U N O F F I C I A L
H O M E P A G E
OK, so I was listening to the Pocahontas soundtrack, and started wondering: what if
Jessie never went to stay with her father, and Jonny never got to know her until years
later? This is the result.
If I Never Knew You
by Winnie Lim
Jonathan Quest straightened his tie and ran a hand over his hair. A little longer
than the older executives approved of, but -- hell -- he ran the company.
He took a deep breath and opened the door to the boardroom.
Eight pairs of eyes looked up and at him.
"Dr Quest," his assistant said. "This is the team from the Millennium group." He
indicated the seven solemn-looking people. "...and this is Dr Jessica Velasquez, the
head of the division."
Jonathan found himself looking into a pair of dazzling, blue-green eyes, and his
heart skipped a beat. "Pleased to meet you, Dr Velasquez," he said in as even a voice
as he could manage.
"Dr Quest," she replied with a smile and nod. Her voice was a pleasant contralto.
Her auburn hair was pulled back into a neat French twist, and she stood at least a foot
shorter than he was, but her manner made her appear seven feet tall.
Jonathan managed to drag his attention away from her eyes and to the apparatus
set up behind her. "I'm looking forward to your demonstration this morning."
"I'm sure you'll be impressed," she said. "We have some new techniques that we
believe are perfectly suited to your project's needs."
"Well, then, let's get to it," Jonathan said, impressed by her confidence.
The Millennium group's demonstration went smoothly. Velasquez took the lead,
explaining the advantages that her group would offer the project. Jonathan quickly
forgot about her eyes; it was clear that Velasquez's mind was razor-sharp and her
intelligence was formidable.
When the lights went back up, his assistant glanced at him. Jonathan silently
answered with a barely perceptible nod. Then he turned to the small team and smiled.
"You've got the job."
Launch time was 36 hours away, and the Quest and Millennium teams were
working around the clock to make sure everything was perfect. The programming and
hardware modifications were complete; now it was just a matter of fine-tuning.
Velasquez had sent the rest of her team back to the hotel where the Millennium
group was staying. She and Jonathan were now putting the finishing touches to the
recalibrations.
At last Jonathan sat back from his console. "We've done all we can for tonight,"
he said, taking his goggles off. He looked at Velasquez, who was still intent on her
screen. "You should go home and get some rest. Tomorrow's a big day."
Velasquez double-checked a final calculation before removing her own goggles.
"I suppose you're right. But I'm so keyed up I probably won't get to sleep tonight."
She stretched out her arms, flexing her fingers.
"In that case, would you care to join me for a late dinner, Dr Velasquez?"
Jonathan asked, suddenly feeling nervous and hoping it didn't come through in his
voice. It had been a long time since he'd done something like this.
She looked at him, and for a moment he was afraid she was going to say no.
Then she smiled. "Yes, that sounds lovely, Dr Quest. Thank you."
"Do you like Chinese? There's an all-night Chinese restaurant down the street,"
Jonathan said as he helped her into her coat.
"Perfect," Jessica replied.
The restaurant was nearly deserted when they were arrived. Two or three
couples sat at cozy, candlelit tables near the back; Jonathan made a point of selecting a
table close to the middle of the room, right under a lighted ceiling panel. He didn't
want Jessica to get the wrong idea about his intentions -- although he himself wasn't
entirely clear about what those intentions were.
The waiter gave them menus and hot towels, and withdrew discreetly.
"What do you recommend, Dr Quest?" Jessica said, flipping through the menu.
Jonathan held up a hand. "Dr Velasquez -- would you mind terribly calling me
Jonathan?" Seeing her raise an eyebrow, he hastily added, "Every time someone says
'Dr Quest,' I expect to turn around and see my father standing behind me."
Jessica smiled. "In that case, I must insist that you call me Jessica."
"Jessica it is," Jonathan agreed.
"All right, Jonathan," she said -- he liked the way she said it -- "what do you
recommend?"
They ordered the house dimsum special. Jonathan had been hoping Jessica
wouldn't think he was showing off by ordering in fluent Cantonese, but she didn't seem
to notice -- in fact, she contributed a couple of suggestions of her own in the same
dialect, although with a charming accent.
When the waiter had left, Jonathan turned to her. "You speak Cantonese very
well," he said.
"I hung out with some Chinese girlfriends in school," Jessica said offhandedly.
They started off talking about work; but the conversation soon turned to their
personal lives.
"I've heard a lot about your father," Jessica said, sipping her tea. "What was it
like growing up with him?"
"Well, it wasn't boring," Jonathan said. Jessica smiled, and quirked an eyebrow,
urging him to explain.
"We travelled a lot," he went on. "I never knew one day to the next where I was
going to wake up." He turned his teacup, watching the liquid swirl around.
"Sounds like it was exciting," Jessica said, leaning forward.
"It was," Jonathan nodded. "I kind of miss those days. But enough about me.
How about you?"
"Well...I grew up with my mother in Colombia," she said. "She and my father
divorced when I was about five. I don't remember very much about him."
"You don't speak with an accent," Jonathan noted frankly.
"I went to the American school," Jessica said. "Then I went to MIT, graduate
school at Columbia, interned at Bell Atlantic... and here I am."
As they talked, Jonathan grew more comfortable. Normally he was shy and
reserved with women; but Jessica seemed different. Talking to her was like talking
with an old friend.
"...So when Farnham opened the door, all the chickens came flying out."
Jonathan laughed. "I still can't believe you got an entire farmyard into his room."
"I paid for it the next year, believe me," Jessica replied, smiling ruefully. "He
helped a bunch of freshman students create a winter wonderland in my room.
Unfortunately, it all melted before I got to see it in its full glory. It took me a week to
get all my clothes dried out." She sighed, and then suddenly yawned. "Excuse me!"
she exclaimed.
Jonathan looked at his watch, and blinked. It was nearly 3 AM. "I'm terribly
sorry, I didn't mean to keep you out so late," he said. They had been talking for almost
six hours.
"Please, don't apologize," Jessica said. "I haven't had this much fun since..." she
frowned, then smiled. "...I've never had this much fun." She leaned forward. "I know
this is going to sound forward, but I feel like I've known you all my life."
Jonathan's eyes widened. "You too? All this time I thought it was just me."
Jessica shrugged. "I can't explain it either."
Jonathan called the waiter over and paid the bill, waving aside Jessica's offers to
split it. "You can pay next time," he said.
"Count on it," she replied.
The night was cool, but not overly so, when they emerged from the restaurant. "I
don't think you can get a cab at this time," Jonathan said, looking up and down the
deserted street. "Can I offer you a ride back to your hotel?"
"I'd appreciate it," she answered.
Jonathan walked her to her door. They paused in front of it.
"Thank you for a lovely evening," she said. "I had a good time."
Jonathan smiled. "It was my pleasure," he replied.
"Would you like to come in for some coffee before you drive home?" she asked.
Jonathan's heart skipped a beat. "That's very kind of you, thank you," he replied
evenly. She nodded, and unlocked the door. He followed her in.
While she went into the kitchen to put on the coffee, Jonathan looked around the
living-room. The apartment was not large, but it was comfortable. Jessica had placed
a few framed photographs here and there, lend the living-room a homy air.
A photograph in a silver frame caught his eye. It was of a very young Jessica --
no more than four or five --perched on the shoulder of a white-haired man. He picked
it up for a closer look -- and stared.
Jessica came in with two steaming mugs. Seeing him with the photograph in his
hand, she said, "That's my father."
"Your *father*?!" Jonathan repeated.
"Yes. It's the only photo I have of him." Her voice was wistful at first, and then
a puzzled look came over her face. "Why?"
"Jessica, this is my father's bodyguard, Race Bannon," Jonathan said. "He's the
one I was talking about."
Jessica's eyes grew wide and she put down the mugs quickly. Jonathan handed
her the picture frame, and took out his wallet, leafing through it until he found what he
was looking for. He drew out a dog-eared photograph and showed it to her.
She looked at the photograph he gave her. It was of a very much younger
Jonathan, a darker boy in a turban, a bearded man, and --
"Dad," she breathed. "I knew him as Roger Tomlinson."
"Small world," Jonathan said.
"Small enough," she replied, looking up into his eyes.
END
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