Secrets of Yden

Jon tried to recover his good humor over the next few days so he wouldn't scare January to death. He designed a Miss Jane sign in calligraphy and convinced his father to loan him the Lexus SUV for his chauffeur duty. On Thursday after school, he took the SUV for a wash and wax and replaced the '80s music in the car's CD player with cooler stuff. Before he left for the airport, he changed into black denim jeans, a freshly pressed white long-sleeved shirt, a new sports coat, and a silk tie. He even brought along some cold bottled water in case January was thirsty. Sure, he was going to a lot of trouble. Anything for Chaz and Lynn.

Arriving a little early at the airport, Jon scored a fairly decent parking spot in the short-term parking structure and made his way into the terminal. According to the electronic Arrivals board, January's flight was on time, and when her flight arrived, he went to the baggage claim area to wait for her. A couple of chauffeurs were standing nearby. Although they weren't wearing uniforms, Jon could tell they were drivers because they were holding up hand-lettered signs with people's names on them.

When the passengers from January's flight began to stream down the escalator, Jon scanned the crowd, searching for anyone who remotely resembled the actress in Immortal Soule. One super-skinny girl was alone, wearing a pink baseball cap and sunglasses, but her head was bent so Jon couldn't see her face. Could that be her? Although Jon couldn't be sure, the girl must have seen his sign because she came to a stop right in front of him.

To his surprise, the girl flicked him a withering glance. It suddenly dawned on him she was wearing an earpiece and was talking to someone on a cell phone.

Jon tried to catch her eye. "Do you have luggage?" He cocked a thumb at the baggage carousel.

"What's that?" January said to the person on the other end of the call. "I'm sorry, but I'm in an airport, and people are talking at me."

The girl never paused her conversation, but instead held up two fingers in a V. Either she's waiting for two bags, or she's giving me the peace sign. Since January didn't seem the peace sign type, he waited for the luggage conveyor belt to begin moving. When January turned her back to continue her phone call, irritation muted his enthusiasm. He tried to deal with it; perhaps she was in the middle of an important business deal involving the role of a lifetime, and as soon as she finished her call she'd apologize.

To his amazement, however, January never got off the phone. After what seemed like forever, the conveyor belt began to move and a parade of luggage floated by. Feeling like an idiot, Jon stood next to the belt, waiting for Lynn's sister to tell him which bags were hers. Judging from the designer shoulder bag she carried, he guessed her luggage would match.

Sure enough, when a matching overstuffed designer garment bag appeared, January whacked him on the arm and pointed. With gritted teeth he retrieved the bag, just to receive another whack as a rolling suitcase came along. Jon glanced around, looking for hidden cameras. This has to be some kind of gag… doesn't it?

Nobody jumped out from behind a pillar to let him in on the joke, so he positioned the garment bag on top of the rolling suitcase and maneuvered the pile out of the terminal. The entire way, January trailed along behind him, yakking on her cell phone about some interview she'd done and an article about her appearing in some magazine somewhere. As he passed a trashcan, Jon lobbed his carefully drawn Miss Jane sign inside. Miss Jane is obviously an ardent fan of January Beck.

When Jon reached the Lexus, he opened the front passenger side door for his guest. January ignored the gesture and instead let herself into the back seat.

Irritation and anger were edging toward hatred. Jon stowed January's bags in the trunk and slid behind the wheel.

Seething, Jon turned up the a/c. With a flick of a glance in the rearview mirror, he checked to make sure January had her seatbelt fastened. She caught him looking at her.

Jon bit back laughter. He figured since she was treating him like a chauffeur, he'd act like one. "Yes ma'am. I beg your pardon."

"Hang on," she said into her phone. Then she addressed Jon. "Do you know where I'm going?"

"The Pacific Bay Hotel, ma'am." Jon offered her the bottled water. "Would Miss Jane care for a drink?"

She took it without saying thanks, and then returned to her phone conversation. Jon was truly floored. He'd met people before who were great at being self-centered and rude, but January was an expert. As he drove to the hotel, he wondered how far his loyalty to Chaz and Lynn would stretch. Should he kick the girl to the curb and be on his way, or should he continue making an effort? He leaned toward dumping.

The drive was uneventful, although he inadvertently learned more about January's business than he ever wanted to know. She'd loved her last film director, but hated the costume designer. She'd hated her co-star, but loved the cinematographer. She'd hated the reporter who'd interviewed her for Vanity Fair but loved the photo stylist. Jon got the feeling there was no middle ground with the girl.

At the hotel, a bellman brought a luggage cart for January's bags. Jon handed his keys to the valet and waited while she checked in at the front desk. Thereafter, he rode in the elevator with her to her floor. The whole time she was engaged in a non-stop phone conversation and never acknowledged Jon's existence at all.

The bellman took a separate, faster service elevator, and when Jon and January reached her suite, the bellman was waiting with her bags. After she entered the suite, January immediately walked to the balcony to check the ocean view. Jon took a quick look around the place; the suite was impressive, with tasteful décor. There was a fully stocked bar and a small refrigerator, and the hotel management had set out a nice welcome basket on the table with a handwritten note addressed to Miss Beck. The basket was filled with fresh fruit, a box of gourmet hand-dipped chocolates, and a bottle of sparkling cider.

The bellman lifted January's rolling suitcase onto a teak folding luggage rack, hung her garment bag in the closet, and ambled down the hall with the ice bucket to get ice. As January continued to yak on her cell phone, Jon waited, trying to get a word in edgewise.

Finally, she sighed. "Hang on a sec," she said into the phone. She turned to give Jon a stony stare. "Why are you still here?"

"Yes, yes, I know my schedule." January flicked her fingers toward the door as if trying to shoo him out.

January growled with frustration, and then dug into her handbag for a twenty-dollar bill. She opened the door to the suite, stuffed the money into Jon's hand, and pushed him out into the hallway.

She shut the door in his face just as the bellman returned with the ice. The man chuckled at Jon's expression. "Celebrities aren't like the rest of us," he confided.

"No, I guess not." Jon slipped the bellman the twenty. "Here you go. Take good care of her."

As Jon left, the bellman tapped on January's door. "Bellman! I have your ice, Miss Beck."

With a half-hour to kill before dinner, Jon bought a soda from the bar in the lobby, settled into a comfortable chair, and reflected on the fact Charles was getting a barracuda for a sister-in-law. He'd read Taming of the Shrew in his Shakespeare class last term. In the play, the two sisters were complete opposites — sweet Bianca and Katherina the shrew. January was Katherina the shrew come to life, right off the page. Unlike Petruchio, I have no interest in taming that particular shrew.

He had to admit January was a masterful actress. In Immortal Soule she'd actually made him care about her. In person, however, she'd awakened an overwhelming urge to grab her cell phone and stomp it into oblivion. Before he'd met her, he'd actually thought she was pretty. Now, as far as he was concerned, the girl may as well have horns sticking out of her head. Maybe she does, and she hides them under her baseball cap.

When Charles and Lynn pushed their way through the big revolving door and into the lobby just before six o'clock, Jon slapped a grin on his face and jumped to his feet.

"Hey." He shook his uncle's hand in greeting.

"You look so handsome!" Lynn exclaimed.

"Coat and tie and everything." Charles gave Jon two thumbs up.

"How'd it go at the airport?" Lynn asked. "Were you able to connect with Jan okay?"

"No problems at all," Jon replied. "She's really… something."

Despite his complete and utter disdain for the girl, he'd suffer a thousand Imp-bites before he'd say anything uncomplimentary about Lynn's sister. Charles would be meeting her shortly and could form his own opinion — poor guy.

Lynn glanced over to where Jon had been sitting. "Where is Jan? I was hoping you'd be getting to know each other."

"She's relaxing in her room, I believe," Jon replied. "You might try her on her cell phone."

Lynn dialed January's cell, but the line was busy. Jon wasn't surprised.

"The big silly must have her phone turned off," Lynn said. "I'll go up and get her, and you two can meet us in the restaurant."

Jon gave Lynn January's room number and then accompanied Charles into the Red Carpet Restaurant, just off the lobby.

"I don't know about you, but I could use a big steak," Charles said.

"A big fat stake sounds good right about now," Jon muttered, thinking about the monster in Suite 1004.

Charles was on his second beer by the time Lynn and January arrived. January had donned a stunning dress, her hair was twisted up and anchored by a glittery comb, and she was in full makeup. Oozing sweetness and warmth, she projected her movie star persona full throttle. Heads turned when January and Lynn walked in, arm and arm. As the ladies approached their table, Charles and Jon stood.

January offered her hand to Charles, along with a dazzling smile. "It's so nice to meet you at last, Charles. What a pleasure!"

"Call me Chaz. It's great to meet you, too," he replied. "And of course you've already met my nephew, Jon."

January's smile only slipped a little. She inclined her head to one side as she regarded him. "Jon Hansen."

A broad grin spread across his face. "Miss Jane."

Oh, this is going to be a lovely meal.

Jon was fascinated by the way January worked the table. She absolutely had Lynn fooled as to her true nature, and Charles seemed enchanted as well. January knew Jon was on to her, but she didn't sweat a drop. She batted her lashes and actually flirted with him. He played along and flirted right back, which prompted a pleased glance or two between Lynn and Charles over dinner. When the last cappuccino was served, January gave a regretful sigh.

"I hate to turn in, but I've got a full morning of interviews to do tomorrow," she said with a pretty pout. "Maybe Jon could walk me to the elevator?"

"Of course." Jon stood and held her chair for her. "Good night Chaz and Lynn, and thanks for dinner."

"Thanks for taking such good care of my sister," Lynn replied.

As soon as January and Jon walked out of the restaurant, she dropped the act. "You little creep," she murmured. "You let me think you were a hired chauffeur."

"Oh, that's good," he whispered. "You behave like a spoiled brat, treat me like dirt, and then blame me. That's brilliant."

"You could have said something at any point."

"Like I could have come between and your cell phone," he retorted. "When I tried, you gave me money to go away."

"You took it!"

"Yeah, well, if you're looking for a refund of your twenty bucks, you're out of luck," he said with a snarl. "I gave it to the bellman to kiss your ring."

At the elevator, Jon punched the button with the meaty part of his fist. The door slid open right away. "Look, Your Highness, all I care about is making sure Chaz and Lynn have a great wedding. So I'll go along with your phony self, but don't ever forget I know who you are."

"Oh yeah?" January sneered. "Choke on it."

She disappeared inside the elevator and the doors closed. He laughed and shook his head. It had been a stupid, wasted evening, and now he'd have to stay up late to cram for a math quiz. Furthermore, it appeared as if a case of dengue fever was in his future. I'd just as soon ask a cygard to homecoming than January Beck.

In art class the next morning, Jon drew a charcoal sketch of January with sharp fangs. When the lunch bell rang, Mr. Emerson asked him to wait. As the other students were filing out of the classroom, Mr. Emerson handed him a glossy tri-fold.

"This is the promotional brochure the museum is mailing out this week to their subscribers. I thought you might like a copy."

Inside the brochure was a separate insert featuring Jon's participation in the exhibit. At the top, Lenny's photograph showed him with a kind of broody, smoldering look in his eyes.

"Holy moley," Jon said, shocked. "Who's that?"

"That's all you, kiddo. To the max."

Jon read through the written information on the card. The museum had misspelled his collection Secrets of Eden instead of Secrets of Yden, but the error was actually his own fault since he'd never told Mr. Emerson the different spelling. And there was his bio, such as it was.

"Hey, this calls me a prodigy!" The tips of his ears burned. "I didn't write that, and I'm hardly a prodigy."

"Sure you are. You're an unusually talented young person. Go with the flow, man."

On the back of the card were photographs of Warrior Princess, Unicorn Foal, and Imp. Overall, it was pretty impressive.

"Gnarly, huh?" Mr. Emerson said. "The time and date for the preview night is the second Thursday in October."

"My uncle is coming with me. Is that okay?"

"It's groovy. I'll be looking for you."

Jon folded up the brochure with the insert card and slipped it inside his book bag. He was secretly rather pleased with the way the insert card had turned out, but if Max ever saw his ridiculous photo, he'd never live it down.

Chapter Eight