Almost.
“Next question,” Gen continued. “What is Jet’s favorite city in the world?”
He stole a glance at Abby. Now was when things were going to get tough. She could no longer draw on her personal knowledge or their shared history. The questions were apparently moving on to public domain tidbits that Gen, or whoever on her staff had done the research, had pulled from his interviews over the years.
“Cards up!”
Jet turned his head. Gavin’s card said, “Portland.” Which actually wasn’t a bad guess, for nostalgia reasons. Jet had certainly snuck off to enough concerts there in his wild, misspent youth.
Abby’s read, “Sydney.”
His eyebrows shot up and he gave her a questioning look. “How did you know that?”
She turned her chin up. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Now stop distracting me.”
He smiled. “You’ve been keeping tabs on me. You’ve been watching me on The Tonight Show.”
“Ellen,” she corrected him, and then snapped her mouth shut, cheeks flaming.
Holy. Shit!
She not only remembered the content of the interview, she remembered which show it was from.
Interesting. Very, very interesting.
Gen spoke up. “Just to recap the score really quickly, we have Abby winning by a landslide with three points. Gavin has scored zero points, but two really sick burns. So who’s the real winner here?”
Abby’s hand shot into the air and Jet had to laugh.
“Abby’s a little competitive, in case you couldn’t tell,” Gen teased. “All right, now. Next question. What is Jet allergic to?”
Abby’s eyes narrowed as she shot a glance at Gavin. Clearly she thought the question provided him a real chance to put some numbers on the board, and she didn’t like it.
“Cards up!”
Abby got the question right. Her card read, “Penicillin.”
Jet had to shake his head when he looked at Gavin’s card. He knew for a fact that his brother was aware of his penicillin allergy, but apparently he was just going to finish off the night by getting as many little smart ass digs in at Jet as he could, because his card said, “Hard Work.”
“Good one, babe,” Gen said.
Jet called out, “Hey. No bias from the moderator!” and the crowd laughed.
Gen grinned. “I make no promises. Now, moving on to the fourth and final question. This was going to be where I explained what would happen if there was a tie, but apparently that won’t be necessary.”
Abby mumbled, “Yes!” under her breath and pulled a victory fist down to her waist.
Jet gave her a friendly nudge with his elbow. “Easy there, killer. You’ve got it in the bag.”
She shook her head and her eyes sparked. “Nope. Never relax until you’ve actually won. That’s my motto.”
“I think you stole it from The Great Santini.”
“Hey. He might’ve been a crappy father, but I bet he had a pretty decent record with board games.”
Gen continued and Abby’s attention snapped forward. “The final question is this: with what honor did Jet graduate high school?”
“Yes!” Abby cried, pumping her fists up into the air. The effect of the gesture was even more dramatic because of the fact that one hand still held the white poster board, while the other held the fat marking pen.
Jet dropped his forehead into his palm and shook his head. Would nobody ever forget that freaking tenth of a grade point?
“Cards up!”
Abby’s card, predictably, read, “Salutatorian – and I was the valedictorian,” followed – excessively, Jet thought – by about ten exclamation marks.
Gavin’s card said simply, “He graduated?” When Jet looked at him and rolled his eyes, he saw that Gavin was wearing a small smirk. Jet was impressed. For Gavin, that was the equivalent of doubling over with laughter.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner. Abby Baxter!”
Abby looked at him and sighed. “I do believe those are the most beautiful words in the English language. Promise me you’ll have them carved on my tombstone, will you?”
He slung his arm around her. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll have it made up into a wall hanging and you can put it up opposite your bed so it can be the first thing you see when you wake up every morning.”
She looked up and met his eyes, and her voice softened. “I’d like that. As long as it can be the second thing. I’d rather the first thing was you.”
Chapter 15
Jet
Festive music filled Jet’s ears, along with the chatter of holiday shoppers, but it had the opposite effect on him than the one the songwriters had intended. Not to mention whoever had chosen the pop arrangements of popular Christmas carols as the tracks to pipe through the mall’s sound system.
Rather than putting him in the Christmas spirit – not to mention a buying mood – the tunes just set his teeth on edge.
The simplified arrangements and auto tuned vocals sounded, if possible, even more canned when fed through the mall speakers. He couldn’t stand it. And the occasional exclamations of, “Oh my God! I love this song!” from other shoppers were salt in the wound.
Damn. He would’ve expected that hearing music he liked – good music – would make him feel crappy because of all he’d lost. Of course. It would bring back memories, make him want to be a part of the action. But what he hadn’t anticipated was that hearing shitty music would do the same thing. Not because he wanted to be the one making it, obviously. But because it made him itch to get in there and change the things that, in his mind, would make the tracks so much better.
Yeah. He had to face it. There was basically no way that he could hear music – any kind of music – without it bringing up in his mind how much he’d lost. That might always be true. Only time would tell.
Fuck, isn’t that a depressing thought?
“Jet Valentine, with as rarely as you deign to grace me with your presence, I’d certainly appreciate it if you were here with me mentally during the few times you’re here with me physically.”
Grandmother Valentine’s sharp rebuke snapped him out of his stupor. He shook his head to try to clear the noise that cluttered it, both literal and figurative. His grandmother was right. He rarely got to see her, but he was here with her now. He should really be here with her, now.
“Sorry, Grandmother. You’re right,” he said.
She gave a quick, curt nod. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Neither of them said anything for a moment, and then she continued. “Well? I asked you to tell me something I don’t know.”
Jet had to laugh. As a kid, he’d resented getting pushed around by the powerful matriarch of the Valentine clan, believing he knew better than her at every turn. Now, it felt sort of nostalgic. Besides, now that he was recovering from his life blowing up and examining a lot of his past choices in that light, he could see the wisdom in a lot of the advice she’d given him over the years.
Or commands. Tomato, to-mah-to.
“Let’s see,” he began, searching his mind for things she might be interested in. He figured he’d start with the biggest news. “I left my band.”
She stopped in her tracks and looked up at him, brows knit together. At first he thought she was shocked at the news, but her next words set him straight. “Son, I might be old but I am perfectly capable of using the internet. I said tell me something I don’t know.”
“Okay. Well. Leaving wasn’t exactly my choice.”
“Yes, that was a prominent point in the majority of the articles.”
He paused a moment to consider what to say next.
Fuck. Is there even a part of my life that hasn’t been laid bare for public consumption? Has there ever been?
He racked his brain to search for something, anything, to tell his grandmother. Something that hadn’t already been picked over by the vultures. It was harder than it should’ve been.
“How
about this,” his grandmother suggested. “Let’s start small. How long are you staying in Valentine Bay?”
He shook his head, gave a rueful chuckle. “That certainly seems to be the million-dollar question.”
“I’d say it deserves a million-dollar answer, wouldn’t you?”
“Sure. I just wish I had one to give.”
“Well, I assume you’re going to be around this Saturday, at least.”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t waffle, boy. You act like I’m going to make you pick me up at the airport or something. Ridiculous.”
He slipped an affectionate arm around her shoulders. “Says the woman who forced me to take her to a mall two hours away so she could do a little Christmas shopping.”
“Don’t you sass me, Jet Valentine,” she retorted, but there was a fond smile on her face. He loved to tease her. He was the only one of his siblings that dared, at least to the extent he did, and he felt like she respected him for it.
Hell, I’m probably cut out of her will, he mused, but at least I made her smile. That’s better than money.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he replied, his own version of a fond smile reflected back to her.
“All right, just don’t plan on making a habit of it. Now about this Saturday. Arlene Trelawney is throwing her annual Christmas do. The same pretentious wine and cheese affair she puts on every year. She told me she invited you.”
“She did.”
“Are you planning on attending?”
“God, no. Why would I?”
“Well, she’s dead set on having you there.”
“Again. Why would I?”
“Arlene is a frightful bore, but she does hold some sway on the city council. I like to keep her on my side.”
“I don’t know, Grandmother. Why would she even care about me being there? I’m not exactly in her target demographic.”
“And what target demographic is that?”
“I don’t know. The kind that uses the phrase ‘wine and cheese’ to describe their party.”
“Fair enough. It’s just too bad is all.”
Jet knew he was being set up. Her entire final sentence, as well as the overly cavalier tone she’d delivered it in, were clearly manufactured just to get him to ask the obvious follow-up question – why?
He wasn’t going to do it. He was above being manipulated, especially so openly.
Right?
After the statement had hung in the air for less than a minute, though, he found out that he actually wasn’t above being manipulated like that, apparently. He couldn’t stand it anymore and reluctantly gave in.
“All right, fine. I’ll bite. Why is it too bad?”
She waved her hand. “Oh, no reason in particular. Just that young Abagail is going to be there, serving as the resident wine expert. I thought it might be nice for her to have another young person there. For company, you know.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “All right, Gram. So, clearly you know that Abby and I have been seeing each other since I’ve been back in town.”
She gave him a small, sly grin. “I do.”
“And I guess you’re in favor of it, since you’re trying to get us to spend more time together.”
“She’s a fine, sensible girl. She has a good head on her shoulders. And, when she’s with you, she does the one thing that shows me she’s perfect for you.”
“And what’s that?”
Grandmother Valentine stopped again, and turned to face him. She looked him full in the face and patted his arm, then said, “Oh, Jet. You were always my sweet but mixed-up one. Don’t you see it yourself?”
Now Jet was thoroughly confused. “See what? What does she do?”
“She makes you the best version of yourself. She drives you to be better. When you’re around her, you’re never satisfied with ‘good enough.’ She spurs you on to greatness. When you have that, kid, you don’t let it go.”
Chapter 16
Abby
“I just don’t know. I mean, I definitely know that I want to get her a bottle of wine for Christmas. I just don’t know what kind. My knowledge of wine extends to knowing that it comes in red and white. That’s it.”
Abby smiled at her customer. “Well, not to worry. That’s where I come in. Now, let me ask you a few questions about your friend and her tastes…”
As Abby talked her customer through a set of questions she’d developed to help her determine great recommendations, the bell over the door chimed again and again.
Business had been good even before the holiday rush, and now it was pretty much booming. She’d even brought on seasonal staff to handle the register while she talked to customers. Everything was going so well, she felt like she should pinch herself to prove it wasn’t a dream.
Especially your love life, an inner voice teased. She pushed it aside, though. She wasn’t going to think about Jet right now. Not when she was helping a customer.
“So, you might consider this vintage. It’s sweet but a little crisp. Since she’s a wine virgin, it’s an excellent starter. Delicious flavor, subtle and not too overwhelming.”
“Sounds great,” he replied, studying the label. “I’ll take it. Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome. And, since it’s a gift, I’d also like to draw your attention to these velvet gift pouches. They’re hand-embroidered by a local artist, who also owns Everything Ella, downtown on Main. Each of them are one of a kind,” she said, gesturing toward the display rack near the front of the shop.
The bell over the door rang again, but the sound had been so constant throughout the busy day that she didn’t take any particular notice of it. Until customers started whispering and looking past her to the front of the shop, anyway.
She turned around to see what the commotion was about and smiled. It was Jet. Because, of course it was Jet.
There he stood, with his long and perfectly-shaggy hair, his piercing eyes, his tattoos and his leather wrist cuffs, his faded jeans and his motorcycle boots. God, even if he hadn’t been a famous bad boy rock star, he would’ve stood out from this crowd of suburban holiday shoppers like a single shining diamond against a sea of beige grains of sand.
To tell the truth, when she was with Jet, she felt kind of like a grain of sand herself compared to him. Until he looked at her. Then she saw herself reflected in his eyes, and she felt beautiful. Like the shiniest diamond in the world.
“Hey, you,” she said, her voice coming out softer than she’d meant it to. Damn, all it took was seeing him to turn her to mush now? He didn’t even have to say anything, or touch her? That was quite the development.
“Hey, yourself,” he replied. The grin on his face was a mirror of the goofy one she could feel on her own. God, could this really be happening to them? Were they turning into those annoying people who were so wrapped up in each other that soon they’d be ending phone conversations with the old, “you hang up first, no you hang up first,” routine?
The prospect of that bothered her much less than she’d have imagined it would.
She was about to ask him why he’d dropped by when one of the people who’d been browsing in the aisles sidestepped her and went up to Jet, her face flushed and hands nervously wringing in front of her.
“Oh my goodness, you’re Jet Valentine,” the woman gushed, and Abby had to smile. She’d actually smooshed the words all together so they came out sounding like one big word, a sort of “ohmygoodnessyou’rejetvalentine” rush of breath.
“Guilty as charged,” Jet replied, his charm in full effect.
“Can I…um…would it be okay if…uh….” the lady stammered.
Jet must’ve guessed what she wanted by the way she was fumbling with her phone. He jumped in, his voice gracious and friendly. “Would you like to take a selfie together?”
Abby thought she might melt into a little puddle of goo right there on the spot. How was he so sweet, when this kind of interaction must happen to him all the time? Ho
w did he keep from getting frustrated, or just tired?
Because, if he was either of those things, he didn’t let it show to the woman in front of him. In fact, you’d have thought he felt just as excited to have his picture taken together as she was.
When he handed the phone back to her, he said, “Make sure you tag me in that, okay?”
She nodded and hurried away, back to the group of people she’d come in with. After the first person had broken the ice, however, the flood of people wanting an autograph or picture together swept in. Now that they saw he was open to it, it seemed everyone had the courage to approach him.
Abby gave a little chuckle and caught his eye. “I’ll be in the office working on the books. Come on back when you’re done here, stud.”
He nodded and she went back through the storeroom to the tiny office she kept for herself in the corner. It was just big enough to hold her desk and a couple of filing cabinets, but that was all she needed. She hadn’t opened up a wine shop to spend all day back here on the computer. No, she loved talking to people. She spent as little time in the office as possible, she vastly preferred being out on the sales floor.
She brought the computer back from hibernation and put in her passcode, then pulled up QuickBooks. She spent the next half an hour or so entering in invoices and deposits, until she heard a soft knock at the door.
She leaned over and turned the knob then gave the door a little push with her foot. That was how small the space was, she didn’t even have to leave her chair to admit a guest.
As the door swung open, Jet was revealed, standing there and smiling down at her. Her heartbeat caught in her chest. Her belly filled with flutters.
God. She’d only been away from him for thirty minutes. She’d known he was coming back here, so seeing him wasn’t a surprise. And still…the stuttering heart, the fluttering belly.
Damn, she was far gone.
“Hey, hot stuff,” he said by way of greeting, and the butterflies in her belly swarmed like a pond full of koi fish after someone’d thrown food in the water.
“Hey, yourself,” she replied, repeating his words to her from earlier.
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