by Terri Osburn
“You, too, dude.” Turning his back to them, he yelled toward the counter in the back. “Hailey, these folks need a table. And get them a flight on me.”
“On it, boss,” said a tall blonde with as many tattoos as the man who’d just bellowed her name. “Right this way, folks.”
“It’s good to see you, Jess,” Frankie said with a lopsided grin and eyes locked on the petite redhead who refused to meet his gaze.
So Ash wasn’t the only one interested in a second chance. Thankfully, Jesse’s body language indicated Frankie’s chance had passed.
“Here you go,” Hailey said, showing them to a booth along the back wall and dropping a menu in front of each of them. “Do y’all want something to drink besides the flight?”
“Water, please,” Jesse said, burying her nose in the menu.
“I’ll have a Coke,” Ash replied.
“Water and Coke, coming right up.”
When they were alone—relatively speaking as the tables on each side of them were occupied—he said, “You and Frankie, huh?”
She didn’t come out of the menu. “Yep.”
He pushed the barrier down with one finger. “Were you going through a biker phase?” Not that he knew for sure that Frankie Snow owned a motorcycle, but based on appearance alone, Ash felt the odds were good.
“As you can see, he’s a really sweet guy. He just has a problem with monogamy.” Her eyes returned to the food options. “That seems to be a pattern in my life.”
“I never cheated on you,” Ash said, wanting to make sure she wasn’t lumping him in with the other men she’d dated.
“No, but in time you might have.”
“Excuse me?”
Jesse closed the menu and dropped it to the table. “Don’t take it personally. I’m just saying that every guy eventually cheats on me. Charmers like Frankie. Hipsters like Todd. More musicians than I’m willing to discuss—case in point, Ryan. The common denominator is me. I don’t know if I come across as too needy or not needy enough, but I do something that makes them all jump into another woman’s bed. Ingrid says I need to raise my standards and stop falling for the wrong guys. If that’s the problem, then every woman has the same issue because these guys aren’t cheating with Barbie dolls.”
Ash blinked, struggling to process the load of crap she’d just uttered.
“There are men who cheat, and there are women who cheat. None of it is the fault of the ones being cheated on. But there are plenty of us who don’t cheat, and the idea that I’d suddenly take up the practice if we were to date again is ridiculous.” Returning to his menu, he added, “Ingrid is right. You’re falling for the wrong guys.”
“They don’t seem wrong at first,” she defended. “Or else I wouldn’t go out with them to begin with.”
“Call me crazy, but I’d bet my best Martin that Frankie there had a reputation before you met him. I know Dimitri did.”
She crossed her arms and glared but held silent as Hailey returned with their drinks.
“Water here,” the waitress said, setting a glass before Jesse. “Coke for you. And here’s the flight from Frankie. Are we ready to order?”
“Margherita pizza, please,” Jesse mumbled, handing over her menu.
“I’ll have the veggie,” Ash said.
“Great. I’ll get the order right in.”
As she walked away, Jesse picked up where they’d left off. “Do you expect me to run a background check on every guy before I date him?”
“A little research couldn’t hurt.”
“So you mean I should date someone I know more about. Like you?”
Not where he was going, but Ash wouldn’t back down from the subject. “At least you’d know what you were getting.”
“Yeah. Safe,” she snapped.
“What?”
“You were safe. Steady. The opposite of every other guy I’ve been with since. You made me believe that you would always be there for me, but you weren’t.” Blue eyes dropped and her voice softened. “So you can criticize my choices, but don’t forget that you were one of them.”
Ash couldn’t argue with that statement. He’d been her first choice, and he’d let her down. Using her parents as an excuse was a cop-out he’d clung to for far too long.
“You’re right,” he muttered. “I have no right to judge your life.”
After a deep breath, Jesse nodded. “Okay, then.”
He tensed, surprised by her use of their old phrase. “Okay, then?”
“Yeah.” She reached for her water. “Okay, then.”
Twenty-Two
The last two weeks had been a blur.
Things slowed down after that first day, for both the recording and between Jesse and Ash. They seemed to make an unspoken agreement over their respective pizzas, and neither uttered the okay, then thing after that night. The album became their only collaboration, at least for the moment. The truce, for lack of a better word, allowed Jesse to relax, enjoy the recording process, and abide by her decision to stay single for the foreseeable future.
Running into Frankie reminded her that she’d literally shifted from him to Ryan in a matter of days. After a seven-month relationship, and then learning that her boyfriend had gotten engaged two months before meeting her, Jesse had waltz from one philanderer to another. How heartbroken could she possibly have been to change boyfriends that quickly?
And she’d nearly done it again by going straight from Ryan to Ash. Granted, Ash would be a do-over, but that didn’t make the situation any less predictable. Jesse had realized another truth over that pizza. She had yet to forgive Ash for leaving her after the accident.
Without even consulting her, he’d walked out of her life. Forget her parents. Jesse and Ash weren’t children back then. Not legally speaking. Maybe his belief that she’d agreed with her parents—that she also never wanted to see him again—was a fair assumption. But it had been an assumption none the less, and the least he could have done was confirm the situation by actually hearing the sentiment from her own lips.
Why hadn’t he found a way in? Why hadn’t he even tried to change her mind? If not while she was in the hospital, then in the weeks after. Or any time during the next ten years, for that matter.
Rationally speaking, Jesse knew that Ash wasn’t responsible for the slew of bad candidates who had followed him into her life, but he’d been her first and only relationship experience until she’d left for college eight months later. With Ash, everything had been so easy. She’d naively thought that’s how all relationships would be, which meant when things weren’t easy, Jesse had bent over backwards to make them so for the other person. Basically, she’d become a doormat and convinced herself that being one was the way to be happy.
“This wig is itchy,” Dana said, scratching beneath the trucker cap perched atop a jet-black wig.
“You can take it off in a couple of hours,” Ingrid assured her. Because she was playing Garth to Dana’s Wayne, the Scandinavian didn’t need a wig. Though she would likely regret teasing her hair to such an extreme when the time came to brush it out.
Jesse’s character wasn’t supposed to have red hair, but she’d run with her own anyway, styled in a retro way that held the gold headband in place. She still wasn’t sure how Ash had talked her into attending this party. Apparently, his ex-wife loved Halloween and threw this huge soiree every year. By the amount of cars parked up and down the street, the guest list was extensive, which meant no one would notice when they cut out early.
“Whose party is this again?” Ingrid asked as they trudged the block and a half from where they’d left Dana’s SUV.
“Ash’s ex-wife’s. He says she throws it every year. I guess it’s a thing.” A thing Jesse wasn’t about to crash without backup. Thankfully, Ingrid had been into cosplay years before. Not only had she helped talk Dana into coming, she’d also assisted with Jesse’s costume. Most of it had come from Jesse’s closet, the one exception being the little red number pulled from t
he photographers boudoir collection and required wearing a heavy coat to avoid freezing her tatas off.
The accessories had been ordered online and arrived at the house before Jesse had even agreed to wear the costume, thanks to Ingrid’s enthusiasm.
The three women followed a smattering of stone pavers that led to a narrow two-story charmer with a double-decker porch, both floors of which were standing-room-only for costumed partiers. Jesse’s gut tightened as they approached the home, and she hoped Ash would be easy to find. Otherwise, without knowing the hostess, let alone any of the attendees, they might be mistaken as party-crashers and sent packing.
“Holy smokes, is that you, Jesse?” came a voice from the upper porch. “Girl, I haven’t seen you in forever.”
Jesse looked up to find Kelsey Ellis waving down to her. The pair had worked the bar scene together for years, their paths crossing often enough that they’d once toyed with forming a duo of their own. But then Kelsey had landed a back-up gig she couldn’t pass up, and the pair went their separate ways.
“Hey, Kelsey,” she called, grateful for a familiar face. “How are you doing?”
“Not as good as you are, darling. How is that album coming along?”
Last Jesse heard, the lanky brunette was touring as a back-up singer for Reba. Not a bad gig if you could get it.
“I like what we have so far.” Which was five songs that she still wanted to tweak, but Ash had insisted she was being too picky. “Is there anyone else here I know?”
“Of course, girl. Everybody’s here.” Before Jesse could ask her to elaborate, Kelsey was pulled away by a man in a hockey mask. Only at a Halloween party would that not be a weird occurrence.
Did everybody’s here include Taylor? Surely Ash wouldn’t have invited Jesse if that was the case. Though now she wondered exactly what Ash’s ex did that she knew so many industry people. She passed four more familiar faces on the lower porch.
“Do you think she’s here?” Dana asked as if reading Jesse’s mind.
“I don’t know,” she replied, hesitating at the bottom of the three steps that led to the porch. “Maybe we should skip it.”
Ingrid pushed Jesse forward. “We are not wasting my work by going home now. Besides,” she said, stepping around Jesse to take the lead, “you can’t let Taylor dictate where you go or don’t go. You were invited to this party, and you have every right to be here.”
Jesse wasn’t even sure if the hostess knew she was coming, but Ingrid had a point. They’d gotten the initial encounter over with that horrible day in The Gulch. This time, Jesse would keep her temper in check and avoid another confrontation.
Dragging her by the hand, the blonde stepped through the open door into a throng of costumed revelers, several made up to look like this or that horror movie character. There was a baseball player, a hockey goalie—likely the warmest person there—and the requisite sex-kitten numbers. The sexy witch, the sexy nurse, the sexy librarian, and what was a party without a sexy cop?
Considering her own costume, Jesse couldn’t say much. She didn’t have to sex up her character. The woman had just been drawn that way.
“Hello!” cooed a beautiful woman dressed as Morticia Addams—and looking the part to perfection. She descended the stairs in their direction with a warm smile. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
This was their hostess? Jesse was too struck by how gorgeous she was to reply, and Ingrid blessedly stepped in.
“Hi there. I’m Ingrid Samuelson, and this is my partner Dana Mills. I hope it’s okay that we tagged along with Jesse tonight.”
The presumed hostess waved a hand in the air. “Of course. The more the merrier. Let me take your coats, and you ladies can wander off to the kitchen for some drinks. Jae-ho will make you anything you want, and we have plenty of non-alcoholic drinks for the designated drivers.”
“That’s me,” Dana said, handing off her jacket.
Ingrid passed over her puffy vest, and Jesse faced the moment of truth. After sliding the long black coat down her arms, a chill from the open front door danced across her bare shoulders. When she handed the coat off to Ronnie, someone whistled and a male voice said, “Hey there, darling. If you want to test that lasso, you can tie me up and teach me a lesson. I promise I’ve been a bad boy.”
Jesse wasn’t in the mood for frat boy comments, but before she could inform Thor that he was barking up the wrong universe, a geeky-looking guy in glasses, a bow tie, and a blue lab coat stepped between them.
“This one is spoken for, Trevor.”
Since when? Jesse almost asked.
“Sorry, Ash. I didn’t know she was with you.”
“Neither did I,” Ronnie muttered behind Jesse.
She spun to catch a less-welcoming glare. Ash claimed that he and his ex-wife weren’t in love with each other, but maybe he’d been only half right.
“Veronica Shepherd!” a voice yelled from across the crowd. “Calling Veronica Shepherd!”
Wait. The Veronica Shepherd? As in, the most successful female producer to ever grace Music City? Jesse’s gut tightened as the revelation hit. Ash’s ex wasn’t just drop-dead gorgeous, she was an industry powerhouse, which explained all of the familiar faces in attendance.
The dark-clad hostess slipped past Jesse and gave Ash a kiss on the cheek as she went. “I’m here, Fran. What do you need?”
“She’s gorgeous,” Dana mumbled as Ronnie glided through the crowd.
“Close your mouth, baby,” Ingrid purred. “You’re drooling.”
Remembering herself, the musician cleared her throat. “You know I prefer blonds.”
“Ronnie’s a blonde under the wig,” the geek offered, no help at all.
Dana glared at him as Ingrid laughed. “Come on, Wayne,” she said, taking her girlfriend by the hand. “I need a drink, and I think Jesse needs a word with her white-knight scientist.”
As her companions walked off, she pulled Ash aside. “Your ex-wife is Veronica Shepherd?”
“I told you that.”
“No,” she corrected. “You told me your ex-wife’s name was Ronnie.”
“That’s what I call her. Ronnie is short for Veronica.”
“Yeah. Veronica Shepherd.”
Leaning on the newel post, he crossed his arms. “I assumed you knew my last name, so the Shepherd part was a given.” Without awaiting a reply, his eyes scanned the length of her, and Jesse felt as if he’d caressed her from head to toe. “You look amazing.”
Instead of the stinging comeback she had for Thor, Jesse turned bashful. “Thanks. Ingrid put me together.”
“God put you together. Ingrid just dressed you up.” Taking her hand, he said, “You want a drink?”
“Sure.” Ash tugged her through the crowd, clearing a path like Moses and the Red Sea. “Who are you supposed to be?”
He spun and held his baby-blue lab coat open. “I’m Bill Nye.”
Jesse failed to withhold her laughter. “You are such a dork.”
“Yep,” he agreed with a grin before taking her hand and setting off again.
Science had been Ash’s second love during their teen years. When he wasn’t strumming a guitar, he’d been mixing some concoction that inevitably exploded in the Rheingold kitchen. To be fair, he’d had one of the worst assistants ever in Tommy.
Keeping her red cowboy boots moving, Jesse hustled to keep up while catching all the female attendees watching her escort with interest. A second later, their eyes landed on Jesse with a combination of disgust and judgment. Clearly, Ash wasn’t single due to a lack of options. Ryan had received the same attention, and when Jesse would catch these same glares, she’d often grown insecure because she knew what they were thinking.
Why was Ryan with her?
To Jesse’s surprise, that wasn’t her current reaction. Instead, she felt annoyed and possessive, and flashed more than one woman an evil eye to let them know that Ash wasn’t on the market. Not until they reached the kitchen did she realize w
hat she was doing. While waiting for their turn at the bar, something shifted into place.
One statement rolled through her mind. This is my man. And for once in her life, no one was going to take him away.
“When were you going to tell me?” Ronnie said, cornering Ash on his way out of the bathroom.
“Tell you what?” he replied, eager to get back to Jesse. She looked good in anything, but the sexy costume drew more attention than he liked. Two brave souls had already received the same warning Trevor had.
Instead of answering, Ronnie pulled Ash into her bedroom—the one room in the house everyone knew was off-limits—and slammed the door.
“So you’re back with her?” she asked.
“Back with Jesse?” Ash hedged, not exactly sure how to answer.
They’d been dancing around each other for a couple of weeks, but his patience was wearing thin. In the studio, there were days it felt as if they were back where they used to be. Friends, but more. And he definitely wanted the more. That Jesse hadn’t argued when he’d claimed her the minute she arrived was a good sign they were on the same page.
Ronnie pinched his arm. “Stop stalling.”
“Ow,” he winced, rubbing his arm. “Fine. I don’t know. That’s the answer.”
She tilted her head in disbelief. “What are you, nine? You either know or you don’t.”
And there was the crux. He’d driven her home several more nights from the studio when they’d worked late together, but there’d been no more meals and no dating talk of any kind—past, present, or future. Which was why he’d convinced her to come to this party. Ash needed to test the waters away from work. So far, the night had gone better than he’d hoped.
“It’s complicated, Ronnie. Between our history and her recent breakup, we’re taking it slow.”
Ever astute, she pinned him with a look. “Does she know what you’re up to?”
Ash hadn’t shared his motives for the invite, if that’s what she meant. “Why does any of this matter to you?”
“Because you matter to me, you big lug. The only thing I know about that woman is that she threw you out of her life, flits from one guy to the next, and no one wants to work with her. Forgive me if that makes me cautious on your behalf.”