold in a purple dress, swathed in cashmere, her crimson hair fanning around her body as she shook her head in response to Jonathan's humor. She was Jocelyn reincarnated. He felt his younger, buried heart begin to pound…that's when he saw it. Laying, as if in wait for his eyes alone, was the Morgenstern, "Morning Star" pendant he had designed for his Jocelyn over twenty-five years ago for their engagement. He smiled to himself, running his eyes over Clarissa. Maybe this won't be as hard as I thought.