Be Your Downfall

by Lizzie Fox

  “Interested? What would Adam think?” she said, glowering at the mere thought of my husband. “Does he know you’re even here?”

  I laughed wildly. “No way. He just thinks I’m at your house having drinks and playing games for a ‘girl’s night’.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know why you put up with it. You’re way better than that, Jessalie.”

  “Yeah, well…” I trailed off, suddenly really interested in watching the contents of my drink.

  “You know I’m right. You deserve someone way, way better. Someone hot, that gets your mojo flowing and makes your toes curl,” Victoria said. I shot her a scathing look.

  “I had that,” was all I said blandly.

  “I know.” She sighed. “You know he wouldn’t have wanted you to do this to yourself.”

  She was right, but I didn’t feel I had any other choice. When I didn’t respond, she sighed again and continued.

  “What did he say when you said you were going out? Adam?”

  “It doesn’t matter much. He had to go to the city for a business meeting in the morning,” I explained, feigning a smile. “He’s been doing that a lot lately. I don’t think we’ve slept together in… hmmm…what month is it now?”

  “Shit, Jess. He’s running around on you, you just know it.”

  “Probably,” I said, with a groan. “Anyway—who cares, I don’t want to think about him right now.”

  “Fair enough.” She rose her glass, and I followed suit; we clinked our glasses together. “To saying ‘screw you’ for a night and letting go!”

  “Screw you!” I echoed, and we laughed. I knew she was right about my husband. She was right about a lot of things. Hell, I didn’t even wear my wedding ring anymore. Ironically, I still wore the other ring… on my other hand. I just told Adam it was an heirloom. But the other one? I told him it was just because it didn’t fit, because I just didn’t care to anymore. He didn’t wear his, either. No excuse, he just didn’t. I knew I needed to leave, to be done, but it was a lot easier said than done. For one, I was afraid. For two…

  Well that was enough.

  There was feedback coming from the stage from a mic, and we both cringed.

  “Hey, that’s not the normal lead singer.” Victoria looked confused when the band took the stage and began setting up.

  “He’s not?” Everyone in the crowd was standing so I couldn’t really see him well, but I did see he wore a black tank top and some kind of fingerless gloves that went up his arms to his elbows. The exposed part of his arms were covered in tattoos, and the little bit of skin that was left unmarked was milky white, with a shock of black hair on his head that was long and gently curled at his nape.

  “No. The other guy was a blond. Hmm…”

  Another of the guys came to the mic, tapped it, and started to speak. “Hey, Minneapolis! We’re Fever Pitch and really glad to be here tonight! I wanted to introduce you to our new member here. Some of you might know that our former lead singer was signed to a record deal recently, and while we’re happy that he’s successful, it sort of left us in the lurch. But, we found someone I think you’ll like just as much. Ladies and gents, please welcome—” the mic squealed gently, and I didn’t catch his name. But when the man in question spun around, my breath hitched in my chest.

  He was fucking gorgeous. Warm, sultry hazel eyes, a shapely mouth with a lip-piercing on his bottom lip, chiseled jawline and high cheekbones. He was kind of lean and lanky but… it didn’t matter. It totally worked for him. “Holy shit…”

  “Ohhh… you like the new singer, huh?” Victoria nudged me playfully but I just slapped at her.

  I nodded slowly. The new singer took the mic and he grinned into the audience, one side of his mouth quirking up just a bit higher in an expression that was a little nervous, a little cocky, and entirely sexy. Then the band began to play, a cover of a popular Shinedown song, and he opened his mouth and began to sing…and I was done. It was a deep baritone sound, with a slight vibrato that made my toes curl.

  The bar had been noisy, everyone doing their own things but when this man started singing, everyone stopped and turned to listen. He was that captivating.

  “I actually think this guy is much better than the other one!” Victoria said, over the noise of the music. I barely even registered her voice, but I could see her grin out of the side of my eye. I had to ignore her because if I thought about her being attracted to him, I was going to scream. This one was mine. I was going to pretend he was, anyway, in my head.

  I didn’t realize I was touching my neck when the lead singer’s hazel-eyed gaze tracked over the crowd and landed on me for a heartbeat. In between beats his mouth spread into a flirty smirk that made me swoon and I swear I felt my heart stop. But the lyrics began again and he looked away. Holy crap, though… I had to resist the urge to fan myself. He was smoldering hot. And probably way too young but whatever. It was nice to look. Besides he probably didn’t look at me anyway; he was looking into the lights or playing the crowd.

  “Jess has got a crush!” Victoria laughed at me tauntingly and I shot her a dirty look.

  “Come on, I’ll never see this guy again. And besides he’s like what? Twenty?” I snorted.

  “Doesn’t matter as long as he’s over eighteen!”

  I rolled my eyes. “Good lord…” But it didn’t stop me from enjoying the show.

  They played another five songs—all covers of popular radio hits—and the crowd loved it, myself especially. The singer knew how to work them, he knew how to move and get into the music. In short? He was simply amazing.

  After a cover of another song I didn’t recognize, the hot, black-haired singer spoke into the mic. “We’re going to take a quick fifteen-minute break so grab your drinks and come on back, we have a lot more show for you.” He winked a pierced eyebrow at the crowd.

  Victoria tugged at my arm. “Bathroom.” I nodded in agreement. Keeping our drinks in hand, we slid off our tall chairs, and wove through the crowds of people into a long hallway. Realizing the drink was a little more potent that I thought—okay, it was my third—I stumbled over my feet and crashed into a tall object, spilling my drink all over the front of my off-the-shoulder blouse. I shrieked loudly when the slippery ice spilled down into my bra.

  “Oh shit! Fuck I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going, I—”

  I glanced up and gasped again.

  I’d crashed into the lead singer.

  My heart fluttered and my breath caught as I gazed up into those sensual, honey colored hazel eyes rimmed with just a hint of kohl that made them stand out that much more. Who knew I’d find eyeliner on a guy so hot?

  Holy shit he was more beautiful up close.

  “Ummm…” I stammered, trying to make words. This guy made me dumbfounded. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” I said, brushing the liquid off and shaking my hands to the side.

  “Fuck my awkwardness, seriously. Can I buy you another drink, at least?” he asked in a really low, husky voice. I shivered at the mere sound, and I swore I watched those gorgeous eyes track over the wet cleavage that was exposed from my low cut, blue top and my face flushed—and not just because of the alcohol.

  “I’m okay, really. I shouldn’t have had this one,” I said, with an uneasy giggle.

  “Well, at least let me buy you something to eat? Help you clean up? You’re going to smell like Vodka now,” he said, lips spreading into that same smile he had on the stage and my knees turned wobbly. I actually had to will them not to go out under me, and fall into his arms.

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that, really,” I insisted, no matter how badly I wanted him to. “But… you’re really good. Just so you know.”

  His grin was hesitant at first. “Thanks. Bit nervous…” He glanced down at his shuffling feet before back at me, and his stare was heavy and potent. It…did things to me. Things I didn’t think my body could even do anymore. Holy holy crap…

  Oh wait…I’m supp
osed to be talking. He said he was nervous!? What!? He’s—so good!

  “Doesn’t show.”

  “Thanks.”

  My breathing quickened as we stared at each other momentarily, when someone called loudly behind him.

  “If you’re sure…?” He glanced over his shoulder and nodded at whoever called him; probably a bandmate.

  I wasn’t, but it was a bad idea. Too tempting. Any other time and I would jump all over him—it—the idea of getting something to eat or a drink but right now, I couldn’t. “I’m fine. Really. Thank you though.”

  “Okay… see you around.” He flashed another grin at me again before turning and looking down, with a pause. He leaned over and I sucked in a breath, getting a very nice, close-up view of his tight ass underneath those tight jeans. “This yours?” He inquired, turning over his hand and his long, tattooed fingers, and painted black nails, revealing a shiny silver quarter in his palm.

  I eyed it, shaking my head. “No, I have no place to carry change,” I said, smiling self-consciously, and patted down my hips, indicating I had no pockets.

  “Huh. That’s odd. I could have sworn that wasn’t there a minute ago.” He shrugged, flicking it in the air with his thumb. It made a metallic noise as he landed back in his palm. “Must be a ghost,” he said, with an impish smile. It was positively adorable, and I nearly swooned. “Know anyone born in… 1984?”

  My eyes widened. “I do, actually.”

  “Then this is probably meant for you.” He took my hand at my side, pried open the fingers, and placed the coin inside. I flinched at the tremor throughout my body his touch left behind. “I don’t know how true it is, but I hear spirits sometimes leave coins behind. Probably just a crock, right?”

  I stared with wide-eyes at the coin in my hand, and then back up at him. “Probably.”

  “Hey man—you coming?” A man’s voice shouted down the hallway.

  The dark-haired singer threw a glance over his shoulder. “My bandmate. Are you sure I can’t get you something?”

  Glancing between him, and the coin, all I could think of was yes, please! But I only stammered. “I…”

  “I’ll try to find you after the show. Okay? Will you be hanging around? I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

  “Dude!”

  He rolled his eyes. “Sorry, gotta get going. My band mate is a total asshole.” I laughed as he spat the word bluntly over his shoulder. “I’ll see you around?”

  I nodded slowly. He paused briefly, as if wanting to say something else but when his bandmate hollered for him again he grumbled and offered me a brief wave before turning and heading the other direction down the hallway.

  “Holy shit. He’s into you!” Victoria came up behind me and said into my ear.

  I laughed sharply. “No, he was just feeling bad.”

  “Oh yeah? Look back in five seconds and if he looks back at you—he’s into you.” Tentatively I counted silently and turned. Sure enough, he was looking down the aisle. Caught, he nodded and grinned before disappearing down another hallway, following his bandmates.

  She shoved me. “Jess—go after him! He’s hot!”

  My face sank. “You know I can’t, Vics…”

  “Adam is fucking around on you anyway—you and I both know it. Level the playing field—get him!” Victoria said, giving me a small push.

  I wanted to. But… “You know why I can’t.” I tightened my fingers around the coin, still holding it in front of me.

  She sighed heavily, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Fine. Suit yourself. I guess if it’s meant to be, you’ll run into him again.”

  “Right. That’ll happen.” I laughed shortly. But how I wished, more than anything, at that moment that it would.

  It didn’t stop me from hanging around long after the show was over, hoping to crash into the black-haired hottie once more, but he never showed. Which was stupid because I knew that guy was way out of my league. Way too hot, and probably way too young.

  “Are you ready, Jess?” Victoria asked me sympathetically, shaking her keys. “Kieran is waiting.”

  “Yeah…”

  “You were hoping to find him again, weren’t you?” She asked expectantly.

  I chuckled dryly. “It’s stupid, huh? He was just being nice.”

  “No… he was definitely interested. Maybe something happened?” I shrugged blandly. “He’s with the band right? Just look them up. You’ll find him again.”

  I suddenly perked. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “Let’s go.”

  I glanced back into the bar that was basically empty now with a wistful look, and once again at the now empty stage. There was no sign of him, so I threaded my arm with my friend’s and left.

  But the sexy lead singer, who I never knew the name of, stayed on my mind frequently for weeks upon weeks after. Even though I never saw him again, he still showed up in my thoughts frequently, like an echo or an imprint on my heart. Or soul.

  But that was ridiculous. Wasn’t it?

  1

  Jessalie Lightman-Reynolds

  “Well, this is it,” I said to no one in particular. I was alone in the car.

  I pulled my lime green Dodge Challenger up the driveway, leading to a piece of lakefront property. My piece of property. Really the deep red, two-story house with large great room, four bedrooms, three bathrooms and a dock out back that led into Lake Independence was more than I needed, but since it was a foreclosure I got it for a steal even despite its location and larger size.

  One year ago, I walked out on my husband. I came home that next morning from my outing with Victoria to the bar to see that band in Minneapolis and found him in bed with a barely-legal woman with large breasts, a thin and firm waist, and lip injections. He didn’t anticipate me coming home so early—clearly, and he didn’t even try to plead or make excuses. He just said, “Jess, you’re boring. I need something new.”

  Well, the reason I was boring was because of him. Adam Tremaine could never do anything spontaneous. He never deviated from a schedule, wore the same boring clothes, had the same hair—everything. Of course I, Jessalie Reynolds, was expected to be the same: the doting housewife who had his colleagues over for business dinners, smiled and wore the pretty dress. A typical hausfrau with no personality. It so wasn’t me, but over the years I’d gotten lost, due to my heartbreak.

  As an investment banker with his eyes set on politics, Adam was quite logical and intelligent, but when it came to emotions or matters of the heart he was, without a doubt, a complete dunce. He was overly critical, narcissistic, and just pretty much cruel. He never hit me, but he was emotionally unavailable. I don’t know why I ever thought I could make that relationship work, or why I even tried.

  That was all in the past, now. I didn’t even shed a single tear when it was over, just sighed with relief. Eight months ago, the divorce was final and before the ink was even dried on the paper I was already entirely moved out but confused, not sure what to do. I decided to stay for the time being with my cousin, Kieran and his girlfriend which just happened to be my best friend, Victoria Martin.

  Kieran Abernathy was about the only family I had left. With Adam out of the picture, and no children between us—and thank god—I was basically alone. My mother and I butted heads over my relationship choices for years and finally she just gave up on me. One day I’d mend that fence but until then she’d moved on, remarried, and now lived in California. I heard from her on holidays and my birthday, and that was about it. My father died long ago when I was quite young in a car accident, and my mother and I were quite poor after that, barely scraping by on ramen noodles and peanut butter and jelly, making our connection rather strained because life was always so difficult.

  That could be part of why I stayed with Adam so long; the security. It was nice knowing that the bills were always paid, the house would always be there, and I didn’t have to worry about getting sick or getting my car fixed because there was enough money between us
. And ultimately even though he was a stick in the mud he was… stable. I knew he wouldn’t do anything impulsive and end up hurting himself.

  I’d always been a creative soul growing up, diving headfirst in music and theater. But, it was writing that was my true passion, and I had had a stroke of luck in my earlier years. At twenty-one I finished my first novel and I was signed on to Big Birchwood Publishing to the tune of two-million-dollars for a string of romance novels. They were the first place I submitted my first book to and while the initial deal wasn’t anywhere near that big, I received offers after the first one started flying off the shelves and Big Birchwood upped it—by a lot. I think that’s why Adam stayed with me even after he was clearly so unhappy, because I made us quite a bit of money that helped launch his political career.

  When sales dwindled, I didn’t get re-signed, and now I was running out of money. I spent a good deal of the last of it buying this house and the car and moving one-hundred-and-fifty miles away from Forest Lake, Minnesota to come here to Independence Point, Wisconsin.

  Why here? Literally, I opened up the real estate websites and started browsing the region, and when I found this one after searching for no less than an hour, in a place called Independence Point, I thought it was fate. Because that’s what I was here searching for, my independence. I’m a writer, it was symbolic; I just went with it.

  I knew no one here at all and I was taking a huge risk. Before Adam that’s what my life had been based on. Spontaneity. It was spontaneity that got me signed to Big Birchwood, it was that led me to my first love—Blake Lightman—at age seventeen. He was from an opposing school, and I met him at a homecoming game. I never cared for sports, so I was always on the prowl, trying to meet boys instead. And I usually found them, too, but none of them ever held a candle to blond haired, blue-eyed bad-boy Blake who wasn’t really a bad boy at all; just incredibly passionate. A rebel without a cause. Our eyes met across the bleachers and—that was it. We made out while the game went on, and I rode off into the sunset so to speak with him on the back of his bike and never looked back.