Jessie's Girl (Rock & Roll Girls Book 1)

by CL Rowell

  Using the door as a crutch, I dragged myself to my feet and staggered into the room. Wallowing in self-pity, I polished off the rest of the wine, curled up in the comforter, and cried myself to sleep.

  A tiny hangover and a glance into the vanity mirror chased me into the shower the next morning, and I exited in a cloud of steam, to a barrage of music. My phone was going off. Cold Hard Bitch…Lucy. Curious, I hurried across the room to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Took you long enough to answer the freaking phone. Only had to call you three times.”

  “Three—I was in the shower. What happened? Is James okay? Is Mom?”

  “They’re fine. Worried about you.”

  “About me? Why?”

  “Haven’t turned on the television yet?”

  “I just got up. Why? What did I miss?”

  “Just your face, plastered all over a shit ton of channels. Hell, I bet the story even made CNN.”

  “My face? I don’t understand.” I dropped to the bed, hugging the towel close.

  “A local reporter was at The Blue Orchid, last night, filming the show for a human-interest story, and got more than she bargained for. She caught the whole thing on camera. Now the entire world knows who Jessie’s girl is.”

  “No!”

  “Oh, yes, sweet cheeks—like it or not, you’re famous.”

  “But, I don’t want to be famous.” I collapsed against the mussed sheets.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  **

  Paranoia dogged my footsteps as I prepared to head home. I secured my hair on top of my head and hid behind a pair of oversized shades and a cap I found at the bottom of my overnight bag, praying I could slip out without being recognized.

  Leaving my room key on the nightstand, I hurried to the elevator, and out into the nearly empty parking lot, not relaxing my guard until I was belted into my seat with the doors locked and the motor running. As I backed out of my parking spot and headed toward the street, I relaxed.

  “Callie! Wait!”

  Hearing my name, I glanced out my passenger window as I pulled into traffic—and groaned, recognizing the multi-hued tresses on the wildly waving girl running toward me from the front parking lot of The Blue Orchid. It was Julie…and on her heels, a crowd of reporters—and Jessie. Shit! I kept my foot on the gas, pretending I didn’t see them.

  “No, no, no, no!” I whispered, as panic emptied my mind of everything except the need to get away. “I can’t do this. I’m not ready.”

  I spent more time staring in the rearview mirror than I did out the front glass. My shoulders ached from the tension of constantly scanning the streets around me and the skies over my head, but I refused to relax until I flew onto the interstate and watched the New Orleans cityscape fade behind me. Free at last, I set my cruise control and turned the radio up loud.

  Lucy was at my car door as soon as I pulled into my driveway. “How was your trip?”

  “Geez, let me get out of the car and stretch my legs. I didn’t stop once, all the way back, and I need to take a leak before I pop.” Heading for Mom’s house, I added, “If it can’t wait five whole minutes, you’ll just have to follow me into the bathroom.”

  “I can do that. You think I won’t?” She stayed glued to my heels, yelling at my surprised mother and son as she slammed the bathroom door behind us, “We’ll be right back. She has to go potty.”

  Refusing to be embarrassed, I glared at her. “Can you shout a little louder? Mrs. Lee, three doors down, is hard of hearing. I don’t think she heard you.”

  “Haha.” She perched on the edge of the bathtub. “Seriously, tell me everything. Don’t leave anything out.”

  “What do you want to know that you didn’t see on TV? According to you, they showed the whole debacle on the news.”

  “They did, and I guess I can understand why you don’t want to talk about it, but there’s one thing I have to know.”

  “What is it?” Sighing, I dropped my head forward, resting my chin on my chest, wondering what was going to come out of her mouth.

  “Where’d you find Rainbow Barbie?”

  I raised my head and squinted at her. “Where did I—? Rainbow—oh, you mean Julie. She drove down from Arkansas, hoping to find a scalper selling tickets. When I bumped into her, I felt so bad for her, cuz she’d been crying, and her mascara was everywhere.”

  “Couldn’t find any scalpers?”

  “Nope.”

  “Let me guess…you gave her my extra ticket, didn’t you?”

  I tucked my head between my shoulders. “I tried to, but she insisted on paying me what she could afford for it.”

  “What? Ten whole dollars?”

  “You’re such a bitch.” I laughed at her. “Actually, she gave me eighty bucks.”

  “Not bad. I only paid a hundred each for them.”

  “Yeah, well I hope her trip home was uneventful, because that was all she had other than what she set aside for a room and gas.”

  “That what she told you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you believed her?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Good point. Why wouldn’t you?” She shook her head. “It’s one of the things I love about you, but your Achilles heel, as well. You’re so gullible. You trust everyone. I’m surprised you kept the money. What happened?”

  I stood up, dropping my eyes, “Why are you so sure something happened?”

  “Callie…”

  “Fine.” I raised my voice so she could hear me over the faucet, as I washed my hands, “The concert started before I could try to give it back; then he saw me, and I ran and hid in my room. Satisfied?”

  “No. I’d be a pretty fucked up friend if I was, since I know you’re probably kicking yourself in the ass for running away.”

  “I am.” I watched my lips tremble and my eyes fill with the hot shimmer of tears in the mirror over the sink. “Because I ran, not just once, but twice.”

  She connected the dots, and her sympathy was almost my undoing as she pulled me close, rocking me, comforting me, and rubbing tiny soothing circles on my shoulders and back. “He was still there this morning, wasn’t he? Aw, Callie…honey, don’t beat yourself up over it. If he was there, news crews probably were, too, hoping for a reunion story to boost their ratings.”

  “They were.” My voice was muffled against her shoulder as the tears I fought to control leaked out and dampened her shirt. “Julie was, too. Her yelling my name as I pulled onto the street was what caught my attention.”

  She pushed me away, murder in her eyes, “Let me get this straight—little Miss Rainbow Barbie wannabe, who drove from somewhere up in Arkansas, hoping to get a ticket, not only distracted him while you got away, but was still there, outside the Blue Orchid with him when you left the inn? Uh uh, girl, something don’t smell right. I bet you anything that that little opportunist is after your man.”

  “She’s the one who yelled—did you miss that part? Besides, he’s not mine.”

  “His actions say different—that interview said different—and a bunch of his songs do, too. That man cares for you.”

  “Then how come he never tried to find me?”

  She shrugged. “That’s something you’ll have to ask him…but, in order to do that, you gonna have to face him and talk to him.”

  “I know.” I opened the bathroom door and found my legs tackled by my son as he nearly bowled me over.

  “Mommy! You came back!”

  “I did, didn’t I?” Lifting him high for a hug, I added—to her, “I’m working on it.”

  “Well, don’t take too long. There are opportunists at every concert, just dying to wiggle in close to your man. Don’t wait until it’s too late.”

  “I won’t.”

  “See that you don’t.” She smiled at my mom. “Nice seeing you, Mrs. Rhodes. I gotta get home. I think I left my door unlocked. I’ll let myself out.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  **<
br />
  I promised myself I wouldn’t do it, but before the week was out, I was online, searching for his itinerary. Like a junky in need of their next fix, I told myself whatever I needed to hear to justify the frenetic clickfest—I’m just curious, I want to see how far he’s come, I’m nosy, I just want a picture to show James when he’s older and asks about his father. It didn’t take me long to find a site with his tour route and links to purchase tickets. On there, I discovered he was scheduled to play some place called Harmony Hall, in Houston, in two weeks; general admission tickets were only forty dollars. I rationalized that I could spare enough to splurge on them and gas as long as I didn’t get a room. It was only seven hours drive time, roundtrip…I could do seven hours with one hand tied behind my back.

  Acting casual, and feeling like a sneaky sleaze ball, I approached my mother—and flat out lied. “Hey, would you be able to keep James for me in a couple of Saturdays? I have some mandatory classes I have to take for work. They’re being held in Houston.”

  “Will you have to stay the night?”

  “No, it’s just a one day thing. I’ll be driving back, but I won’t get here till late. The two of you will probably be asleep.”

  I didn’t mention my plans to Lucy, in case I chickened out and ran again, disappointing her—and because she couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. Instead, I slipped away a few hours early, and used the extra time to come up with a disguise against the fans that kept shouting my name, or Jessie’s girl, everywhere I went, and snapping my picture for proof that they saw me. Part of me—the saner part—quailed at the thought of being in a building, surrounded by hundreds of them, but nothing could persuade me not to go. I had to see him again.

  I deliberately arrived late, shuffling into the darkened room and keeping my head down as I threaded my way through the crowd of fans in the standing room only show, wearing my pink wig, pink beanie and pink tinted shades. I should have been more cautious, but the lack of chairs gave me a feeling of freedom—like nothing stood between me and the door if I needed to escape. The music urged me on, pulling me closer and closer to the stage, and I forgot to be afraid. Instead, I lowered my shades and stood on tiptoe, struggling for a glimpse of him. Jostled by a group heading the other way, I felt my hat and wig start to slide.

  “Hey, look—it’s her!”

  “It is! It’s Jessie’s girl.”

  “Grab her—get her to the stage.”

  “Jessie will be so happy!”

  My feet left the floor and I panicked. I struggled and fought, suspended above the heads of partying fans.

  “Let me go!” I screamed. I screamed again, in terror, as someone lost their grip and I fell toward the floor, face first. News reports of people dying, crushed beneath the feet of other drunk, over-exuberant fans flashed through my mind. I pictured my son’s face, and then my mom’s and Lucy’s and felt tears flood my eyes.

  If it hadn’t hurt so much, I might have felt more of a sense of relief when someone snagged my ponytail, and then my shoulder, abruptly and effectively stopping my fall, but instead of releasing me, they restarted my journey toward the other end of the room. In record time, I found myself deposited, mussed, bruised, and sore, on the edge of the stage, my disguise blown, and staring into the surprised green eyes of the very person I’d been trying to catch a glimpse of.

  “Callie!” His bewilderment was obvious.

  “Jessie, hi! You’re looking good.” Aware of all the eyes on me, I strove for a casual stance…yeah, I do shit like this all the time, yo. But on the inside, I was drowning in embarrassment, wishing I could disappear.

  “You do, too.” He knelt down, even closer. I balled my hands into fists to keep from reaching out to him. “So, how are you? How long are you here for?”

  “Actually, I was just leaving.” I bit my lip as, in an abrupt flipflop, every fiber of my being rejected the idea of being anywhere but right there. “I just popped in to see you in action.”

  “I wish you’d stay. We need to talk.”

  “Stay! Stay! Stay!” the crowd roared.

  He smiled, shaking the mic he held in his hand, “Oops, they heard me. They want you to stay, too.” Looking around, he asked, speaking into the mic, “Someone know where we might find a chair?” And before I realized what was going on, I found myself lifted to my feet, standing by his side. Grinning at me, obviously pleased with himself, he asked, “Where would you like to sit?”

  I pointed at a shadowy area, out of the way, where I could see but not be underfoot. “There is fine.”

  Relieved when he didn’t protest, I sat in my chair and watched through several songs, smiling and blushing and ducking my head every time he turned to sing to me. Then I saw her, on the opposite side of the stage. Julie. She was jumping up and down, waving at me—obviously excited to see me. I lifted my hand to wave back when I saw it…a telltale sparkle on the finger of her left hand. I pointed at my finger, then at her, and shrugged. She pointed at the center of the stage. Toward Jessie. My Jessie.

  Turning to him, I saw an odd expression cross his face. Guilt? Sadness? I wasn’t sure, but all of a sudden, I didn’t want to know what he wanted to talk to me about. I wanted to be home, surrounded by people who loved me. Leaping to my feet, my heart pounding, I looked around. Spotting an exit sign, I ran, exploding through the doors and into the night. An alarm screamed in my ears but I didn’t look back. I ran until I was breathless, then pushed myself to keep going until I reached the safety of my car. Seeing security people searching the parking lot, I thought fast and lay across the back floor, hidden from view by darkly tinted windows and a soft throw I’d forgotten to take in the house at some point prior.

  I stayed tucked away for what felt like hours, until I no longer heard voices shouting, nearly falling asleep. Then, jerking alert and moving fast, I crawled over the seat, fastened my seatbelt, and pulled out of my parking spot. I pealed out of there, hoping I wouldn’t be pulled over. I didn’t stop again, not even for gas or bathroom breaks, until I pulled into the driveway at my house. My nose was clogged from the tears I’d cried with every mile that passed. My eyes burned, so swollen I could barely see. My heart lay shattered in my chest, a million pieces with jagged edges that cut into me with every thought of him and her together. Who knew that all it would take to lose him to another would end up being two short weeks? Mentally, I beat myself up. I’d introduced them by giving her the ticket. It gave her the toehold she’d needed, thrusting her straight into his arms. I had no one to blame but myself for my loss.

  I stared at the darkened windows of my mother’s home, wishing I could see James, and feel his chubby little arms around my neck. I didn’t want to go into my empty house, all alone.

  Grabbing my phone, I texted Lucy…

  Are you awake?

  Yes. I’m surprised you are, though.

  Can I come over?

  Now? Of course.

  CHAPTER NINE

  **

  She opened the door seconds after I knocked, as if she’d hovered on the other side until I arrived. I had no doubts she most likely had, with an eye on the clock, timing me and wondering why I was taking so long. Odds were good that she heard me pull up, and forced herself to wait until I actually knocked before opening the door.

  I met her eyes and tried to smile, but I could tell she wasn’t buying it. She pulled me inside, where it was lighter, and gasped.

  I averted my face. “Don’t look at me. I know I look awful,” I protested, my voice hoarse from crying for so many hours.

  After pushing me down onto the couch, she hurried to the mini bar and poured me a drink. Detouring by the half bath in the hall, she brought a damp washcloth, too, so I could wipe my face. Setting a box of tissues within reach, she finally dropped down beside me and demanded, “Oh my god, Callie, what happened?”

  I blew my nose, cleared my throat, and whispered, “I went to another concert.”

  “Jessie’s concert?” I nodded, and she continued, “Was
there a riot? Did you get hurt? Who did this to you?”

  “I did. I have no one to blame but me.” I told her everything that had happened, wiping fresh tears as I spoke.

  “And you’re sure she was pointing at him? Did he have any band members nearby?”

  “He did, but if you could have seen the look on his face. Oh, Lucy, he looked guilty.”

  “And you jumped to the worst conclusion you could think of.” She shook her head, pursing her lips in disapproval. “Girl, you gonna break your neck, doing that shit. If I told you once, I told you a thousand times—“

  “I know. Presume nothing until you hear it from the horse’s mouth.” I stared at my hands. “But you also said if I waited too long, I’d lose him to another girl.”

  “It’s been how long, though? Two weeks? You can’t even break a bad habit in two weeks.” She muttered something indecipherable under her breath, then groaned like she was being tortured, and asked, “Was she standing close to anyone? Anyone who might have been between her and Jessie?”

  I thought back. “I dunno…maybe the drummer…or the keyboardist. The speakers in that place were huge, so they were grouped pretty close together.”

  “Oh, good God almighty.” She shot me a sour look and grabbed her phone. “It’s like pulling teeth. What was her name? Julie what?”