TOUCH ME SOFTLY (3 page)

Several minutes went by and I found myself day dreaming about Jareth.
If I had reacted differently, where would we be right now? Would I be in his arms?
The thought of his hands gently caressing my pearly, white skin sent goose bumps popping all over my body. I sat down on the edge of the couch in the parlor and closed my eyes. Slowly, my mind painted a picture, Jareth leading me into his bedroom. Reaching the bed, he turns to face me as he pulls me closer. Never saying a word, his hand rises to my cheek and caresses me as our lips draw closer and closer. Finally, ever so softly, they touch and Jareth's fingers softly dance over my skin as they drift down my neck. Again, goose bumps explode over my entire body as if it was a cascading, chemical reaction and I could feel my desire for Jareth growing deep inside me.

Suddenly, my whimsical, sexual fantasy was shattered. "Miss Wittmyer," Jareth called my name from behind the closed French doors. "I'm coming out now and I wouldn't want to scare you again," he laughed.

"Very funny," I answered sarcastically. "There's several comedy clubs in the city... Maybe you should try an open mic night."

Jareth answered my comments with his own sarcastic laugh as he swung open the doors and walked into the parlor. "By all means Miss Wittmyer, make your self at home," he smiled.

Instantly, I stood. "I'm sorry."

"It's a joke," Jareth said. "Relax. We're not at your office," he added as he strolled towards the dining area of the suite. "Can I offer you something to drink? Some wine, maybe?"

"Sure. A glass of wine sounds nice," I said following him.

"Please," Jareth gestured towards a chair. "Sit down. I've already order room service and it should be here shortly," I smiled as he handed me a glass of red wine. "So, Miss Wittmyer, tell me a little about yourself," Jareth smiled as he measured the scent of the wine.

For the next twenty minutes, my life was an open book to him. I told him almost everything there was to know. My hopes, my dreams and even my sorrow's. The way listened as I described my heartache when I lost my father touched me. It was as if he was feeling my pain with me. Truth be told, it felt good to talk openly about his loss. I had never opened my heart to anyone about such matters, not even Cindy, my best friend. Finally, our lunch arrived and I thought it would be a good time to ask Jareth some questions.

"Well, I've told you everything there is to know about me — tell me something about you," I tilted my eyes up from my Caesar salad to meet his.

"What is it that you would like to know, Miss Wittmyer?"

"To begin with, stop calling me that. Call me Quin. After all, you make me call you Jareth," I giggled slightly. "And as for my question... I've got so many."

"Simple... Start with just one," he said.

"Hmm, let's see. Okay, how old are you?" I snickered a bit.

"Age, huh. What is it about numbers that people get so hung up on?" He looked at me with an intent gaze. "What I mean is: does a person’s age truly change anything about that person? Or is age a construct that holds us all back in some way?"

"Wow. That's deep," I stared back at him as I leaned in closer. "But you didn't answer my question," I smiled sarcastically.

Jareth leaned away from the table and set his glass down slowly. "You're good," he said. "How old do you think I am?" He asked with more a serious tone to his voice.

"Now-now. That wasn't the question either, Mr. Summerfield."

"Well, it appears I'm not going to get out of this one," he leaned in closer to me as he picked up his wine glass, sipping it slowly. "I'm twenty-five years old, Quin."

"Really, I thought you might be younger," I said. Just then, Jareth's cell phone rang and he answered.

"Bonjour. Avez-vous envoyé ce que j'ai demandé?" he said in French. "Accrochez-vous. Im pas le seul." Jareth set the phone down and turned back to me. "Quin, I'm sorry to do have to do this, but I'm afraid I must cut our lunch short," He smiled with an apologetic tilt of his head. "This call will take some time and I must take it," he added.

"Jareth, I completely understand," I said as I stood. "This sort of thing happens all the time in business," I added as he walked me to the elevator. "Are we still meeting for dinner?" I asked.

"Absolutely," he said as the elevator doors closed.

Chapter Three

My fascination with Jareth
Summerfield helped the rest of my day go by quickly. Five o'clock rolled around before I realized it. I spent all day searching Google, Yahoo and any other halfway, respectable search engine for the slightest bit of information about him. I found nothing, not even an honorable mention on someone's Facebook page.
How can someone live in today's world and not have the smallest digital footprint? I can Google my eight year old nephew and get at least three results.
I pondered.

After packing up briefcase, I grabbed my purse and stopped for the day. Making the hike to where I parked my car gave me time to think.
How could I learn more about him?
Then it came to me...I could call Robert. Being a police officer, he would surely have access to information I didn't have. I never asked him for such a favor, and was unsure if he would help me. But at this point, I was desperate. The second I reached my car, I tossed my briefcase in the backseat and reached into my purse, searching for my cell phone. I didn't have a second to waste. In a few hours, I would once again, be face to face with Jareth Summerfield. I was determined to learn more about him before our diner together. Sitting there, waiting for Robert to answer his phone drove me crazy. Finally, on the fourth ring, Robert answered. "Rob, its Quin. I have an important favor," I said quickly.

A snide laughed echoed over the phone. "Wow. You're really going to ask me for a favor after throwing me out of your bed?" He asked in an irritated tone.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. If it weren’t important, I wouldn't ask.

"Whatever... So what's this important favor?"

"I had a meeting with a new client today, and there's something about him that bugged me a little. And you know how I am; I tried to look him up on the Internet, but came up empty."

Robert let out a sarcastic laugh. "That must have driven you nuts," he said as he continued laughing.

"Rob, you don't get it... I found nothing on him. I searched all day and didn't find a single thing about him," I stressed to him. "Is there any way you could help if I gave you is name?"

"What the hell do you want me to do?"

"I don't know, run his name through your police computers. Find out whatever you can about him," I begged.

"I could run him... What's his name, date of birth and address?"

"Shit. You need all that info?" I asked.

"No, but it would ensure I get the right results."

"All I have is his name. It's Jareth Summerfield, oh, and he's twenty-five years old," I said.

"Not a lot to go, but I'll try," he said. "The only good thing is the name... It's unusual so I might be able to find out something. How do you spell it?"

"J-A-R-E-T-H and Summerfield is spelled how it sounds. And Rob... Thank you."

"Well, don't get too excited. It’s still a long shot, okay."

I felt horrible knowing that I was using Roberts’s feelings for me to ask a favor from him, but it was important. At least that's what I told myself. Robert had been in love with me since we first dated years ago. The problem was I didn't feel the same way. Yes, I loved him. Unfortunately, not with the same passion, he had for me and it felt wrong to keep each other from finding that same passion. He was a great guy and surely, there was a girl out there that would love him equally. Unfortunately, it wasn't me.

My drive home felt as if it took forever. Everything was magnified and my nerves were on edge. Every traffic light, every slow down, the entire drive felt like it was in slow motion. All I wanted was for Robert to call me back and tell me something about Jareth. It didn't have to be mind blowing; I would take anything he could find. When I arrived home, I was more than a little surprised to see Rob's navy blue police car parked out front.
Had he really found out something that fast?
I quickly parked and ran inside, so fast that I broke a heal on my way. "Rob," I yelled out as I opened my front door. "Did you find anything?"

"You need to come in here and sit down," he answered me from the living room.

Walking into the living room, I noticed Cindy sitting on the far side of the room in her rickety, old rocking chair. Her brother, Robert, stood in front of the fireplace; arms crossed and in his police uniform he had a commanding presence. "Quin, sit down for a minute," he said.

"Rob, what is it?" I asked as I sat down and crossed my legs. "What did you find?"

"Who is this guy?" He asked.

"I told you... He's a new client at the firm," I said as I stood and walked towards Robert. "He came in this morning and I wanted to know more about him."

"Well, I ran his name through every database available to law enforcement and didn't get a single hit on his name," Robert sighed. "Do understand what that means?" He asked.

"That he's a good guy" I laughed.

"What the fuck, don't you get it? He has no drivers’ licenses in any country. He has no criminal or civil record. Shit, I even called a friend of mine at the FBI and his search came up dry," Robert said with suspicion. "Are you sure this guy is real?" He added sarcastically.

"Calm down. I can assure you... He is real," I smiled as I turned to Cindy and mouthed the words real hot. "Just forget about it," I announced. "I don't have time for all this bullshit anyway. I'm meeting him for dinner tonight to go over his case and I'll just ask him what I want to know." Trying to avoid Roberts tendency to be a little on the over protective side, I turned and walked out of the room. My time was limited and I needed to get upstairs and start getting ready for my meeting. I already decided what I was going to wear; a beautiful Versace strapless that I picked up a few days ago. Mostly black, but with a splash of white, yellow and green on the upper right side, it was silk and laid perfectly on my body. As dresses go, it wasn’t the most conservative outfit I owned, but under the circumstances... Well, I thought I could get away with it.

Jumping out of the shower, I quickly wiped the steam from the mirror and started brushing my teeth.
How to do my hair tonight? Should I wear it up? Should I straighten it?
Finally, I decided on the natural look. Throughout my life, people always complimented me on how beautiful my black hair looked against my pale, opal-shaded skin. So I thought, why not go natural. After prancing around the house for an hour, trying to get ready as fast as possible, I was done. As I reached for my purse, I noticed the time on my cell. It was twenty minutes until nine. In a panic, I scurried down the stairs. The loud clip-clop of my heals echoed through the house, announcing my departure.

"Have fun on your date," Cindy yelled out from the living room as I walked by.

"It's not a date. Its work," I shouted back, slamming the door behind me.

Chapter Four

After an exhausting day of fruitless research, I was looking forward to seeing Jareth. At the very least, I would get some answers. Learning even the slightest amount of information about him would be better than
nothing would. As I walked into the hotel dining room, I spotted Jareth sitting at the bar. Captivated, I simply stood there staring at him as if he was a museum piece. His strong, lean physique - the line of his jaw as it rose into his high cheekbones — the confidence that poured off him like a mountain waterfall was too much. Instantly, my palms became clammy with sweat.
Calm down. He's just another client.
I thought to myself, just as I was interrupted.

"Excuse me Miss. May I help you find someone?" The young host inquired.