The man in the grey coat tensed as the light rail let out a shriek. Before he could brace himself against the pole, the car shuddered, and the shrieking sounds only increased in volume. The entire car jumped off the track and crashed into the ground, the screams of the other passengers just breaking through the pain of being thrown into the front of the car. Glass broke, metal tore and twisted. Pain, death. Blood.
Jessamine let out a gasp, drawing the attention of the man in the grey coat and a few other passengers. She blinked and shook her head to clear it. The car was fine. The light rail was safe. It was ridiculous to think it would jump the track. She eyed the man in the grey coat. he clutched the pole so hard his knuckles turned white. His fear of a crash was so intense that Jessamine was surprised no one else could feel it. It unnerved her. She usually couldn’t tell what a person’s fears were, let alone had visions of them. The man’s fear was so blatant, so intense that it invaded her head. She closed her eyes and tried to think of something else. She moved a bit closer to the man, who stood in front of her, and let out a breath. She thought about peace, about safe, solid ground. Skin to skin contact was preferable, but under the circumstances out of the question. She didn’t like having the man’s visions in her head. It seemed very intrusive. LIke she was delving into his mind without permission.
She normally wouldn’t calm a stranger without permission, but his fear was so acute she couldn’t help but want to help. She sent her peaceful thoughts towards the man. It was difficult with the swaying train and lack of physical contact, but it was enough to take the edge off his fear. He loosened his grip on the pole. The waves of fear and anxiety abated. He didn’t know what had calmed him, that she was sure of. She couldn’t see his face. She wanted to know if he was bewildered or grateful. Or both.
The light rail came to a smooth stop, and the man rushed off, briefcase in hand. Jessamine watched him go for a moment before remembering she had to get off the train too. She jumped off clutching her backpack to her chest, her long brown hair nearly getting caught in the doors. That would have definitely been embarrassing, she thought as she raced through the turnstile.
The car was waiting for her outside of the station. She hustled towards hit, nearly tripping over her heel. The chauffeur smiled at her. “Good afternoon, miss,” he said.
“Good afternoon, Charlie,” she replied. He nodded and opened the car door. She slid in, still holding her backpack.
“You’re late, Jessie.”
Her own smile faded as she looked up. The man sitting across from her stared at her in expectation. Daly always was a stickler for punctuality. “I’m sorry. The light rail was off schedule, and-”
Daly waved a hand, dismissing her explanation. Jessamine ducked her head. “I suppose that can’t be helped. Your mother told me this morning that you’re doing well at your job.”
Jessamine bit her lip and hazarded another glance at Daly. He was very thin, and his high cheekbones made him look almost gaunt. He was all sharp angles, though he wasn’t bad looking. His hair was cut in a slightly longer style than one would assume, and the dark strands fell into his eyes, giving him a perpetual brooding air.
“It’s going fine,” she said at last.
Daly gave her that scrutinizing glance, the one she could never quite figure out. Daly was impossible to read. She never sensed fear from him, which was frightening enough for her. Everyone had fears, even if she didn’t know the particulars.
“You don’t have to, you know. I told your father that you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. He said you insisted.”
“We’ve been over this, Daly,” Jessamine said. “You know why I’m working at Corsan’s.”
Daly’s lips twitched. Jessamine looked back down at her hands.
“It sends a peculiar message. One I’m willing to put up with for now. But when we’re married, you’ll have a certain image to uphold. Many women, hell, many people, would be thrilled at having the life I’m giving you.”
Jessamine nodded.
Daly let out a sigh, the first show of emotion she’d seen since she climbed into the limousine. “Jessie. Don’t act like this is going to be a great burden, please. I assure you it won’t be.”
Jessamine said nothing. She knew better.
“I am glad you decided to stay the weekend with me. I think it will be good for you.”
It took everything within her not to say anything. It hadn’t been her decision. None of it had, but he already knew that. He knew more about the situation than she did.
“I wish you would have let me bring my own things,” she said after a moment.
“I have everything you need waiting for you.” Daly smiled then, and it looked so unnatural on his face that Jessamine wanted to say something smart. She would have, if it had been anyone but him.
“I don’t understand why you insist on dressing like that when you can wear better.”
“I didn’t want to wear something expensive on the train,” she replied.
“It’s not like we can’t get it cleaned or repaired. This is exactly what I’m talking about. You think too frugally for how you were raised, for how my wife should be.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Daly shook his head. “I suppose it’s admirable. You don’t like waste. I don’t like waste either, in certain aspects of my life. Indulge me this weekend, though.”
“I don’t think I have a choice.”
Daly narrowed his eyes at her, but chose not to say anything. Jessamine nearly breathed a sigh of relief. She felt so much younger than her twenty-two years whenever she was with Daly. She felt sixteen again. Sixteen and scared to death when her father introduced her to the older guy who was going to marry her. Even at age 21, Daly had been remarkably self-possessed and goal oriented. He was bigger, intimidating, and utterly sure of his place in the world.
That only increased in the six years since they’d met. It also made Jessamine utterly terrified of him.
Daly lapsed into silence the rest of the ride, and Jessamine was grateful. How cruel that she had the power to calm fears for everyone but herself.
The mansion lay outside of the city, just close enough that it wasn’t too long of a drive for some culture, but far enough away that it wasn’t inundated with the chaos. In fact, the beautiful house and grounds were the only things Jessamine was looking forward to in her marriage to Daly. He had good taste, she had to admit. He expected a certain image, but he wasn’t flashy. She could appreciate that, at least a little. Charlie drove up the long drive, and parked right at the front door. he opened the door and helped her out. Daly followed right behind, waving Charlie off as he did so. A young woman stepped out of the door, as if she’d been waiting for their arrival. She was dressed much more professionally than Jeassmine’s jeans and sandals, with a black pencil skirt and a ruffled silk top.
“Did you get those contracts?” Daly asked, not even looking up as he brushed past the woman.
“Yes. Daly, they’re trying to weasel out of the terms.”
Daly let out a heavy sigh and turned back to look at Jessamine. “Columbina, take her to her room. I’ll deal with the contracts.”
“They’re on your desk. Hello again, Jessamine.”
“Hi,” Jessamine said, a ghost of a smile on her face. She’d only met the older woman once, and very briefly.
Daly hadn’t spared another word for either of them, and soon Jessamine found herself following Columbina up a set of stairs to the guest wing. “Everyone’s been going mad getting ready for you,” Columbina said in a conversational tone. “Especially when we found out you wouldn’t be sharing a room with Daly.”
“Oh. I didn’t mean to be any trouble.”
“Please, no need to be so reticent.” Columbina shrugged. “It’s really not any trouble, at least not any more than usual. Daly has strict standards for his help, so it’s not difficult, just not what anyone was truly expecting. Anyway, your room is on the second floor. No one else is staying here at the moment, so you’ll have the hall to yourself.” Columbina opened the door to one of the rooms. Jessamine walked in. It was huge, much bigger than her room in her parents’ penthouse. She saw a bathroom through a cracked door.
“It’s beautiful,” she said after a moment.
“Your clothes are in the closet and drawers. Your mother sent us all of your sizes. We have soap and other toiletries in the bathroom, but feel free to use your own. I know how it is when you get attached to your brand of conditioner.” Columbina smiled and touched her perfectly combed brown hair.
Columbina’s phone buzzed, and the woman started. Jessamine felt a wave of fear, slight, but strong nonetheless. She watched as Columbina checked it, and the wave strengthened for half a heartbeat then dissipated. “I have to go talk to Daly about this. Dinner is in an hour. We dress. Pick anything you want. Make yourself comfortable.”
“Thank you, Columbina, you’ve been very kind.”
“You’re quite welcome, Jessamine. You can call me Callie, if you like. It was the least stupid sounding nickname I could come up with when I was a kid, and it stuck.”
Jessamine smiled as Columbina left the room. She let out a sigh of relief. That went better than she expected. She knew very little about Daly’s personal assistant. It seemed the woman knew far more about Jessamine than she might have been comfortable with. At least she was kind on the surface.
The closet was a bit emptier than Jessamine might have assumed. Only five dresses hung up. Perhaps Daly was waiting for her to pick out her own clothing? She didn’t bet on it. Instead, she picked out the most colorful dress. It was a robin’s egg blue, in a simple a-line style that ended at her knees and with a neckline in back that swooped down. She shimmied out of her jeans and shirt and pulled it on over her head. Her hair was a staticky mess, so she retrieved her hairbrush and went into the bathroom to brush it out. Even for a guest room, the accommodations were lush. It felt like she was living someone else’s life, even standing there brushing her hair. Jessamine was used to fine things, but Daly thrived on them.
Once her hair was in order, she went back into the room, found a pair of black strappy heels in the closet and sat down at the oak desk pushed under a window. She looked down over the courtyard. In the deepening twilight, she could see a couple men walking the perimeter of the property. Daly’s private security. She shook her head and set about putting on the shoes.
The urge to explore the estate was strong, but she was too cautious to actually do so. She didn’t know where she was allowed to go and what she was allowed to do. For the fiance of the master of the house, she felt surprisingly useless. Even Columbina had more sway than her, and she was an employee.
She killed time by writing a letter to her sister, though she knew email would have been faster. Once she was through a few pages, she set down the pen and headed out the door. Her mind was still awhirl with her letter, and she didn’t notice that she nearly bumped into Daly at the top of the staircase.
“Jessie,” he said, a bit too sharply. “Please be careful, you’ll break your neck on the stairs.”
She stopped short of her fiance and let out a breath. “I’m sorry, I was preoccupied.”
“You look nice,” he said, ignoring her excuse. He took her hand in his. “Columbina did well picking that dress out. It matches your eyes nicely.”
“Thank you, and yes she did. She has good taste.”
Daly smirked but said nothing more as he led her down the stairs. Jessamine looked from him to the foyer of the house. Three men, a woman, and Columbina stood in a loose circle. Columbina handed each person a thick manila envelope and spoke in low tones.
“What good timing,” Daly said, loud enough for the little group to hear. “Gentleman, Stacy, I”d like to introduce you to my fiancee Jessamine Petit.” He dropped her hand to go whisper something into Columbina’s ear.
Jessamine wondered if these were the people trying to weasel out of the contract’s terms, but she didn’t have time to dwell on that as the oldest man, in late middle age, stepped forward to shake his hands. “Pleasure to meet the famous Jessamine. I”m Georges Hannock.”
The next man had dark skin and kind eyes. He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, miss,” he said in a thick accent. Jessamine couldn’t place it, and she was too nervous to ask where he was from. “I’m Faraji.”
The third man was the biggest of the three, and the only word Jessamine could think to describe him was viking. Tall, muscular, long blonde hair in need of cutting, and a jaw in need of shaving, he had dark blue eyes and a hooded expression. He wore a suit like the other two men, but he looked like he'd be more at home in battle armor. When she reached to shake his hand, she felt the slightest tremblings of fear just before she touched him. Then, nothing. “William Grant,” he said. He dropped her hand and stepped back.
The tall woman, Stacy, stepped forward and hugged her. Jessamine was so shocked at the familiarity that she didn’t even hug back. “I’m Stacy Donall. You’re so pretty!” Stacy took a step back and let out a nervous bubble of laughter. Her fear was vivid. Not that Jessamine could see the particulars, just that she was afraid of Jessamine. That was a new one. No one was ever afraid of her. Barely five feet tall, and more pixie-like than womanly, she had all the intimidation of a rose petal.
“Thank you. You’re very lovely too.”
Stacy waved away the compliment.
“We have to be going,” Georges said. “I’ll send Stacy over as soon as this is taken care of.” He tucked the manila envelope into a briefcase and flashed a smile. “Lovely to meet you.”
Columbina opened the front door, and the foursome walked out single file. Out of all of them, the only one who looked back at her was William.
A shiver ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the summer breeze that wafted through the door.
“Exterminators,” Daly said, as if that explained everything. “Freelance, but I quite like working with them. They’re discreet and a nice mix of old families and new blood. Come on, we have a lovely lamb roast.” He took her hand once more and Jessamine let him pull her into the dining room. Something about the group seemed off to her, and she couldn’t quite place it. It didn’t help that Stacy was afraid of her.
It didn’t matter, she supposed. Daly pulled out her chair for her before sitting down. Jessamine stared at the formal place setting. Years of etiquette certainly wouldn’t go to waste. She took a sip of her water. It wasn’t until their salad course that Jessamine figured out what bothered her so much about the Exterminators.
With the exception of the slight fear she felt from William, and the obvious fear from Stacy, none of them had normal fears. They were just like Daly and Columbina.
And that meant they were much more dangerous than most people. If this was to be her life, she was going to be in for a lot more anxiety than she bargained for. And wasn’t that just the way of it.