Slow Burn

by Isabel Morin

  “I’m just not getting the sound I want. It doesn’t feel right.”

  “What would feel right? Beth?”

  Jesse walked a few feet away, not sure how to answer. What the hell was he doing, really? Had he been trying fruitlessly to make these women sound like Beth?

  Fucking hell.

  “She’s what I hear in my head,” he admitted. “Nothing else sounds right.”

  “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” Stu said, nodding like he was encouraged by his revelation. “The question is, can you adjust your expectations, or do we get Beth in here?”

  The thought of seeing her, of having a reason to call and ask her to come, sent his heart racing. In the five weeks since he last saw her he hadn’t gone a whole hour without thinking about her. But he was also scared of seeing her and wanting her too much, of seeing in her eyes she didn’t feel the same. Scared of wanting her without having any way to keep her.

  He’d hurt her, that was obvious. Well, it hadn’t been obvious immediately, because he was an idiot, but she must have cared about him or she wouldn’t have been so upset at his lame-ass offer. She wouldn’t have run away and ignored his calls.

  He needed to try harder. Needed to see her, touch her, sing with her again.

  He waited until he was back home, then he sat down and stared at his phone. Would she even pick up, or was she so mad she’d ignore his call? What would he say if it went to voicemail?

  Christ, he’d never been one to over-think things, but he was making himself crazy. He dialed her number.

  “Hello?”

  That husky voice. He’d been hearing that voice in his dreams, whispering in his ear.

  “Beth. It’s Jesse.”

  “I know.” He could hear her wariness. “Is something wrong?”

  “Kind of, but not like in a life or death way.” He stopped and huffed out a nervous laugh. “Actually, it feels like life or death to me.”

  “What’s going on?”

  He took a deep breath and prayed he could make his plea sound appealing rather than desperate. “Well, the thing is, I’m recording, and we’ve kind of hit a snag. I’m hoping you can help out.”

  “How would I do that?”

  “It’s about ‘Better Off.’ We’re trying to finish the track. I’ve tried three different singers, but it’s…they’re not you.”

  “Oh.”

  He rushed on. “Stu’s about ready to kill me. Hell, everyone’s about ready to kill me, and I can’t blame them. But I just want to record the best version, the one I hear in my head, and that means you.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Just think about it. We’d put you up in a nice hotel, you’d get paid for your time and a cut of the royalties.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

  That was it. No explanation, nothing about another job she couldn’t get away from. Which meant she didn’t want to.

  He searched for a way to keep her talking. “Did Stu tell you about the live recording? We’re releasing it on Youtube, just like you suggested.”

  “I didn’t realize there’d be a video. What show is it from?”

  “The Flagstaff show. There were other good nights, but that was the best.”

  She was quiet on the other end, but at least she hadn’t hung up yet.

  He tired again. “You were really something, you know that? It’s not like I didn’t know it, but looking back at the footage…”

  “I didn’t realize anyone was filming us,” she said.

  “Neither did I, but one of Stu’s friends did it on a whim and showed it to him later. It’s not perfect since he wasn’t up there with us, but you get the feel of it.”

  “I should probably go, but it was good to hear from you. I’m sorry I can’t help.”

  “No, I get it. You didn’t sign up for that. I had to ask, though.”

  “Take care, Jesse.”

  “Right. You too, Beth.”

  He kept the phone pressed to his ear in case by some miracle she didn’t hang up. But she did. He whipped the phone across the room and was almost disappointed when it bounced off the wall and landed without breaking.

  He was an idiot. What woman would get on a plane to do a favor for a guy who’d treated her like some dumb groupie? He must have been delusional to think Beth would go for that. She’d made it clear she wasn’t going to let her life revolve around him anymore.

  Which left him with one last option. He’d go to her.

  ***

  “Look, I was all for bringing her here, but going out there is insane. We’re paying out the nose for studio time here, for Christ’s sake.”

  It was three in the morning and he and Stu were eating at an all-night diner around the corner from the studio. Jesse had expected an argument from Stu, so he took this in stride.

  “I just need a couple of days. You can lay down some of the extra drums and guitar while I’m gone.”

  Stu stared at him. “You’re telling me you’ll leave your own session. If I had suggested that you’d have taken my head off.”

  “Well, yeah, normally I would want to be there. But this is an emergency. Anyway, we can always do them over if I don’t like it.”

  Stu grunted. “So I’m supposed to find you a studio in Vegas for when?”

  “Next weekend.”

  “Wonderful. That should be easy.” He sighed and wiped his mouth. Half his omelet was still on his plate, but he looked too tired to finish it.

  Jesse ignored his sarcasm. “It’s just a couple of tracks. I can handle that.”

  Stu signaled the waitress for another coffee. “I’ll make some calls tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

  “You’ve been owing me for years.”

  Jesse didn’t argue.

  Stu took a deep swallow of his refreshed coffee. “She called me a couple of weeks ago.”

  “What? Who called you?”

  “Beth, Jesse. Who do you think we’re talking about?”

  “Why would she call you?”

  “She’s setting up her business and wanted to know if I’d be a reference. I said I would and told her I’d keep my ears open for her.”

  “Why didn’t you tell her we’d hire her?”

  Stu closed his eyes, as if Jesse were wearing him out.

  “It’s not such a stupid idea,” Jesse said, pressing his advantage. If that’s what it was when Stu looked like he was giving up. “She knows the business now, she knows us. She’s got the right background and she’s smart. We could do a lot worse.”

  “It just so happens I agree. But she’s not interested in working for us. She said so.”

  He didn’t have an answer for that. It was starting to look like Beth didn’t want anything to do with him, a thought that started an ache in his chest he couldn’t ignore.

  The next Friday afternoon Jesse sat in a rented car, listening to music while waiting for Beth to come home. He’d been sitting there for two hours already, the coffee he’d drunk souring in his nervous stomach.

  It didn’t help that he felt like a stalker, and that she was almost certain to be pissed. What he was doing was manipulative as well as desperate. It was just beginning to hit him that neither of those things would make him more appealing.

  He shifted in his seat and was just starting to contemplate a run to the bathroom at the Starbucks down the block when a familiar Subaru pulled into the parking lot. The door opened and one red booted foot came out, then the other. Then the rest of her appeared, as beautiful as ever.

  His heart slammed against his ribs and his breath came fast and light. For a few seconds he wondered if he might actually pass out.

  Beth leaned into the back seat and came back out with a couple of reusable bags full of groceries. There was a lot of food there. What if she was cooking for someone else? A man?

  He watched her cross the parking lot and enter a stairway, then reappear on the catwalk two stories up. She rested one b
ag on her bent thigh as she unlocked the door and disappeared inside.

  He waited a few minutes, then got out of the car and retraced her steps until he was at her door, feeling the whole time like he was about to go onstage in front of an audience that had paid to see someone else. He wiped his palms on his jeans and knocked.

  The blue curtain in front of the little window on the door parted and Beth peered out at him. He couldn’t have actually heard her gasp, but her eyes widened, and then thank God she was opening the door.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jesse. At her door. Looking so good she could have wept. Or laughed hysterically. She wanted to throw him on her bed and ravage him, and she wanted to hit him.

  “Hey, Beth.”

  God, that voice. That alone was almost enough to make her forget everything and let him in, no questions asked. But that meant she was still susceptible to him, and that wasn’t good.

  Her head felt light, as if she’d stood up too quickly, so she held onto the door and tried to think what to do. He looked nervous, like he thought she might shut the door in his face, but this was Jesse. He’d been kind of a jerk at the end, but mostly he’d hurt her without realizing it.

  She stepped back. “Come in.”

  He was wearing a brown leather jacket that fell to his hips and hung open on the blue western-style shirt with snaps she’d always loved. And of course worn jeans and his beat-up cowboy boots. His hair was a little longer than it had been when she last saw him, but he was clean-shaven. Had he done that for her?

  He smiled one of his crooked smiles and walked across the threshold. His eyes never left her, and she was reminded again of how focused on her he always was. No one else did that, and she felt herself flush as her heart picked up its pace.

  The heat between them was still there, that connection she’d convinced herself was all in her head. She stepped back another few inches and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I figured I’d have a better chance of seeing you if I didn’t give you a chance to tell me not to come.”

  Then he flashed her one of his full-bore smiles, unleashing all the charm and charisma and sex he used on stage in front of hundreds of people. Only now it landed on her alone in an apartment too tiny to contain it.

  “You look good, honey.”

  Ah, there it was. She had to resist the urge to close her eyes at the sweet sound of it.

  They were still standing in the little hallway inside Cheryl’s apartment, just a few feet from the living room. She wasn’t planning on inviting him in, but he moved by her and somehow she couldn’t stop him. He didn’t sit down, though. Instead he prowled around, looking at pictures and knickknacks. Restless, that same energy he’d always had coming off him.

  He was frowning, like he was trying to make sense of the framed diploma on the wall and the pictures of Cheryl and Jason.

  “This is Cheryl’s apartment,” she explained. “She moved in with Jason, but I’m staying here and finishing out the lease. We haven’t gotten around to moving all her stuff out since I don’t have my own things yet.”

  That seemed to satisfy him, for the moment at least.

  “What is it you want, Jesse?”

  “I rented some studio space here so you could record.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and looked at her with all the determination and stubbornness she recognized from times on the tour when he’d fought for his own way.

  “I want you on this album, Beth. It just isn’t right without you. So I figured I’d make it easy. You’ll make some decent money, too.”

  “Jesse–”

  “It should only take a few hours, and we booked the studio for two days so we can do it whenever you’re free.”

  He was making it impossible to refuse, which was obviously what he’d planned. Maybe she was putting up too much of a fight. He’d come all this way for her to sing, why shouldn’t she just do it? It’s not like he’d treated her badly or done something terrible. Anyway, she’d always hated the idea of another woman singing those songs.

  She let out her breath. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  “You will?” he asked, surprise and delight beaming from him.

  “Yes, I will.” God help her. “I’m free tomorrow after one.”

  “That’s perfect. I’ll come pick you up.”

  “You don’t have to do that. Tell me where it is and I’ll meet you there.”

  “I’ll pick you up,” he repeated.

  “Fine. I’ll see you then.”

  He hesitated, like he wanted to say more. She needed him to leave so she could be alone and scream or cry or call Cheryl, so she stood there with her arms crossed and didn’t give him anything more.

  He gave her one of his wry smiles, his mouth turning up on one side, only this time he just looked sad. It was all she could do not to call him back, but she kept silent and watched him leave.

  ***

  By twelve-fifty the next day she was pacing the apartment from couch to window to bathroom mirror. She’d been in a state since he left the day before and she was no better now. As much as she tried to deny her feelings for him, they were as strong as the day she left Austin.

  It had taken her an hour to dress, only to end up in jeans and a turtleneck sweater, and she’d put on and taken off her red cowboy boots three or four times before finally leaving them on. They gave her confidence and made her feel good, and that’s what she needed today. Hopefully Jesse didn’t take them as some sort of signal.

  She spent a few more minutes warming up, then his car pulled into the parking lot and she went out and closed the door behind her. Jesse smiled up at her through the bars of the walkway, and just like that her heart betrayed her, stupidly swelling with joy at the sight of him.

  He opened her door for her and waited while she got in, then climbed in the other side. He hadn’t missed the boots, but he didn’t say anything. Was it because she was freezing him out? She couldn’t help that, though. It was self-protection, and she needed it.

  “Have you been singing at all since you got back?” he finally asked.

  “Just around the house.”

  He said nothing more and she was left with the feeling that he was hoping for something else from her. The silence that enveloped them was deep and wide, nothing like the comfortable quiet they used to share.

  “How are the guys?” she asked, unable to bear it.

  “Fine. I found someone else to play bass after Will bowed out, but Matt and Brian are recording.”

  She nodded her head, unable to think of more to say.

  “Stu tells me you’re starting your own business, just like you planned.”

  “It’s a lot of work to get going, but I’m excited about it.”

  “You’ll be great.”

  A short time later they entered a residential neighborhood, nearly every house covered in Christmas lights and wreaths. She still hadn’t gotten used to seeing all that in the middle of the desert. Everything seemed so forced, so bleak, but maybe that was just her.

  “This is where the studio is?” she asked.

  “Stu knows someone who knows someone who has a studio in his house. It’s mostly for private use but he’s doing us a favor. It won’t be anything like I usually record in, but it’ll be just fine for what we need.”

  He pulled up in front of a white two-story and they were greeted at the door by a bearded man in his fifties who reeked of pot and led them downstairs into a basement studio. Beth stood by while Henry and Jesse talked, only half understanding what they said. Not that it mattered. Her job was to sing when they told her to.

  A little while later she stood next to Jesse in front of a microphone, her anxiety escalating. What if she couldn’t get back into the rhythm of things? What if after all this trouble she sounded terrible?

  Henry sat down at his soundboard and tested their mic levels, then hande
d them each a set of headphones.

  “We already recorded ‘Better Off’ and ‘Down by the River’” Jesse explained. “All we need now are your parts, but I figured I’d sing, too. If I sound better today than what I already recorded we can use it.”

  “Hey, Henry,” Jesse called across the room, “can you play ‘Better Off” once through for her?”

  Henry nodded and Beth adjusted her headphones. Moments later the song came on and she was right back there, her whole world Jesse and the tour and her spiraling feelings. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about the moment she knew she was in love with him.

  When she opened her eyes Jesse was watching her.

  “All set?”

  She nodded, afraid to speak.

  The song played again, this time without Jesse’s part, but it sounded distant and strange, like it was being piped in from some other planet. He looked right at her as he sang and she answered like she always had, meeting him in that nowhere space between them. Only this time it was so terrifying she tried to lock down all the feelings it threatened to pull from her.

  She sounded terrible.

  Jesse signaled Henry to stop and took off his headphones.

  “Everything all right?” he asked.

  She nodded and tried to smile. “It just feels strange.”

  “We’ll take it easy and work our way into it, okay?”

  Oh God, what had she gotten herself into? For weeks she’d been remembering how it felt to sing with Jesse, and now she was with him again and all the dangers of it came back to her. She should never have agreed to this.

  She made herself breathe. This wasn’t going to work unless she gave it all she had. He was looking for what she’d done before and she could either do it or run away.

  But she couldn’t run away, because as awful as it was, she wanted this.

  Henry cued the song up and it began to play again. Jesse’s smile for her was one of whole-hearted belief, and then he started to sing, his mournful voice coming to her through the headset with no way to distance herself from it.

  She watched him, letting him lead her into the song because he was the anchor and the only way through it, he was the troubadour and the pied piper, the heartbreaker.