by Lily Silver
Looking down at her short silk nightie and matching robe, Jessie smiled at the caustic brassy, fake redhead. Sherry was an old friend from their hungry days. A former waitress in downtown LA, she’d kept them fed on table scraps from other customers and looked the other way if the boys made off with the ketchup bottle or a couple of donuts from time to time. When they started making real money, they all agreed to repay her, but charity wasn’t something the tough as nails Georgia woman would accept. She insisted on earning her keep, so they made her their maid, paying her a full salary while she only worked three half-days, from noon until 4 p.m.
“My old man is back in town.” The spry woman moved back and forth with her mop as she spoke. “Wants me to move back to Georgia with him.”
“Are you going to?” Jessie tiptoed around the wet spots to the fridge for a frappuccino.
“I don’t know. He’s an asshole.” She grinned. “But he’s got money now, so he says.” Sherry stopped mopping, giving Jessie a strange look. “You look bedazzled, kid. Did your boyfriend rock you to sleep?”
“No.” Jessie choked on her drink, wiping the cool taupe liquid from her chin with the back of her hand. “He’s really sweet.” She added uncomfortably.
“They all are, kid, when they’re feeling too tight in the jeans.”
“What about you? Are you going to go back to Georgia?” Jessie changed the subject. “Do you still love Al?” Jessie asked, curious about the man Sherry had left years ago, but who came to see her, asking Sherry to come back to him every few months.
“He’s okay, when he doesn't drink. My girls live here. I’d miss them.” Sherry wrung out the mop and leaned it against the corner of the cupboard. She grabbed her pack of cigarettes, pulled out a slim white cylinder and lit up. She sauntered into the living room, ready for one of her many breaks. “What do you think I should do, Kid?”
“Go with your heart.”
The older woman rubbed her chin with her thumb, balancing the cigarette between two fingers. “I already did that, Honey. That’s why I ended up moving out here, to get away from my aching’ heart.”
“He’s older now, more mature.” Jessie added. “Perhaps living without you has changed him.”
“You’re young. Full of dreams. Men grow older but they never change, sweetie, and you can’t depend upon them.” Sherry sighed, pacing the living room, indecision marring her brow about her own future with her ex-husband. “They steal your heart and they break it, and then they beg you to come back to them after you’ve taped it back together again. I just don’t know what to do this time.”
“You can always come back here if it doesn’t work out.”
The older woman looked at her as if she were empty-headed.
“I swear it. I’ll wire you the money if it doesn’t work for you in Georgia.”
“You’re sweet, Kid. Too sweet.”
“I mean it, Sherry. You were so good to us.”
“Ha, I was just doing what anyone would do, giving some kids a few scraps instead of throwing it in the dumpsters out back for the homeless to pick through. That hardly warrants a lifelong pension.”
“No one else cared that we were starving. Just do it. You love him. And he apparently loves you. He wouldn’t keep coming out here asking you to marry him again if he didn’t. He would have moved on by now.” Jessie finished her drink and rinsed the bottle out in the sink before placing it in the recycling bin.
The older woman shrugged. “His business brings him out here every few months.” Sherry squashed the remains of her cigarette in the ashtray and brought the full offering out to the kitchen. “That’s the real reason he comes, not just to see me.”
“Well, there you have it. You can fly out with him and visit your daughters.”
“Ain’t the same.” Sherry dumped the ashes and then rinsed the ashtray under the kitchen faucet. “You’ll see, Kid. You’ll have babies, and you won’t want to be half way across the country, not knowing how they are, if they’re getting by, even when their grown up.”
The words stung, even though Jessie knew Sherry was a better mother than her own. A sick feeling grew deep in her soul. What would it have been like to have a mother like Sherry? A mother who actually wanted you around and worried over you? Missed you and wanted you to come home?
Jessie mumbled an excuse and retreated to her room.
Stop it, stop feeling sorry for yourself, she commanded as she stepped into the shower. No sense pining after something that had never been and would never be. As a child she’d been envious of girls with kind, benevolent mothers. The moms that cared when you scraped your knee or if the kids teased you. The mom who sat near your bed when you were ill instead of going out to the bars and leaving you home alone with your twin brother, unconcerned that you might need her in the night.
What was Lex going to think when he found out her mother is mentally unbalanced?
Too late, Jessie. He knows if his mother got a call from Marcie.
Jessie blinked back tears as she exited the shower. She quickly dried off and dressed. She was embarrassed about being rushed to the ER due to a frickin’ panic attack. And over what--another one of Mom’s emotional tirades? Jack was right. It was time to pull the plug on that relationship. Time to kick that dragon out of the castle. She was going to change the phone number to the beach house; today. It was unlisted for security, but then she went and gave it out to her parents when she’d announced her engagement.
Stupid Jessie! Looking for something that was never there; love and acceptance. Jack was right. She was dreaming if she thought the family would come out and be all happy and huggy over her nuptials. Hell, she was dreaming if she believed there could ever be a happily ever after with any man in this life.
Lex kept pushing her to fit into his plans. He kept insisting they get married, quickly. She didn’t feel right about it and he wouldn’t listen to her. It was like a modern day fairytale. Was he cursed by a witch and if he didn’t have a wife by the end of the summer he’d turn into a troll or something?
The more she thought of it, the more agitated Jessie became about the situation.
As she slipped the lace camisole top over her head and pulled it down, Jessie noticed the black and blue mark on her arm from the IV. Cute, real cute. Her inner elbow had a huge blossom of purple. She looked like a victim of domestic violence. If she went out in public, she’d have to wear a jacket so the press didn’t start speculating about how her arm became bruised and by whom, as was their habit.
“Okay, Jessie. Hot sex with the rock god next door cleared your head. Now use it. Stop tripping over your heart and be logical.” She said aloud as she started detangling her wet hair. Lex wanted it now; he wanted it on his terms. She wasn’t ready. And this business with her parents only made everything worse. She felt rushed, backed into the corner, expected to appease another person’s emotional needs at the expense of her own.
She couldn’t take any more pressure--from anyone.
Maybe it was time to step back, slow down and let things cool between them.
Yeah. Time to take back control. Control freak and proud. She saluted her reflection as she remembered Jack’s unwarranted advice about controlling every aspect in her life. Maybe that was the whole deal, why she felt uncomfortable with the marriage gig. Lex was making the rules in this relationship and pushing her to conform to his needs.
Well, she had her own needs and her own plans.
“It’s my life . . .” Jessie started singing the Bon Jovi classic, feeling empowered as she shouted the lyrics at her reflection. “My heart is like an open highway. Like Frankie said’ I did it my way.’ . . .” She dropped the brush and segued into a session of air guitar, singing and rocking as if she were live onstage as she imagined the heavy metal guitar riffs in her head. “You better stand tall when they’re calling you out, don’t bend, don’t break-- don’t back down . . . IT’S-MY-LIFE . . .”
The doorbell rang as Jessie played to her audience of one
in the bathroom mirror. She heard the intercom beep in the bedroom. She slipped through the bathroom door to press the intercom on the wall near her bed. “Yeah?”
“Mr. Wonderful is here to see you.” Sherry’s voice transferred through the old intercom speakers. “Looks worried. Should I let him in or tell him you’re not home?”
Jessie frowned. “Worried?” She didn’t know why Lex should be worried.
“Yeah. Has a huge bouquet. Red Roses. At least a dozen if not more.”
“Tell him I’ll be down in five minutes.”
“Aw, Kid, you’re too easy.” Sherry scolded and then whispered in a barely audible tone, “You gotta let ‘em sweat a little. Keeps ‘em on their toes.”
“Just let him in, Sherry.” She bit her lip and returned to the bathroom to study her appearance. A lace tank top complimented the curve of her breasts. The emerald belly ring glistened provocatively from above her hip hugging jeans. Her hair was still a tangled mess. She quickly finished combing it out so she didn’t look as if she’d just left the concert hall.
The expensive perfume Darrell had given her for her birthday sat on the crystal tray, unused as yet, though it had been months since she’d turned twenty-four. She lifted the glass plug, and an exotic, tantalizing essence wafted up to her nostrils. She dipped the elegant plug, and rubbed it on her neck, and the insides of her wrists.
Who are you kidding? He’s thirty-something, nothing you do will make you seem sophisticated in his eyes.
While she deliberated in front of the mirror, a knock sounded at her bedroom door. “Oh, shit.” Jessie breathed, the moment of truth upon her. She wiped her palms on her jeans and went to answer the door.
The sight of Lex filling her doorway, Lex--in the flesh--made her insides turn about. He was drop dead gorgeous, deliciously provocative in his dark attire, the leather blazer, the long, muscular thighs shrouded in tight black denim, and that cautious smile.
“Hi.” He breathed, seduction dripping from those sensual lips. “I missed you. I do have showers at my place. You didn’t need to come here for that.”
Jessie stood still, drinking in the sight of him, swept away by his physical presence. This wasn’t going to be easy. Telling him to slow down was like trying to stop a cyclone. She grinned as the image of the cartoon Tasmanian devil came to mind.
He brought his hand back from behind his back, offering an enormous bouquet of red roses without comment.
“Oh.” It was all she could manage through the racing of her heart.
The second bouquet she’d ever received from a man. And they were from the same man. The first time he’d given her white roses. Jessie closed her eyes and sniffed, embracing the scent of love.
“Please, forgive me, Jess.”
Jessie opened her eyes, remembering Sherry’s observation. Nervous? Worried? The magnificent Lex? It was there, she realized, getting past his handsomeness, an uneasiness in his eyes, and an unsteadiness in his rich voice.
“For what?” She couldn’t imagine what he needed to apologize for. She’d been a royal pain this past week.
Lex stood with his arms spread, his hands resting on the doorjamb on either side of her. He looked down at his boots, then back up at her, as if struggling with whatever he felt he needed to apologize for. “This morning---I didn’t mean for us to make love---not like that. It seemed a little rough. I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Jessie felt heat rising in her face. “I asked you for it rough, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but, you were upset. It was wrong of me to take advantage of you at such an emotional time. When I came home today and you were gone, I sensed that you were shook up and that you needed a little space.”
Okay, this gut instinct stuff is starting to get to me. It’s downright spooky, all the more reason to put the brakes on this affair.
“I’m more upset with myself for being such a pain in the ass these past days.” Jessie replied in an even tone, steeling herself to turn down their relationship a few decibels as she turned away from his sultry regard. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you.” She sniffed the roses again, feeling like a traitor for what she was about to say to the man she loved.
“Just come home with me, Babe.” He smiled. “It’ll be all right.”
Babe. How she hated that glib word tripping off the tongue of every guy who ever had a boner in his jeans. The annoyance she felt at the use of that hated endearment made it easier to be curt with him.
“Lex, I’ve been thinking, things are pretty screwed up for me right now. I’m not ready for a serious relationship. I think we need to slow it down a bit.”
His exuberance melted into disbelief. “You are getting too worked up over those harassing calls, that’s all, just--”
“No.” Jessie held up her free hand firmly, and took a step back to prevent him from wrapping his arms about her. “Listen to me, Lex. Please? You’ve been pushing me. You’re moving in too fast. It’s getting scary. I told you it was too much, too fast. Now, my family is upset that I’m marrying so quickly. I need for us to step back, spend some time away from each other. Take a breather. There’s no need to rush off to the altar like Cinderella trying to make it home before the stroke of midnight, is there?”
His eyes hardened. “I see.” He said in a cold, tense voice that sliced through her heart. “Pardon me for wanting you to marry me.” He lowered his arms from the doorjamb, turned on his heel and stalked down the hall.
Jessie followed him to the hall. “Lex--wait--all I’m asking for is a little time--”
“--and all I’m asking for is a little trust.” He muttered as he descended the iron stairs. Each step he took away from her was punctuated by the iron echo in the stairwell his boots made until he reached the bottom. “And I’m tired of asking, Jessie.”
Chapter Eighteen
“It’s over, just like that?” Steve queried as the three male members of Heartless stared incredulously at Jessie.
They sat in the chic living room of their rented home, stunned by her news that the wedding was off, and worse, the entire relationship with Lex was off. She told them how he’d just walked away from her when she suggested they slow down and take some time to clear their heads.
“He’ll come around.” Jack assured her. “Give it a week. He’ll be back.”
Jessie nodded in acknowledgement of her brother’s words. In her heart she knew it was over. A rock legend courted her and asked her to marry him. She said no, and he persisted. He won her heart. She said yes and then all hell broke loose. So, you asked him to take it slow, and he blew up at you and walked away.
“Yeah . . . .” Darrell interrupted her dangerous thoughts as he crossed the room to bestow a brotherly hug upon her. “It’s just his pride, Jess. He was proposing the big M and you rebuffed him. That’s gotta hurt. Give him a few days to lick his wounds, like Jack said. He’ll be back. He’d be crazy to let you go.”
His gallant gesture brought a deep ache. Jessie knew she had to be pretty bad off for Darrell to refrain from flirting with her or making some disgusting remark about being her lover.
Tears came, ignoring her steely resolve to be strong, to not give in to the pain. The three males surrounding her seemed to wince with each pained sob that escaped her lips.
“Look, I don’t see what the big deal is.” Jack began, grimacing at her tortured sobs. “You love the guy, he asked you to marry him. Just stop running away from him and tell him about mom’s mental illness. If he’s serious about you, it won’t matter, if not, he’ll bolt, either way, you’ll have the--”
The house phone rang and the gathering held its breath with anticipation.
“I’ll get it.” Steve held out his hands while everyone remained frozen in place.
Jessie straightened her spine, unconsciously thinking of curt and rude remarks she should say to Lex for walking out on her in such a huff three days ago. She wiped her eyes, sniffled and even cleared her throat to give every impression that she wasn’
t the least bit upset about his behavior, only angry with him for his childishness.
“Okay . . . .yeah . . . we’re finished as far as the lyrics and stuff. Wait . . . I’ll ask, they’re all here except for Kyra.” Steve put his hand over the phone and offered Jessie an apologetic look. “Sorry, Jess. It’s Max, he wants to know when we can start in the recording studio. StarSign wants to book time, are we ready to lay the instrumental tracks?”
Everyone sighed and looked at everyone else. It was their third album, after two previous that had reached the top ten of the music charts.
“Yes.” Jack affirmed. “Tell ‘em we’re ready.”
His enthusiasm buoyed them up once again as they faced the moment of decision, going into the studio with their roughly sketched songs and making them into something salable for the music industry.
Darrell gave a thumbs up and Jessie nodded gravely.
Steve relayed their decision to their manager. Max informed them that they would be expected to start recording in the studio at the beginning of next week.
“Wow.” Steve set the phone down with a sigh. “That’s it. Grab your weapons, guys. No one gets out of the basement until we get it wrapped to final copy. You know how Charlie Zands is about having screw ups that delay his production schedule.”
They looked at one another, laughed and hugged collectively before rushing down the winding iron staircase single file to their makeshift jam studio in the recreation room on the basement level.
“What about Kyra?” Steve asked Jessie.
“She won’t return my calls.”
“Screw her.” Jack snorted. “Some friend, taking your ex-boyfriend’s side.”
“She’s engaged to Mike, who just happens to be Lex’s best friend.” Jessie defended. “And she was responsible for getting us together.”
“Yeah, but---” Jack slipped his bass over his shoulder and adjusted the strap as Steve keyed up the microphones so they could record their jam session and play it back for their own proofing before they went into the studio with their newest work.