Beyond the Bridge

By James Stephen Zoller

When a father dangles his son upside down from the Golden Gate Bridge, the young boy is understandably terrified. But why is he more frightened by the sight of his fathers shoes? Twenty-two years later we awake in a small San Francisco apartment with Jessica Mason. A lowly receptionist for a small law firm, whose life is about to change forever when she meets Juan Carlos Montoya, the handsome son of a Peruvian drug dealer, who is haunted by a distant memory of his first visit to the Golden Gate Bridge.

Beyond the Bridge is a quick page-turner that brings to life a handful of appealing, and very real characters. Laugh-aloud conversations and unnerving suspense flow throughout a myriad of backdrops including San Franciscos high society, Ohios Middle America, and Perus underground world of crime and drugs, all cascading into an unexpected yet dramatic conclusion. With just a hint of San Franciscos gay flavor, Beyond the Bridge captures the quirky, flawed beauty that is the City by the Bay; a city where receptionists become artists, criminals become millionaires, and Middle America becomes comic relief.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 15, 2001
• ISBN: 9781469791951

James Stephen Zoller

James Stephen Zoller has traveled extensively throughout North America, South America and Europe. Much of his writing is heavily influenced by these experiences. His longest adventure lasted for five and a half years, taking place in America’s most unconventional frontier: San Francisco, California. He has drawn from both his life in San Francisco and his travels in Peru for his first novel, Beyond the Bridge. James currently lives in Houston, Texas with his partner, John, and their two dogs, Casey and Maggie.

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All Rights Reserved © 2001 by James Stephen Zoller

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher.

Writers Club Press

an imprint of iUniverse, Inc.

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ISBN: 0-595-17016-1 (Pbk)

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ISBN: 978-1-4697-9195-1 (eBook)

Printed in the United States of America

It’s easy to become content in life,

but it takes courage to venture

beyond the bridge.

Contents

Prologue

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

About the Author

Prologue

Fernando Montoya took his trembling son by the hand and slowly led him out onto the Golden Gate Bridge. The boy began to scream and pull away just as they reached mid-span.

No, I will not have a coward for a son! Fernando exclaimed, picking the boy up and carrying him to the railing. A cold, wet wind blasted past them as he instructed his son to look out at the city across the bay.

Remember, my son, it is because of me that you are able to experience such a view from this bridge. You must understand that if you don’t always do as I say, I can turn your world upside down!

With that, he let the boy fall forward, holding him only by the ankles. His father laughed loudly as the fear of falling from the bridge caused every muscle in the tiny boy’s body to tighten. Fernando continued to laugh as his son hung upside down staring at his father’s shoes.

Those shoes. He suddenly remembered those shoes. And then everything went dark…

CHAPTER ONE

The golden haze of sunrise filtered through the venetian blinds into the small bedroom. Jessica laid peacefully, listening to the sounds of a San Francisco morning and watching the clock minutes before the alarm sounded; something she had done for more years than she cared to remember. The clock came to life at exactly seven a.m.. Slowly reaching to silence the alarm, she remembered a feeling of calm she experienced hours earlier as she awoke from a dream. Imagine, she thought, having a career and a life that was actually exciting and satisfying. Replaying the dream in her head she noticed the clock again. Seven-ten. Out of some involuntary response she lifted herself from her bed to face another predictable day. At twenty-nine, Jessica Mason confronted each day with the same empty feeling, a feeling that there had to be more to life than the routine she found herself tied to. Hers was a life that on the outside seemed to be stress-free and comfortable, yet to her it was extraordinarily bland. God how she hated the haunting voice of her mother assuring her You’re young, darling, you have your whole life ahead of you. Unfortunately, at this point in her life, Jessica could not visualize a change in the routine anytime soon.

As she stood in front of the bathroom mirror she seemed content with the blonde figure facing her. She possessed unique features that often made her come across as appearing stern or angry. This she didn’t mind, for she felt it kept weak people at a distance. She had a long narrow nose and high strong cheekbones. It was her eyes, however, that attracted the most attention. She had eyes that cast a sense of intrigue. Jessica was well aware of the power of her eyes and made a point of using them to her advantage. As a child, she once stayed in a theater for the entire day watching the same movie over and over just to study the way the actress moved her eyes before she moved her head. It was this characteristic that Jessica still employed today. As she completed the final touches to her make-up and hair, she shrugged her shoulders as if to say ‘well this is it, so much for a satisfying life.’ And with that, she locked the door to her simple apartment and began her trek to work.

***

Jessica stood at the bus stop on the busy intersection with the same group of faceless people she had stood with for the past four years. How depressing, she thought, noticing that the people wore the same basic business suits of gray, black, or navy. She then realized she fit right in having chosen her black suit that morning as well. An occasional smile at the moment of eye contact was the only form of communication during the twenty-five minute journey downtown. Jessica often wondered if any of these people had the same feelings about their lives as she did. From a distance there seemed to be a sense of continuity to the lives of this group, yet never a word of discontent was uttered. Once downtown, she would walk the two blocks to the Magnum Building. She liked this building. She remembered how excited she was the day she was hired at the law firm of Myers and Davenport. She didn’t know if she was more excited about finally finding a job or the fact that she would be working in the Magnum Building. It was hard to believe that was four years ago.

***

As usual, she was first in the office. Although she didn’t mind being there alone to enjoy the quiet before the confusion of a typical day, she still felt that her being the first to arrive each morning only strengthened her tie to the dreaded routine of her life. In the four years spent with Myers and Davenport, Jessica had accomplished the distinct honor of rising from receptionist to receptionist/office manager. How depressing, she thought. She never quite understood why she wasn’t given the title of office manager. After all, she not only ran the entire office, but she knew more about the goings on of each and every member of the partnership better then Myers and Davenport themselves. But, alas, hers was not to question why.

Morning, Jess, a voice sang from the end of the hall.

Good morning, Nelson, Jessica replied without looking up.

Nice suit, darling, Nelson offered, Did somebody die?

Jessica looked at her black suit and then at Nelson.

Don’t start with me today, she warned.

Well! Did we have a rough commute this morning or is this just one of those ‘God I hate my life’ mornings?

Nelson knew her all too well, Jessica thought.

Well, before we dive into that again, let me tell you about the frightening dream I had last night, he continued, I was in hell and I was forced to eat two-week-old Chinese food while wearing Bermuda shorts and black socks. Couldn’t you just scream?

Jessica choked on her coffee. Leave it to Nelson to snap her out of any state of depression. Nelson Goldstein had become one of Jessica’s closest friends since he began working at Myers and Davenport two years earlier. Jessica had come to rely on him to be there whenever she needed company or needed to laugh. She was intrigued by his ability to find humor in almost all aspects of his world and the fact that he was gay only added to the sense of intrigue. She felt she had somehow broadened her scope of life when she acquired her gay friend, her token queen as Nelson often referred to himself.

To Nelson, Jessica was his rock in life. It seemed that no matter what kind of craziness faced him day to day, as long as Jessica was there, he could survive it all. At one time they even considered being roommates, but, after considerable thought, they both came to the conclusion that spending that much time together might just destroy their relationship.

And anyway, Jessica thought, there would be no way of keeping up with Nelson’s social life.

We’re still on for tonight, aren’t we? Nelson asked.

What would my life be without my Monday night dinner and a movie with you? she replied.

Lately it seemed that this Monday night ritual was the only excitement in Jessica’s life. Her experience on the dating scene had been far from rewarding. She was quickly coming to the popular conclusion that men were basically pigs. She hated to be so general, still wanting to believe that her Prince Charming on the white horse would come and take her away, but she was beginning to feel that maybe Jessica Mason was not meant to have romance in her life.

Do you think I’m going to become one of those very large women who only have gay men for friends and I’ll spend every weekend dancing with them in bars? Jessica asked while she folded the cover to her word processor.

I don’t think so darling, Nelson replied, You don’t wear nearly enough make-up, and who said you could dance anyway?

Although she complained, this time of the morning spent with Nelson was Jessica’s favorite.

***

As she was enjoying the moment, an all too familiar voice rang from down the hall.

Morning, all, belted the voice of a short balding man wearing a three-piece suit.

Good morning, Mr. Myers, answered Jessica and Nelson simultaneously. Howard J. Myers had the reputation of being one of the toughest defense attorneys in the city. He was ruthless in his pursuit to win a case. Jessica enjoyed the opportunity on several occasions to sit in the courtroom and watch him in action. She was impressed and somewhat envious of his sense of control in every situation. She liked to watch the transformation of Mr. Myers as he entered the courtroom and prepared for battle. She was thankful that he presented a different, calmer personality in the office, and yet she knew that if things were not carried out as ordered he could erupt with the same force exhibited in court.

Jessica? a voice called from the telephone speaker.

Yes, Mr. Myers, she answered.

Could you please step into my office for a moment?

Yes, sir, she said as she rose from her desk.

Yes, sir, right away, sir, Nelson said sarcastically under his breath.

Stop it, Jessica snapped.

Push your tits out and sit pretty! Nelson said as Jessica made her way down the hall to Howard Myers’s office. Nelson was content with his paralegal position at Myers and Davenport, but he felt Jessica was wasting her time there. He was one of only a few people who knew of Jessica’s talent as a painter. He felt that she should pursue it more seriously. To Jessica, her painting was simply a hobby, something to occupy her free time. Nelson realized early in the relationship that it was going to be his duty to push Jessica into painting full time. That was why he cringed every time she kissed up to Mr. Myers.

***

Jessica knocked softly on the massive oak doors at the end of the hall.

Come in, Jessica, came the voice from the other side.

Mr. Myers was seated behind his desk nearly obstructed from view by the towering stacks of briefs. He was smiling. A good sign, she thought.

Yes, Mr. Myers, she asked, standing in front of his desk.

Please, Jessica, have a seat, he said as he stood and motioned to the set of white chairs next to his desk.

She sat in the chair with her ever-present yellow legal pad resting on her lap. Howard Myers sat directly across from her, intertwining his fingers while resting his elbows on the arm rests of the chair as was his usual custom.

I was wondering, Jessica, if you have any special plans this weekend? Howard Myers asked as he looked directly at Jessica.

One word immediately popped into her head: overtime. Oh great, she thought, like I really want to spend the entire weekend working overtime!

No, Mr. Myers, she replied, I really don’t have any special plans this weekend. Why?

Well, you remember my good friend from Peru, Mr. Montoya, don’t you?

Remember him!, she thought. Fernando Montoya had only filled her fantasies for the past six months. It was Jessica’s belief that he had to be the most gorgeous man ever to have graced the halls of Myers and Davenport.

Yes, I remember him, she answered, hoping he didn’t notice the odd change in her voice, He’s a very nice man.

He certainly is, Mr. Myers continued, Fernando and I go way back. We went to Harvard together. I sort of took him under my wing back then, his being new to the country and all. I guess you could say I showed him the ropes.

Jessica found it incredibly difficult to believe that Fernando Montoya and Howard J. Myers could have possibly attended law school at the same time. Life in Peru must have been very good to Mr. Montoya.

Fernando has asked a favor of me with which I am more than happy to comply, he continued, He’s sending his youngest son here for a visit. Fernando wants him to look into the University here in the city. Apparently, he feels the boy will be a great architect one day.

No, please no, please no, resounded through Jessica’s head as she sat listening to Howard Myers. She had a gut feeling what was about to be asked of her. No. No. No.

Anyway, Jessica, Mr. Myers concluded, I’d like to know if you would mind accompanying Mr. Montoya’s son to the symphony on Friday evening?

Oh great, a blind date, she thought to herself. There’s nothing I hate more than a blind date.

Fernando informs me that his son has a great appreciation for classical music. I’m sure the two of you would enjoy the evening, he added.

Jessica hoped she was coming across as self-assured and not the least bit leery of the situation.

Well, Mr. Myers, I guess I would be free Friday night, she heard herself saying as the voice in her head continued, ‘NO! Don’t do it, get up and run!’

Great, then it’s settled, Howard Myers said, as if closing a business deal. His plane arrives Thursday evening. I’ll arrange for a car to pick him up at his hotel on Friday evening and then pick you up at your apartment. All right? he said as he rose from his chair, signaling the end of the conversation.

Okay, Mr. Myers, Jessica said as she made her way toward the hallway. Thank you, she added.

No, Jessica, thank you, he said as he closed the office door behind her.

What just happened here?, Jessica thought to herself as she stood alone in the hallway. Why didn’t I just say no? Why didn’t I say I had plans? She hesitated for a moment as the thought of going back into his office with an excuse flashed through her mind.

I can’t, she decided. God, I hate this, she thought as she made her way back to her desk. She saw Nelson waiting for her like an eager dog awaiting the return of its master. Jessica placed her blank legal pad on top of her desk.

You know Jess, if you don’t start writing something on that pad before you come out of his office, people are going to start talking, he kidded her as he stirred his coffee.

Well guess who just added another title to her job description? Jessica said as she sat in her chair.

Really? Nelson said, leaning in for the latest dirt.

Receptionist, slash Office Manager, slash Call Girl, she said defeated.

Call girl! Nelson exclaimed,Don’t tell me you’re finally giving into your deep dark lust for that gorgeous piece of balding man down the hall?

Worse, she replied.

Good God, Jess, what could be worse than that? Nelson chuckled.

Mr. Myers has asked me to escort the son of a close friend of his.

How exciting!

Exciting? Jessica said. Nelson, you know me, it’s not exciting. I hate this! I don’t want to spend an evening with someone I don’t even know!

Then why didn’t you just say no? he asked.

Oh, right, like you would say no to Mr. Myers, she replied.

Are you kidding? I would kill for the chance to escort the son of a close friend of anybody! Nelson screamed.

They were both laughing when a tall, slender woman, dressed to perfection, began to make her way down the hallway.

How I love to be a part of a happy office, the woman said placing her leather file case on Jessica’s desk. And what brings such pleasure to your faces this morning? she inquired.

Good morning, Paige, they both answered.

You know Nelson, he just keeps me in stitches, I guess, Jessica continued.

Well, good, the woman continued, Jessica, I’ll be in my office for the next two hours and I don’t wish to be disturbed. Please let Howard know I’m here. Thank you.

Jessica and Nelson watched as she picked up her leather file case and walked back down the hall to her office, which was directly across from Howard Myers’.

God, her perfume could gag a rat, Nelson said under his breath.

Stop it, Jessica said.

Paige Davenport was the other partner in the law firm of Myers and Davenport. She had been a partner for almost five years and in that time had proven herself as a well-respected attorney. Jessica was intrigued by Paige Davenport’s life. She was from one of the oldest and wealthiest families in the city, grew up surrounded by luxury, and spent most of her childhood traveling the world with her parents. Her social life could be compared to none. Jessica had lost count of the number of times she had seen Paige’s picture or read her name in the social columns of the newspapers. Although Jessica felt intimidated in the presence of Paige, Paige Davenport liked Jessica and attempted to treat her as an equal. In fact, following Paige’s much-publicized divorce, eight months earlier, she and Jessica had gone out to dinner and had attended several plays together. Jessica couldn’t help but think that there must have been some ulterior motive involved. Was Paige Davenport simply lonely following the divorce? Was she attempting to stress down her life? Did she have a need to simplify her lifestyle, which could be achieved by a friendship with Jessica? Jessica hated her lack of self-esteem when it came to comparing herself to Paige Davenport.

As the door to Paige’s office closed, Nelson continued his conversation with Jessica.

So, darling, he inquired, Who’s the son and where are you escorting him?

Jessica glanced down the hall to be sure no one was there to overhear. You know Fernando Montoya? she asked.

Good God! You mean that gorgeous man has a son? Nelson screamed. There is a God, he said as he began to fan himself.

Stop it, Jessica said, I’m going with him to the symphony Friday night.

And this is bad? Nelson asked. Excuse me, Jess, but I don’t see a major problem here, he said, moving to the file cabinets across the room.

Nelson, I just hate the whole situation, period. What if this guy doesn’t like me? What if he complains to Mr. Myers? What if he’s a playboy like his father and he ends up taking me back to his hotel room and I have to physically claw my way out?

Jesus, Jess, did you ever think that maybe he’s a nice guy and that the two of you might actually enjoy the evening?

No, she replied, looking down at her keyboard.

Of course not, Nelson continued, You’re too busy creating a dramatic and somewhat erotic episode in this guy’s hotel room, which, I might add, doesn’t sound too bad.

Stop it.

In fact, darling, when was the last time you went out and actually had a wonderful time with a man?

I know, Jessica said, You’re right. I guess I need to calm down. Who knows, maybe I’ll get hit by a bus on the way home tonight and I won’t even have to worry about Friday night.

Nelson turned quickly to face her.

Good, he said, then I can take your place!

Jessica laughed as she reached for the ringing telephone.

CHAPTER TWO

Jessica inspected herself in her full-length mirror for the third time. She hoped she came across as classy in her long teal jacket and short black skirt. She loved how this outfit accentuated her legs. With a glance at the clock, she saw she had half an hour before Juan Carlos Montoya would be standing at her front door. As she concentrated on the task of arranging her hair, the telephone began to ring. Jessica crossed the room to answer it.

Hello, she said.

Well, is he there yet? Is he? Is he? Nelson asked eagerly.

No, he’s not, Jessica replied, and I’m one big bundle of nerves. She glanced at herself in the mirror across the room and exclaimed, God, I hate my hair!

Oh, darling, tell me you’re not trying to do that Marlo Thomas flip thing again, are you?

No, I’m not and thank you for your concern, she replied.

Oh, Jess, I’m just kidding. I’m sure you look great. Do you actually think I’d let you spend so much time with me if you weren’t so good looking? he kidded.

Right, she said.

Look, he continued, You know I’ll be dying to hear every sordid detail, so call me the moment you get back. Okay?

Aren’t you forgetting something? she asked, It’s Friday night. Won’t you be going out as usual and ending up in some strange bedroom, Lord only knows where in this city?

If there’s a God, Nelson stated.

As Jessica and Nelson laughed, the buzzer in the living room sounded the arrival of the expected guest.

My God, he’s here, Jessica announced as if doom awaited downstairs on the street.

Well don’t just stand there, Nelson said, go buzz him in. And remember darling…

What?

Push your tits out and talk a lot with your tongue. That should turn him on!

Just because that works for you, Nelson, doesn’t mean it will work for me. Wish me luck, she added.

Good luck Jess. Call me later!

Jessica hung up and went to the intercom next to the front door.

Yes? she said, pressing the button on the box.

I’m here for Miss Jessica Mason, please, came the voice from down on the street. His voice sounded very deep, she thought, as she pressed the button which would let him into the lobby.

She knew exactly how long it would take him to get from the lobby to her apartment door on the third floor. Enough time to allow her to run into the bathroom for one last inspection. Not bad, she thought as she applied one last touch of perfume behind each ear. From the center of the living room she could hear the sound of the elevator’s cage door opening down the hall. Breathe, breathe, she repeated over and over to herself, trying to stay calm. Damn it, she said suddenly as she noticed the moisture which had surfaced on the palms of her hands, just as there was a soft knock at the door. She wiped her hands vigorously on the back of the chair next to the door, fearing she might leave a wet spot if she used her skirt or jacket. As she peered through the peep hole in the door, she could only see a tie and a very wide set of shoulders. His youngest son?, she thought. She unlocked the two massive locks and opened the door.

Good evening, said a large black man in a dark suit. Mr. Montoya’s son is black?, she thought as she extended her hand to greet the gentleman.

Hi, I’m Jessica, she said, hoping the frozen smile on her face hid her surprised reaction.

It’s very nice to meet you, the gentleman replied shaking her hand.

Please, come in, she said, stepping back from the door to allow the towering gentleman to enter. Would you like to sit down? she asked.

Actually, we’re a bit behind schedule. If you’re ready we should probably leave now.

Certainly. Let me just get my purse.

She picked up her purse and they both moved into the hallway. Jessica locked the door to her apartment and walked with him to the waiting elevator at the end of the hall.

So, are you enjoying your visit to the city so far? she asked, trying to break the silence.

I’ve lived in this city my entire life, Miss Mason, he replied, I believe the gentleman you’re expecting is waiting downstairs in the car. I’m your driver for the evening.

Oh, she replied as the cage door of the elevator slowly closed in front of them. The voice inside her head screamed, ‘GOD I HATE THIS!’

***

As Jessica stepped out onto the sidewalk she was dwarfed by the size of the limousine parked in front of the building. I guess when Howard

J. Myers returns a favor he really means it, she thought as she crossed the sidewalk toward the car. The large driver opened the car door and Jessica bent down to peer inside. She was not prepared for what awaited her. Her head entered the darkness of the car and she came face to face with Juan Carlos Montoya. She was immediately stunned by the beauty of the man reclining in the plush seat. His eyes appeared to be two brilliant emeralds lit by some internal source of light. My God, she thought as her eyes followed the sculptured features of his face and moved slowly down his tall athletic frame. She then noticed the knee-high cast on his left leg. Hi, was the only word she could manage to let drop from her lips.

Hello, Jessica, I’m Juan Carlos, he said as he extended his hand to greet her. I hope you will forgive me for not coming to your door. As you can see, I’m having to wear the latest in ski wear, he said as he placed his hand on the cast.

My goodness, what happened? Jessica asked while she settled into the seat next to him.

I decided to visit Colorado while I was here in your country. I have heard many good things about it, he said, as the car moved away from the curb for the five block drive to the concert hall.

Do you ski? she asked, gazing into those eyes.

No, he laughed, I guess this is my proof. It was very embarrassing. I fell on my first attempt to go down the slope for rabbits.

Slope for rabbits? Jessica questioned.

Yes, he said with self-assurance. Jessica looked puzzled. She then began to giggle having realized what he was trying to say.

Oh, you mean the bunny slopes, she said.

Yes, he replied. As they both laughed, Jessica studied his face. Here she was, actually enjoying a conversation with this incredibly gorgeous man. All her fears were slowly beginning to slip away.

Have you been to San Francisco before? she inquired.

Once, he said, I came with my father as a small child. The only thing that I can remember is being completely terrified by the Golden Gate Bridge and then the strange feeling I had when my father carried me to the center and allowed me to experience the view from the bridge. He gazed down at the floor of the car and appeared to be replaying the scene from his childhood in his head. It is something I will never forget, he added quietly.

Jessica felt that she had just stumbled onto something very deep and decided it might be better to change the subject.

Well, there’s plenty of sightseeing here to keep you busy. Will you be staying long? she inquired, praying he would say forever.

Yes, I will be here for about a week, he said, adjusting himself in the seat before returning to the conversation at hand. I want to thank you for joining me this evening, he said as he gazed at Jessica. I am looking forward to seeing the inside of Davies Hall. I passed it on the way to your apartment.

It’s a beautiful building, Jessica said, as she remained transfixed by his eyes.

Do you enjoy classical music? he asked.

Well, I enjoy it, but I’m not very knowledgeable about it.

But you have been to Davies Hall many times? he asked.

Well, Jessica said, to be honest with you, I’ve only been there twice. Once, with a friend, for An Evening With Carol Channing, and once, at Christmas time, for the Sing-along Messiah.

And did you? he inquired.

Did I what?

Did you sing along? he said smiling.

Oh please, I couldn’t sing if my life depended on it.

I would think that such a beautiful face would possess a beautiful voice, Juan Carlos said as he innocently looked down and then back up at Jessica’s face. A sudden sensation of heat filled her cheeks. Jessica tried to remember the last time someone had actually made her blush.

You are very nice, Jessica Mason, he announced.

Thank you, she said as she glanced towards his eyes again. So are you, she added. The car made a wide turn and slowly rolled to a stop at the front of Davies Hall, where a continuous stream of people made their way into the cavernous structure. Jessica felt that she was about to embark on an evening she would not soon forget.

***

They took their time ascending the grand staircase of the concert hall. Juan Carlos insisted on scaling the stairs instead of using the elevator. As Jessica held his arm, supporting him as he maneuvered the bulky cast, she enjoyed watching him as he took in every detail. He was like a child being led by the hand through a magical playground for the first time.

I must admit, there is one thing I don’t mind about this cast, he said.

What’s that? she asked, while trying to steady him as he attempted to conquer each step.

Having to be assisted by such a beautiful woman, he said as they finally reached the landing of the second level.

Oh, you probably say that to all the girls, don’t you? Jessica said. Juan Carlos suddenly stopped and pierced her with his eyes.

No, I don’t, he stated flatly. I am not like that. My words are sincere.

Jessica was a little startled by his reaction. She had never felt such presence in a person before. As Juan Carlos looked at her, she became oblivious to the people flowing past them. They stood staring at each other beneath the glistening chandeliers that towered high above their heads. There was something unique about the man standing in front of her, she thought. He seemed to possess a mystique that was as awe-inspiring as the structure they had just entered.

I’m sorry, Jessica said, I guess I’m just not used to hearing so many compliments.

Get used to it, Juan Carlos replied, smiling, as they located their seats and sat down.

The music that began to fill the room seemed appropriate to the dream state Jessica was experiencing. She watched Juan Carlos as he sat completely entranced by the music. At times his eyes would close and his entire body seemed to take in each note resounding from the stage. My God, she thought, this is what classical music is all about. She had never known anyone to enjoy an art form with such devotion. The man and the music had become one. As she continued to study his face, her glance was suddenly met by his. At this point, she strongly believed that if he were to ask her to blow up Davies Hall, she would do it in a second. Juan Carlos smiled as he reached over and placed his hand on hers. They sat there, hand in hand, for the next hour and forty-five minutes.

***

As the music ended and the lights came up, they began the cautious journey back down the staircase to the waiting car outside.

I’m starving, Juan Carlos announced, as he climbed into the car. Where would you like to eat?

Well, there’s a great Italian restaurant a few blocks from here. Do you like Italian food? she asked, while she adjusted herself in the seat of the car.

I love all types of food, he replied.

Jessica gave the driver the directions to her favorite restaurant. She knew there would probably be a long wait for a table, but this would allow plenty of time for talking. And talk they did. They talked about the music, about the arts, about their interests. They talked about life in San Francisco, about life in Peru. They talked about traveling, about the great places they had traveled to or dreamed of traveling to. They talked about their backgrounds, about their friends, about their families. By the time the last drop of wine had been drunk, Juan Carlos Montoya knew all there was to know about Jessica Mason, including her interest in painting, something she rarely shared with anyone. Jessica, however, felt she had only scratched the surface of the true identity of the person seated across from her. He seemed to remain vague about his life in Peru, especially regarding his childhood. She had learned that his mother had died when he was five years old and that he had one brother, much older than him, to whom he was not close. She came to the conclusion that Juan Carlos did not have a good relationship with his father. As Jessica would later find out, she could not have been more correct. She also found it difficult to believe that Juan Carlos Montoya was only twenty-seven years old. How could this person possess such class, such wisdom, and still be so young?, she thought to herself as she remained thankful that the topic of her age never came up.

***

It was very late when they walked out of the restaurant and climbed into the car one last time for the drive to Jessica’s apartment.

If you only experienced half of the pleasure that I did spending this evening with you, then you had a wonderful time, Juan Carlos said as he lifted Jessica’s hand to his face and kissed it lightly.

I did have a wonderful time, she said, I wish it didn’t have to end. God, did I really just say that?, she thought as she quickly prayed it didn’t sound as obvious an invitation as it seemed.

Actually, Juan Carlos continued, I was wondering if I could see you again tomorrow? He had a small grin on his face as he awaited her answer.

I would enjoy that very much, she answered.

He reached into the side compartment of the car and removed a pen and paper and asked Jessica to write down her telephone number.

Are you sure you don’t just want me around because I’m so good at helping you up and down staircases? she inquired light-heartedly as the car slowed to a stop in front of her building.

"I want you around because I