Fabricating Jada

by Marie, Vanessa

  She studied my face, her brows pinched together. "Just ask. It can't be that bad."

  So I did. "Well, I actually have two questions for you."

  "What are they?"

  "I know this is going to sound super unprofessional, but my mom messaged me this morning and wanted to know when you were going to cash the check?" I grimaced after I asked, realizing how bad it sounded.

  The way she studied my face even harder than before made me want to shrink away. "The end of the week typically. Don't worry about it. We'll make sure everything is taken care of."

  Relief flowed through me. "Okay, thanks."

  Lifting her brow she asked, "What's your other question?"

  It didn't seem as bad in comparison, so it was easy to just ask, "Do you have anything Jesse has signed laying around you'd be willing to part with? I could pay for it. I met this little guy on the bus today and all he talked about was Jesse—I didn't enlighten him on what a delight he really is, but I thought maybe, it would be nice to give him an autographed picture or something if I saw him again. I think he and his mom are regulars on that route."

  Her mouth pulled into a frown as she leaned back in her chair. It wasn't exactly the reaction I'd expected. Not that I was even sure what I'd expected, but I didn't think she'd get upset.

  "So you told him you knew Jesse and promised him a picture?"

  I frowned, my forehead creased with confusion. "Not even a little. He asked why I was reading a Hot Rod Magazine and we started talking about cars. He proceeded to tell me Jesse was his favorite and he wanted to be just like him when he grew up. It wasn't until I got off my stop here and he saw me walk in that I think he put it together."

  Her face looked pensive. "So, you didn't tell him you knew Jesse?"

  "No. Why would I? I don't know him. I met him a couple of days ago, I'd hardly call that knowing someone."

  "Huh," DeAnna said, and watched me with that same perplexed expression.

  I gave my head a slight shake. "Forget I asked. I was just trying to do something nice for a little kid who looks up to your brother, I wasn't trying to exploit anything."

  Staring down at the mug in my hands, I wish it would have cooled off faster so I could have downed it and escaped the uncomfortable tension that settled in the air.

  The sound of DeAnna's heels clipping across her office made me glance up from my cup. She opened a cabinet in the corner and pulled out a box on the bottom shelf. After rifling through it for a moment, she turned toward me with an autographed headshot of Jesse and a Valentine's hat. "Here, give these to—"

  "Quinten."

  Her lips pulled into a hesitant smile. "Give these to Quinten and tell him we said to work hard."

  I dipped my chin in a nod as I unzipped my backpack and slid the items inside. "Thank you. I'm sorry if I made this weird. You could have just said no."

  She gave me a dismissive wave like Carter always did—it must be a blonde thing—and clipped her heels back over to her desk. "It's not that. I'm just not used to people not bragging about Jess and then wanting things in return for all their friends and family as some sort of tangible proof. It's the fastest way to get booted from his life."

  "Here, just keep them then. I didn't say anything and I didn't offer anything. I don't want to cause problems." I unzipped my bag and placed the picture and hat back on her desk.

  Reaching forward, she pushed them back to me. "Jada, really, it's okay. I can see your intentions are genuine. You're the first person I've ever met who's said you didn't know him, even though you've spent more time with him than most of the people he's known for years."

  I frowned at that. "How is that even possible?"

  DeAnna took a sip of her coffee and sighed. "This is going to sound bad, but because he's," she made air quotes, "famous, everyone wants a piece of him. A claim to his fame. So when someone meets him, even if it's only for a minute, they claim to know him. And the thing is, not many people really know my brother for who he really is. They see the facade. You've spent an entire day with him, even after the initial meeting of having your heart broken."

  My cheeks flushed with heat. "Was it that bad?"

  "Maybe just to me, but I could see it when you first came in here that you were a fangirl of his, but for all the right reasons—and when he acted like he did, treated you like he did … I wanted to punch him in the nuts."

  I snorted, trying to mask my shame at being so readable when I thought I was so good at being indifferent. The things you learn about yourself through the eyes of another were enlightening at best. "Yeah, fun times."

  "I'm serious, I could see how crushed you were when you walked out. It's hard when you build someone up in your mind and they end up being an asshole."

  Shrugging, I took a big gulp of my coffee to keep myself busy. And so I didn't have to answer. Could everyone in my life read me this easily? I felt naked. Exposed to the world. More vulnerable than I had in a long time.

  She leaned forward in her seat, her forearms resting on her desk. "You'll have to forgive me when I jump to conclusions about all things Jesse. We've had too many bad experiences and people around us for the wrong reasons for me not to question everything."

  I nodded in understanding. "The only thing I want from him is to learn. That's it." I paused. "Well, and maybe for him to hate me a little less."

  DeAnna laughed. "Give him time."

  "I'm not sure all the time in the world could help us get along. He's oil and I'm vinegar."

  "And together you make one hell of a salad dressing," she said with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

  I rolled my eyes and took another drink of my coffee. After her threatening to stab me with her stiletto if I didn't take the swag, I put it back in my backpack and finished my coffee, joking around about her violent threats. Then I headed off to class.

  "You didn't disappoint, Valley Girl," Miguel whispered near my ear as he walked past me. Usually, when a guy openly flirted with me it made me extremely uncomfortable, but something about Miguel always put me at ease. Even though he'd given me a nickname, a stupid one at that, he seemed to welcome me into the fold without hesitation better than anyone else had. While I was attracted to him, it would never happen. He was a flirt, and I was well aware of his type. I rolled my eyes at him even though I was smiling.

  As soon as Jesse entered the room, the smile fell from my face. Was resting bitch face a thing for dudes, too? It was either that or he was really unhappy with some part of his life. Maybe all of it. But the frown that was always present, pulling the corners of those perfectly pouty lips down made me sad for him, even if he was a jerk. While he was distracted talking to one of the guys from class, I stared a little longer at the sharp angles of his scruff-covered jaw and sighed to myself.

  Jesse turned to address the class. "From the looks of things, an entire day to finish your—projects—isn't necessary. And I don't feel like wasting my entire day, so you have until lunch to finish, and then you'll be judged. After lunch depending on who's still here—" he cut his eyes to mine; they were flat and cold. "Once we find out who's man enough to continue and I trim the fat, I'll demonstrate how to manipulate metal using a pneumatic hammer and how to smooth it out on a leather bag and mallet after.

  Hatred blazed in my eyes as I stared back at him. Was he insinuating by looking directly at me that I wasn't going to make the cut? DeAnna never said anything about cuts being made in the class—we paid to be here. Then again, Jesse seemed to do whatever he wanted. Nerves stirred low in my belly, and my insecurities surged to the surface.

  It was day two.

  I couldn't be kicked out on day two …

  I hadn't learned anything yet. His dig about not being man enough rolled off me, and it was then I wondered if he was just trying to get under my skin to get a rise out of me. When I cut my gaze from my work bench back to Jesse, his eyes glowed with enjoyment.

  I wondered if my face showed every bit of my inner turmoil.

  "Is there a
problem, Jane?" Jesse asked, his lips twisted into a cynical smile.

  So we were back to that. Me being Jane. Would that make him Tarzan, since he acted like such an ape? No, that would be disrespectful to poor Tarzan and his love for Jane. Jesse could never love anything—least of all me. I shook my head to clear the thought.

  Do not react, Jada. That's what he wants. Hold your tongue.

  "Nope."

  "What a shame," he muttered and pushed off the bench he was leaning against. His black T-shirt pulled tight across his chest with the movement. I had to force myself not to look at his tattoos. Even though he was a jerk, it was hard to turn off my attraction to him. It seemed like the more he made me mad, the more I couldn't stop myself from looking at him. How stupid was that?

  I rolled my eyes and grabbed my project off the bench and headed back to my own. Reaching into my tool bag, I gathered the two old black pieces of lingerie made of velvet and satin that Carter had given me to cut up. When I had told her the night before what I wanted to do to the inside of the box, she dug through her drawers and tossed me two items and said, "Cut these bitches to shreds. I've worn them to death and they could use new life."

  Fabric was fabric, and I had no shame when it came to repurposing things, so I attacked her with a hug from my good arm and stashed them away for today.

  Pulling a straight razor out of my bag, I fished out the templates I'd made the day before and laid them on top of my fabric along with a measuring tape, chalk, and my rivet gun. I only had a few rivets left and wasn't sure if it was against the rules to ask for more or not to attach it. Peering around the room, I spotted the drill press in the corner and knew it was where I needed to start once I finished measuring. The problem would be how much my arm would object to everything I wanted to do. It was already throbbing.

  Jesse's gritty tone interrupted my concentration from over my shoulder. "Now everyone definitely thinks you're a stripper. Why the fuck would you bring clothes like that into a place like this?"

  My eye's flashed with annoyance. "They couldn't afford me even if I was," I ground out through gritted teeth.

  I refused to give him the satisfaction of playing into his game today. So I bit the inside of my cheek and kept marking the fabric where I wanted to cut.

  "You do realize this isn't a home economics class right? If you want to play fashion designer, you should just get out now."

  I stole a glance at him, now that he'd moved to my side. His eyes were sharp, assessing me for a reaction. If that was what he wanted, it was what he was going to get. Whipping around to face him, I leaned my hip against the bench and folded my arms over my chest. My still wrapped forearm lying on top of the other.

  "Did you find that cliff to jump off of yet?"

  Jesse darted his gaze from my arm back to my face. "Nah, I guess California is fresh out. I'll ask you again … This is metal fabrication—why in the fuck are you bringing fabric in here?" His voice was low and gravely. His tone indicated I wasn't the sharpest tool in the workroom, and that irked me. Everything irked me when he was around.

  "Let me ask you something, Mr. Valentine … Is a car or even a bike all metal or does it have some sort of fabric on it somewhere?" I arched a brow at him.

  His face softened slightly. The lines in the corner of his eyes weren't as harsh as they were a moment before. "So, you're trying to tell me you're making an interior?"

  I couldn't help my sarcasm … it just fell out. "Ding ding ding. We have a winner … what does he win ladies and gents? Oh … that's right—common sense."

  Jesse inclined his head and forced a tight smile. "Well, you know … interior work is a woman's job."

  Heat crept up my cheeks. "What is your problem? Do you hate women or something?"

  He gave a slight shake to his head of dark, slicked-back hair. "Nope. I actually like women, and they love me."

  "You just don't like me." It wasn't a question. I already knew the answer.

  His lips dropped to my ear. "I most definitely don't like you."

  With that he walked away and left me standing there reeling. Moisture prickled the corner of my eyes, but I refused to give into it. I had to put my big girl panties on and suck it up. He didn't have to like me in order for me to learn from him, right? Sniffing to keep the water works at bay, I wiped my nose with the back of my good hand, finished measuring, and center punched each hole. Once I marked everything I needed, I slipped on my work flannel and safety glasses and headed to the drill press. After changing the bit for the size I needed, I started drilling. The vibration made my arm ache in a way I didn't know was possible. Halfway through the first hole, I noticed there was a drag on the machine, as if it needed to be lubed or something.

  I backed off the handle of the press when the smell of coconut and man assaulted my nose. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, knowing he was close enough behind me I could smell him.

  "Pull the press down slowly," he commanded as he reached up beside me and squirted oil in the hole I was working on. With the height difference of almost a foot between us, he towered over me.

  I did what he said without question, and the bit cut into the metal like a hot knife into butter.

  "Move to the next one. Don't add the oil until after you've got the hole started. Nice job center punching everything." His breath was hot on my neck as he leaned forward to squirt the oil again. My back was almost flush against his hard torso each time he moved.

  "Thanks."

  Each time I pulled down on the handle of the press, I grit my teeth as pain shot through my nerve endings.

  I was two holes away from being finished, and we'd worked seamlessly together in silence since he'd given me the advice. The question I'd been wondering since he'd walked up tumbled around in my mind until I couldn't stand not asking it any longer.

  "Why do you use oil on the press and not with a handheld?" I asked quietly. It was barely audible over the sound of the drill, and part of me wished he didn't hear me because it was a stupid question I should know the answer to … but I didn't. And it opened it up for him to make fun of me more.

  He placed his hand over mine on the handle and added pressure as we drilled the last hole. "It all depends on what kind of metal you're working with and what is going to do the least amount of damage to the material." With that he let go of my hand and was gone.

  The space behind me felt emptier than it should have, and I didn't know how to get my mind around it. After a beat I shut off the drill and carried my box back to my bench. I set it down, grabbed the broom and dust pan, and headed back to the drill press to clean up my mess of shavings.

  As I bent down to sweep up the pile I'd made, a pair of black boots stopped right in front of me. Without looking up, I grit my teeth. "If you tell me cleaning the floor is a woman's job too, I'm going to stick this broomstick up your—"

  "Hey, now, Valley Girl …" Miguel held his hands up. "I was just going to say thanks for cleaning up and not leaving it for someone else. No one else in this room seems to grasp that concept yet."

  My eyes darted to his as I stood. "I'm so sorry. I thought you were someone else."

  Miguel chuckled. "I gathered that. But it looked like you two weren't ready to kill each other for a few minutes at least. Did you learn anything?"

  I snorted. "Yeah, I did, actually."

  He gave an approving nod. "Good. Now go cut up those hooker clothes before you get me more hot and bothered. I was all excited thinking you were going to dress up for me and then I saw the razor." His eyes danced with mischief.

  I shot him a look that screamed whatever.

  Throwing his head back with laughter, he grabbed the broom and dustpan from me once I'd emptied it and I went back to my bench.

  The room was empty with everyone off at lunch as I finished welding the leaves on the stem of the last metal rose I made. The clip of DeAnna's heels gave her entrance away before she made it through the door.

  "Close your eyes," I said through my w
elding lid. The last thing I wanted to do was blind her as she walked into the room and from where my bench was, it would have done just that.

  "Tell me when it's safe," she yelled from the doorway.

  I quickly finished tacking everything in place and pushed my helmet up on my head. "It's safe."

  Her heels clicked on the floor as I reached over and shut off the welder and took off my gloves.

  "Oh, my God, Jada."

  My gaze shot to hers, worry etched on my face. "What? What's wrong?"

  "Nothing. Those are the coolest roses I have ever seen in my life." Her brows furrowed together in confusion as she leaned over my bench. "These are incredible and I want them to sit in my office, but I thought you were making a jewelry box?"

  I blew out the breath I was holding. "Oh, yeah. I finished it earlier this morning and didn't want to sit on my hands, so I thought I'd use up the rest of my scrap."

  DeAnna's eyes were wide with excitement. "Can I see the box too?"

  "Sure." I pulled the extra piece of fabric off the top of it and set it on the bench facing her. Her mouth fell open as she reached out to touch it but pulled her hand back. "This is incredible, Jada. Can I open it?" Her gaze cut to mine.

  I nodded, a smile pulling at my lips over her reaction. Even though she was probably the only person who would feel that way.

  She gasped as she hit the release lever, sending two coils spinning in opposite directions as the automatic hood prop engaged and the lid lifted and stayed in place. "Oh, my God."

  "You keep saying that," I said and laughed.

  Her gaze shot back to mine again with her mouth still hanging open in shock. "You did this? How did you add two kinds of fabric and attach it? Are those rivets?"

  "Yeah, riveting them in was a lot harder than I thought it would be, but I got it … with Jesse's help believe it or not." I lifted my brows in surprise and continued. "I also cut up two of Carter's nighties and laid the velvet as a base and then wrapped the edges with the satin so it would make a safe little nest for anything you wanted to put in here."