6
Gisele
“Is thereanything else I can get to make you comfortable?” Jared strode in the bedroom situated at the back of the jet where I’d been trying to sleep for the past three hours to noavail.
He found me staring holes into the ceiling, donning only my robe. My eyes dropped, only to connect with cerulean blues, studying him with openscrutiny.
“Why are you doing this?” I found myself asking. “You’ve said you needed my vote. You have it. So, why, Jared? I don’t get why you’re willing to sacrificeyourself.”
“Your father wished it of me. He’s done so much for me…This is his last wish…You know I’d do anything to make him ecstatic,Gisele.”
“You’re sacrificing a lot to achieve suchresults.”
“I owe him my life,” he said as if it was explanation enough. “Do you have any reservations? If so, I’d like to address them now before wegethome.”
As if I’d ever turn him down. Or my father at that. “I’ll follow what my father asks of me; don’t doubt that for a second. But what I want to ask is, why can’t we try to make this into a real one, Jared? Maybe not right away, but maybe later on when things aren’t so crazyaroundus…”
“A real one?” he appeared perplexed, as if the thought never occurredtohim.
“Yes, the wholeshebang.”
“I don’t knowaboutthat…”
“Why not? Am I not pretty enough for you?” Amongst other things. I knew the answer, but I asked,anyway.
He paused before vehemently shaking his head. “No, it’s not that, but I have needs I doubt you cansatisfy.”
“I can learn topleaseyou.”
“Gisele, please don’t take this as an insult…but I don’t see you that way. You are so young, and I need a woman,notagirl.”
A girl. He saw me as a girl. I sighed loudly, swallowing the bitter rejection before making a small nod, never wanting to open that can of wormsagain.
“Is there anything else you want to discuss further, apart from where I’ll be spending some of mynights?”
“I think I’m goodfornow.”
I finally get to have my wish, but I’ll only get the icing, not the cake, I bitterly thought as I tried to swallow the lump that had been lodged in the back of my throat since I had found him standing there in my bedroom. And there was the surprise pregnancy issue. Though Jack was meticulous in wearing protection, was there a possibility of it being Jared’s? After all, the man didn’t wear one thatnight.
The moment we landed, calling for an appointment had to be a priority. I’d rather sort this out and figure out how far into the pregnancy I was. Maybe then I’d get a clearer picture. If it turned out to be Jack’s, should I bothertellinghim?
The trivial matters could wait. My father and the appointment were far more critical than weighing in on Jack being a capablefather.
“Papa?”I called out the moment I heard the door secured behind me. Carl Orff’s “Carmina Burana” softly echoed in the background. Knowing how my father functioned, the song would be on a loop until he was ready to retire fortheday.
The entire house had cameras in every corner. The second we entered the gate, he’d have been alerted already. He’d beenexpectingme.
The security in this house was top notch. There was a safe room on every floor. Each bedroom had one. There was no switch in our home. Each room functioned with voice commands. Each section had authorized voice encryptions, and if it weren’t recognized, the security that littered the grounds would be immediately alerted. My father wasn’t a paranoid man, but ever since he began accepting government funded projects on the side a few years back, things drastically changed. He was cautious; working with the government entailed the dangers of our national security if his projects got leaked or hacked. My father once alluded that he could be the world’s greatest hacker…until Jared came along and proved himotherwise.
Jared St. James was the son he never had. He found joy and camaraderie with him, whereas with me, I was the daughter he kept at arm’s length after his wife died. If I hadn’t been so crazy about Jared, I’d have probably resented his relationship with my father. But I had no ill feelings whatsoever. Truth be told, I was glad he had Jared in his life. Had it not been for Jared’s keeping a close eye on him, he’d have probably wasted his life on other things than working incessant hours at theheadquarters.
Peter Weber Technologies, Inc.—or Web, as the consumers preferred call it. The mammoth company in Silicon Valley referred to as ‘the headquarters’ or “the campus”tosome.
One would expect a sick man in bed, waiting for the floodgates of Heaven to welcome him, but no, that was not how the renowned Peter Weber intendedtogo.
He sat on a black leather wingback chair, dressed in his preferred all black ensemble, sole concentration aimed at his white expanse of a work desk, one hand on a keyboard with 3D digital layouts across the screen while the other went over the small device in his hand, which connected to another screen. Data encryptions sporadically updated every minuteorso.
“We’re developing this new project for the NSA. It’s still in the early stages…I hope to finish it before I go,” I heard him say as I gradually approached him. There was no tremor in his voice, only clear determination. If he was saddened about his present terminal condition, there was no indicationatall.