Kirby looked at her, a half smile playing on her lips. ‘Jane, everybody’s psychic to a certain degree. Everyone’s capable of small flashes of precognition. Even if it’s just knowing who’s on the other end of the line when the phone rings. But some people’s psychic ability is stronger than others, and I’ve always been able to pick up on those people. It gets me…here.’ She tapped the side of her head. ‘Almost like an electric shock, but not unpleasant…more a warm tingle, increasing in intensity depending on the strength of their powers. Being around Robert and John, especially at the same time, is almost uncomfortable. With Raj less so.’
‘And me?’
‘A warm buzz. I’d say you’re just a couple of notches behind Robert and John at the moment. But if you opened up to it, and started to use it, you could be more powerful than both of them combined.’
Jane’s mouth went dry. She tried to swallow, but couldn’t. ‘I see,’ she said thickly.
‘No you don’t because you’re in denial. For some reason your subconscious is blocking it off. Maybe something happened in your past, something that gave your inner mind some reason to shut the psychic part down. I’m no psychoanalyst, but there’s usually a reason for this kind of barrier being erected.’
‘So how do I break the barrier down?’ She wasn’t sure she wanted to.
As if reading her mind, Kirby said, ‘You have to want to, that’s the important thing…and, at the moment, I don’t think you do.’ Perceptive as well.
‘The whole idea scares the shit out of me,’ Jane said. ‘And I’d like to discover if I was psychic earlier in life and what placed it in a box and threw away the key.”
‘As I said, you’re in denial. I can’t help you with that, Jane. That’s something you have to sort out for yourself.’
Back in her own room Jane collapsed onto the bed and closed her eyes. It’s not true, she told herself, but a small voice at the back of her mind, a voice unheard for many years, spoke softly to her and told her she was wrong.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jessica Anderson glided through the party guests, sheathed in a red satin dress cut to the bone. Her hair was swept up revealing a swan’s neck and showing off the Cartier earrings hanging from her delicate lobes. In her customary business suits she turned heads; dressed as she was to night she made jaws drop…and she knew it. A slight smile played on her lips as she moved through the crowd, acknowledging greetings from old friends and casual business acquaintances alike with a well-practiced response and a flirtatious flash of her tourmaline eyes.
She reached the bar, set up in an alcove near a potted palm, and helped herself to a freshly poured glass of champagne. She looked over the top of the glass at the rest of the room. In the corner her father was deep in conversation with a young blonde actress whose Hollywood star was in ascendancy. She could tell from their body language that they would end up in bed together later. The idea that he took lovers younger than her was something she’d had to accept all her adult life. She still found it distasteful.
She looked away and her gaze alighted on a woman, draped languorously on the grand piano just to the side of the French doors, watching the handsome young pianist hired for the night, stroking the keys and looking adoringly up at her. Celeste Toland had that effect on men, especially young men. Not bad for an old broad, Jessica thought. Celeste Toland was sixty, the same age as Carl Anderson, but looked twenty years younger. Whether her looks were the result of good genes or cosmetic surgery Jessica couldn’t say for certain, but she had a pretty good idea. Either way she was a very attractive woman. Tall and slender with a mane of fiery red hair, expertly styled to hover on the line between sophistication and wild abandon. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful, her features were too strong for that, but her liquid gray eyes were enticing beacons of seduction and few men could resist their allure, as witnessed by the piano player who was a nudge away from salivating.
Her sexuality was a powerful and dangerous tool. She used it subtly but Jessica wasn’t deceived. She knew the other, darker side of the woman. Celeste Toland was a shrewd and cunning manipulator; a predator with a ruthless streak matched only by her own.
Carl Anderson noticed his daughter’s presence in the room, peeled away from the starlet and made his way across to Jessica, a smile spreading across his face. ‘Jessica, you look stunning,’ he said, and kissed her on the cheek.
Jessica looked from her father to the actress, who was helping herself to a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray, trying desperately, and failing, to look demure.
‘That little slut has only one thing on her mind,’ Jessica said. ‘You can almost see the dollar signs flashing in her eyes.’
‘Yes I know, but she rather amuses me. You’ll indulge an old man in his weaknesses, won’t you?’
‘Don’t I always? But do they always have to be so young?’
Anderson shrugged and spread out his hands in a gesture of helplessness.
Jessica glanced across the room again at Celeste Toland, who was peeling herself off the piano, eyes flashing looking for fresh diversions. She caught Jessica’s gaze and smiled warmly.
Carl Anderson followed his daughter’s gaze. ‘I didn’t realize that bitch was here,’ he said. ‘Was she invited?’
Jessica shook her head. ‘She came with Paul Forrester; she’s his escort for the night. I believe she moves in the same social circle.’
‘Yes, she does. She moves through mine too; like a shark on the lookout for an easy meal. I’ve told Forrester before to tread very carefully with her. She’d have him for a snack before breakfast, if she had a mind to. He obviously thinks he knows better.’
She laid a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t worry about Forrester, Carl. He’s a big boy. I’m sure he can handle the Celeste Tolands of this world.’
Anderson looked doubtful. ‘I can’t handle the Celeste Tolands of this world, Jess, so I don’t hold out much hope for Forrester. He’s a very shrewd banker, but absolutely clueless when it comes to women. That’s why he’s been divorced three times.’
‘Perhaps he brought her here to try to impress you.’ Jessica raised her glass to a couple walking by, uncertain quite who they were.
‘Sleeping with an old whore like Celeste Toland is not the way to gain a whole lot of credit in my eyes. I can’t see why he’d want to impress me anyway.’
Jessica laughed, almost innocent in its delight. ‘Then you’re obviously unaware of the reputation you have around town. I think a lot of men find the stories of your sexual prowess quite intimidating.’
Anderson frowned. ‘I’m not sure I should be talking about my sexual prowess with my daughter,’ he said.
‘Does it make you uncomfortable?’ Jessica teased.
‘Frankly, yes, but then you have the same knack as your mother for putting me on the back foot. She was a remarkable woman as well.’
‘You miss her, don’t you?’ The smile had disappeared like ice in the sun.
‘Every day, Jess, every day.’ The regret in his voice was tangible. He usually hid it so well.
‘Go back to your starlet,’ she said. ‘Enjoy her.’
‘I go with your blessing,’ he said with a wry smile.
Jessica sipped her drink and stood watching Celeste. She had turned her attention back to the piano player who was coaxing a reflective ballad from the Steinway. Then the woman turned abruptly, locked eyes with Jessica, smiled and raised her champagne glass, mouthing the words, ‘Study. Five minutes.’
Jessica inclined her head to show she’d understood, drained her glass and picked up another. Without looking back she left the room.