by Lily Silver
“It’s different.” Jack sipped his drink. “You’re a girl. And my sister. It’s my job to make sure you come home at night. Isn’t that right, Lex?”
Lex shrugged at the man from his seated position on the couch. “Hey, don’t bring me into this. I’d like to stay on the good side of your sister, considering I keep asking her to marry me, and she has yet to agree.”
Jessie hissed. Damn it. Wasn’t it enough that Jack was acting all protective and caveman on her, now Lex was bringing his marriage proposal into the argument, tipping the boat in his favor heavily by doing so.
The boat being Jack, her coke-brained brother.
When she glowered at Lex for bringing up his proposal yet again, no doubt in the hope of garnering Jack’s unswerving support in his cause, Lex smiled slyly at her and then raised his hands in mock chagrin.
And then it hit her, clear between the eyes. Lex was distracting her brother, very effectively, from the greater truth between them, their recent lovemaking.
“Yeah, what about that, Jess?” Jack inquired after tipping his glass and emptying the contents of it into his gullet. “Why don’t you marry the dude? It’s not like he’s a scientologist or something.”
* * *
“If it makes any difference, I feel good about the whole thing.” Jack sucked down a generous portion of his drink and wiped his lips carelessly.
“Why don’t you marry him?” Jessie teased, stirring her margarita.
The siblings were sharing a rare moment alone at home on the evening after Jessie’s Black Pearls and Hot Sex in the Bathtub date with Lex.
“I like breasts.” Jack deadpanned. “Seriously, why not jump the broom? Lex seems like a nice guy.” Jack leaned back and propped his legs on the glass table. “And he’s not making you go through a stringent interview process at the cult headquarters to get hitched, like others I could mention. Ol’ Tom lost another wife. Or should I say, she took their kid and ran away from Mr. Wonderful and his religious entourage. See, you could do a lot worse, Jess.”
Jessie sipped the icy lime drink. “How much is he paying you to convince me?”
“Nothing. I had him checked out. No police record, no substance abuse, no ties to the Mafia, no dead bodies in the backyard, no hidden offspring. Christ, talk about disillusionment, finding out your Rock Hero is a normal, nice guy next door.”
“Jack, how could you?” Jessie sprang forward, uncurling her legs from beneath her and nearly spilling her drink on both of them.
“You don’t think I’d bury my head in the sand and let you marry some whack job? We grew up with crazy, I ain’t lettin’ you marry it. Lex has a reputation, sure, but it’s like those pro wrestlers who snarl and threaten onstage but off stage they’re big teddy bears. Yeah, I hired a private investigator. Actually, Max did the hiring for me.”
“Ah, you checked him out and now you’re sitting here trying to get me drunk so you can convince me. Kind of Medieval, isn’t it?”
Jack chuckled gleefully. He was obviously feeling his liquor. “If we were doing the dark ages, I’d just make you marry the dude, cuz I could, and that would shut you up.”
“You wish. I’d plot my way free of that one. I’d find a witch to curse you.”
“Hey, that’s harsh, don’t cha think? It would be for your own good.”
Jessie set down her glass carefully, feeling unsteady. “I need time, Jack.”
“For what? Do you love the guy or not?”
“Yes, but--”
“No buts. You love him. Embrace life, Jess. Quit worrying about what might happen tomorrow or next year. Just do it, Jess.”
“You’re drunk.” Jessie noted with an amused laugh. She grasped the stem of her drink on the table and tipped her margarita glass to inhale the last of the slushy brew.
“Ditto. Have another?”
She nodded, relishing this rare time they had together.
“One margarita coming up.” Jack rose, making a precarious walk to the open kitchen across the room. After a few clunky noises and some splashes she heard the blender whirring again.
She gazed out the transparent wall of their living room. Before her was the moonlit sea. This room was a perfect place to be at any time of day, as the unhindered vista of the Pacific Ocean filled the glass wall facing the beach. The living room, like much of the first floor, was minimalist in decor, very stark with white walls, black furniture and glass topped curved wrought iron tables. It worked, as what could possibly compete with the stunning Malibu shore and the vivid blue ocean comprising one wall of the room? A wrap around veranda made it easy to move from living room to outdoors to enjoy the invigorating sea breezes and California sunshine. Jessie loved living in Malibu. She wondered if the star who leased this house to them would be willing to sell it. Properties in Malibu, particularly right on the ocean were difficult to come by. Those who owned ocean front houses them kept them forever.
Suddenly Jack stood before her holding out the favored opalescent green potion. “Drink up, my dear.” He said in a falsetto voice, channeling an evil witch in a Disney cartoon. “It will help you forgot all those nasty doubts you have about Prince Charming.”
“Would you marry a girl you’ve barely known a month?” Jessie asked as Jack sank down next to her.
“Hell, no. I still have years of good partying before I’m ready to start that gig. But we’re talking about you, not me; the serious one. What are you so worried about?”
“He doesn’t really know me, not the real me. What if--”
“What ifs don’t count.” Jack sat forward. “Listen, I’m your brother and I’m the last person who wants some guy to waltz in here and take you away from me. If I think Lex is good for you, then, hell, you better take notice, cuz I’m basically a selfish guy.”
“I’m glad we agree on that.”
“So, you’re going to go ahead and say yes?”
“I want to---but--”
“Christ.” Jack sank back heavily on the sofa, jolting Jessie so her drink overflowed on her bare legs. “Here we go again.”
“Ah.” Jessie gasped, grabbing the edge of his baggy shirt to sop up the icy brew.
“Knock it off, damn it. That’s cold.” Jack jerked his shirt hem away from her.
“He’s in such a hurry. It’s freakin’ weird.” She wiped her hands on her own shirt as she spoke. “I told him that day on the beach that I needed time, so he asks me if three weeks is enough. Don’t you think that’s sort of creepy?”
“In California, this close to Hollywood? Aren’t you the naive one?”
“What about Mom?”
“She’s in Wisconsin, Jess. She can’t do a damned thing about it.”
“What if Lex finds out?”
“That’s it.” Jack slapped his knee. “I’ll tell him, okay. If he loves you it won’t matter.”
“Don’t you dare say a word.” Jessie snapped, punching him in the arm.
“Ow. Jess, he’ll find out; sooner or later.”
“You can’t tell him. It’s too bizarre. When we try to tell the truth people think we’re making it up. They think we’re nuts. You can’t do this.”
Jack nodded slowly. He sat forward, thinking for a moment, and then he turned to her, his green eyes fixing her with infinite sorrow. “Jess,” He placed a large, reassuring hand on her leg. “The school system didn’t know how to deal with that kind of abuse. We didn’t have bruises. It was her word against ours and she made sure we sounded like liars. You have to trust him, Jess. Give him a chance to understand before you just damn him for being like everyone else.”
“I can’t--” Jessie whispered. Her limbs started shivering sporadically as the carefully tamped down fear and pain rose to the fore. “I don’t want him to know about Marcie’s illness. There’s always the chance that if I do say yes, she’ll come out here for the wedding and behave herself.”
“Yeah, maybe she’ll leave the flying monkeys home. Maybe she won’t turn into Sybil at the rehearsal dinner.
That could happen--with somebody else’s mom.” Jack snorted. “Jess, I’m telling you, inviting our mother to your wedding is like playing with explosives. You can’t depend upon her to be normal. Just marry the guy and forget to tell mom and dad, okay? For me. Please. Save us both the pain.”
Chapter Thirteen
“What about the royalties?” Jessie answered their agent via the Bluetooth pinned to her ear as she poured the batter into the waffle iron the following morning.
“Ask him if I can have a framed proof photo for my collection.” Jack wagged a finger at her as he sat nursing his coffee at the kitchen table. Jessie shook her head at him reprovingly as she tried to make out Max’s words above her brother’s remarks.
“Okay, it’s in the clause? Those exact words?” Jessie opened the fridge. She bent to rifle through the beer bottles for the missing bottle of pancake syrup. “Good. Another thing, Jack wants to know if he can get a proof copy for his collection, so he says.”
Jack gave her the thumbs up sign as she placed the syrup and butter on the table.
“Max wants to know if you want the same one Fender chooses for distribution to the stores?” She asked. Jack nodded. “Yeah, he does. Okay, I’ll tell him.”
Jessie hung up the phone, removed the bud from her ear and attended to the waffle batter sizzling out of the press in a slow moving beige blob.
“When do we start the shoot?” Jack yawned and scratched his bare chest.
“Next Tuesday. Max said to tell you no drugs, he doesn’t want you looking stoned in the photos.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jack waved her rebuke. The doorbell rang. “Get the door, will you?”
Jessie gave him a penetrating look. “Excuse me?” She ladled the serving plate with steaming waffles and then poured more batter into the machine.
“All right, all ready.” Jack snarled as he went to answer the insistent ringing. He returned just as Jessie was sitting down to breakfast. He tossed a small package at her.
“Who is it from?” She asked suspiciously. “There’s no return address.” She bit into the luscious stack she’d poured a generous amount of butter and syrup over.
“Hell, it’s not ticking, open it.” Jack scoffed as he smothered the waffle squares with butter and maple syrup. “Hey, whose been hitting this like candy?” He held the near empty bottle up to the window light. “Have to order another case from back home.”
“Go ahead.” Jessie murmured between bites. “The number is on the computer desktop over there.” She pointed to the small alcove between the kitchen and the living room harboring a desktop computer the band used as a communal office for shared files. “It’s in the file named ‘important phone contacts’.”
“You know I always leave that technical crap for you.”
“Yeah. Calling a maple syrup farm in Wisconsin and charging a case of maple syrup to your credit card, really tough, Jack.”
“Testy this morning, aren’t we?” Jack opened the bottle and poured the golden syrup straight into his mouth. “Too many margaritas?”
Jessie ignored him as she turned the small package around in front of her, feeling it, studying the postmark. “It’s postmarked from here in Malibu.”
“Open it, already.”
“Hey, save some for me, you sugar junkie.” Darrel slumped into the chair beside Jack and grabbed the bottle from his hand with a scowl. “No wonder we go through this stuff like water. This is the last bottle. You’ll have to order some more, Jess.”
Jessie looked at the pair of them, too lazy to order the maple syrup they loved or the Leinenkugel beer that also came from Wisconsin, or pay the rent, make a grocery list for the housekeeper and any number of various chores around here. Why on earth was she stalling about marrying Lex? She was already married--to three lazy pigs who expected her to take care of everything in the household. One guy ought to be a breeze.
She pushed her plate aside and opened the package. As she suspected, it was from Lex, a neatly scripted note and an iPod. Hot Pink, a lovely color choice, a teeny little iPod Nano. The note said: This is my heart, but Savage Garden says it better than I could. I love you always. Truly-Madly-Deeply, Always Yours throughout eternity, Lex
Jess pressed the button to turn on the device. One song was on it. A single release from 1998 by the band called Savage Garden. The name of the song was Truly Madly Deeply, the words Lex had so cleverly underlined in his note. She didn’t remember the song. Jessie left the pigs to their trough as she went upstairs to her bedroom to savor the offering alone. She slipped the earphones in, pushed the button to play the song Lex gifted her with. Soft music began and then the lead singer brought forth lush lyrics that caressed her very soul.
“I’ll be your dream . . . I’ll be your wish . . . I’ll be your fantasy . . . I’ll be your hope, I’ll be your love, be everything that you need . . .” The lead singer of Savage Garden crooned with a deliciously silken voice.
Jessie sighed and nearly purred as she re-read Lex’s note while listening to the song. He said these words were carved in his heart, even though someone else originally penned them. She closed her eyes and smiled, entranced by the words. The song ended. The silence and her melting heart beckoned her to play it again, to savor it. Lex was using the music to make love to her soul. She pressed repeat, and stood gazing out at the serene beach with her hands pressed to her heart.
Beyond the music, she heard the faint sound of the bedroom door creaking open. It was Duncan pushing his way through the door to be near her. Her Scottie couldn’t stand to be separated from Jessie when she was home, even when she was using the bathroom.
“Good boy.” She murmured. “Now, go lay down.”
“Only if you come with me.” A deep, sensual voice startled Jessie. She turned abruptly to find an amused Lex standing behind her.
“Oh.” Jessie cooed, reaching for him and letting him wrap his arms about her.
“Do I get a treat?” He teased, eyeing her with puppy eyes. “A good morning kiss? After all, you did just say I was a good boy.”
“Somehow the term good doesn’t fit the image of the infamous Lex.”
“I’ve the sudden urge to lick your ivory skin until you’re drowning in passion.” He returned with a grin, squeezing her butt playfully.
“Down boy,” She slapped his hard derriere and grinned. “Give a girl a chance to catch her breath. Your gift is . . . inspiring.”
“So, have you come to a decision? Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.” He repeated, shouting the word over and over as he lifted her in his arms and whirled her about in a circle. “Yes. Yes.”
Duncan and Ozzy came rushing in to see what all the excitement was about. Both dogs barked happily as they danced in circles and jumped about, seeming to capture the spirit of Lex’s exuberance.
He stopped shouting his victory just long enough to capture her lips in a possessive kiss. Jessie wrapped her arms about his neck and devoured him with her mouth.
Yes, Jack was right. She had to just embrace the moment and follow her heart. She was going to marry Elvis--albeit the 21st century equivalent of the King.
Yes. Lex was her dream, her fantasy, her friend, her lover, her dark, blue eyed angel.
Jessie loved everything about living here. Only in Malibu could you become engaged to the rock star next door.
* * *
“Lex is evil, Jess.” Michelle, Jessie’s older sister insisted as Jessie paced the confines of the living room with the cordless land-line phone in her hand.
Jessie had called their parents, who were less than exuberant about the affair, and now she had just informed her sister of her impending nuptials. It would be a small affair, just a few friends and family. Lex agreed to keep it low key.
“Our pastor cautioned us against such lurid music for years. It has subliminal messages in it.” Michelle continued.
“Alexander Coltrane is nothing like his stage persona. It’s an act, duh?”
; “God loves you. He has someone better for you, someone who isn’t involved in Satanism.”
“Lex is not a Satanist.”
“Have you asked him about his religious beliefs?”
Jessie rolled her eyes at the ceiling and tried really, really hard not to swear. Her religious sister was nothing if not persistent. “I don’t need to ask him.”
Jessie resisted the urge to hang up on her delusional sister. “Hold on,” She growled and put the phone down on the counter for a second so she could take deep, cleansing breaths. This was changing from a pile of dog shit to a mountain of elephant crap faster than she could spell manure. After counting to ten, she picked up the phone again and asked, “Okay, Michelle, nice to chat, but what I really need to know is this: are you coming to my wedding or not?”
“Don’t you think this is all a bit rushed?”
“No.” Yeah, but she wasn’t about to admit it to her quirky sister. She walked around the granite top island in the kitchen to the fridge, pulled out a cold Frappuccino, twisted the lid and took a deep swig of the cold coffee beverage. “Where do you get all this stuff? Why do you say my fiancé is a Satanist?”
“I heard it on Dr. Richard’s Christian Family Today program. And Pastor Marty talks about these celebrities and their secret societies all the time in our Bible Study group. They even know things about the President that would shock most--”
Damn it. I had to ask. Jessie fumed. She set the glass bottle on the granite counter and winced at the near splinting clink. She picked up the bottle again and inspected the bottom. Yep, there was a crack. “Still addicted to the same old conspiracy theories, I see. News flash; They said the same thing years ago about Alice Cooper, Gene Simmons and Ozzy Osbourne. And it’s not true. Hello, I know, because I’ve actually met them. Geez, Michelle, stop drinking the Purple Kool-Aid, would you? Back when I was in grade school your group claimed Amy Grant was a devil worshipper, and she was a Christian singer. Are you coming to my wedding?”