Playing by Heart

by JB Salsbury

  I press harder on the gas.

  “Jesse, please!” she screams as her knuckles turn white on the oh-shit bar. “Oh my gosh!”

  Not bad. I wouldn’t have expected such dick-hardening passion from a woman who wears medicated Blistex as lip gloss. I’d love to hear those same words come out of her mouth in a more intimate setting.

  At the end of the street, I slow and my jaw hurts from smiling. “For your information, I have a valid driver’s license that has never been revoked for a DUI or DWI or for whatever else your tiny little mind has made up about me.” I can feel the heat of her anger. “Jesus, nanny party pooper, take a joke.”

  “Can we do it again?” the kid asks and kicks the back of my seat, which is really fucking annoying.

  “No,” the nanny answers and turns her face away to look out the window.

  I hear her sniffle. Shit, is she crying?

  Women and their overactive emotions.

  Another sniffle and she wipes her face.

  I roll my eyes and groan. “Are you crying?”

  “Just forget it,” she says, but I hear the tears in her voice.

  Shit. “Calm down, I was just joking around.”

  “You don’t understand,” Another sniffle. “I was in the car with my parents when my dad was joking around and driving too fast.” She wipes her nose, still facing out the side window, most likely to hide her embarrassing tears. “He lost control of the car and… and… they were both killed.”

  Oh fuck… I’m an asshole.

  I open my mouth to say something, but apologies never come easy. “Bethany, I…”

  “I was in the ICU for three weeks.” She points at a white scar the size of a paperclip on her leg. “This is a constant reminder of that day.”

  I pull the car over, put it in park, and stare blindly out the windshield. “I’m… look, I had no idea about your parents. I’m… really sorry.”

  She sniffles again and her shoulders shake.

  I am such a dick. “Bethany.” I reach out to touch her shoulder, but she whirls around so fast I pull my hand back.

  She’s smiling. Her face is dry. “Ha!” Her eyes dance with humor. “You sucker!”

  “What the fuck…?”

  The nanny bursts out laughing, her head falling back with the force of it, her full mouth of straight teeth on display and the sound of a hysterical donkey coming from her lips. “I can’t believe you fell for that!”

  “Hold on, your parents aren’t dead?”

  “No way! They live in Phoenix!” Now she’s wiping real tears—tears of laughter. “You are so gullible!”

  “What about the scar on your leg?”

  “I slipped while hiking three years ago and fell on a rock.”

  “I can’t believe you lied about your parents dying,” I mumble.

  “I can’t believe you’d endanger the life of your four-year-old niece by driving like a maniac in a residential area.” She smacks her hands together with a satisfied grin. “Now we’re even.”

  “Even?” The corner of my mouth ticks up. “Sweetheart, we’ve barely just begun.”

  That seems to shut her up and erase the stupid smile from her face.

  Game on, nanny.

  Bethany

  As I sit in the car, waiting for Jesse’s meeting to let out while I inspect a photo of Wyatt and Suzette on IG, I can’t stop hearing that one little word.

  Sweetheart.

  I’ve been called that pet name before—usually by the elderly and once by a line cook who ended up getting fired for grabbing the hostess’s boob—but this time feels different. Why would he call me that?

  Wyatt never called me that. He called me honey, a few times babe, but never sweetheart. I can’t decide if the term is sexy or parental.

  Who am I kidding? Coming from Jesse Lee and accompanied by that smirk, it was definitely a sexy sweetheart. Why does thinking about it make my insides feel like jelly?

  There’s movement in the parking lot and I jump, fearing it’s Jesse and he can somehow tap into my thoughts. My eyes widen when I realize it’s Wyatt. What is he doing here on a Thursday?

  I scramble out of the car. “Wyatt?”

  He stops and squints in my direction. “Beth?”

  I walk toward him as he does the same until we meet on the Saltillo-tiled path that leads to the church doors.

  “Hey.” I hold back the instinct to hug him or shake his hand or greet him in some way by folding my arms and locking them around my stomach. “I’m surprised to see you here on a Thursday.” Not that I stalk you and know your schedule or anything.

  “Oh, uh… yeah, I’m kind of surprised to see you too.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his Dockers. “Beth, listen, I’ve been meaning to ask…”

  My stomach flip-flops, and I try hard not to smile at the idea that he’s been thinking about me. Maybe he’s figured out that we’re meant to be and he’s ready to get back together. “Yeah?”

  His eyebrows pinch together. “How’ve you been doing? You know, since… you know.”

  “Oh, um…” Not at all what I was expecting, but maybe it’s his lead-in to more important conversation, like how he broke up with Suzette to be with me. “I’ve been good.”

  He frowns. “Good, that’s good. It’s just…” He shifts his weight as if he’s uncomfortable. “My parents told me about what happened to your car and—”

  “What? Psht… my car? Oh, yeah, that was just some freaky…” I blow air through my lips. “Crazy story, right?” Damn! My pulse is pounding and my palms are sweating. He can’t know what happened. How would he? “How are you and Suzette?”

  He seems a little knocked off center by the abrupt subject change. “We’re good. Oh and by the way, I’m so sorry about bringing her into your restaurant. That was a dick move on my part.”

  “It’s cool.” My face grows hotter and hotter. “So you two are good?”

  For the first time, he seems to genuinely smile, which hurts like hell in my heart region. Probably indigestion from the Lucky Charms I had for breakfast. “Suzette is great. She’s supposed to be meeting me here.” He eyes the parking lot, searching for her. “She must be running late.”

  The church doors swing open and Jesse walks out, pausing when he spots me and Wyatt standing close. With all the swagger and confidence of a rock god, he saunters right to us.

  “Am I late?” he says and looks between Wyatt and me.

  “No, I was just talking to—”

  “Wait a minute,” Wyatt says with surprise in his voice. “You’re Jesse Lee!”

  Jesse tilts his head and looks at me, his brows raised high enough to touch his low ball cap. I don’t have it in me to even smile, and I can’t introduce them because I’m pretty sure Jesse wants to remain anonymous. Plus Jesse already knows who Wyatt is—I can tell from the smirk on his face.

  He nods at Wyatt. “I am.”

  “No fucking way,” Wyatt says with a huge smile as he shifts on his feet as if he might piss his pants at any second. “I’ve been a fan for years, man. I love your music.”

  Jesse grins and pride shines in his eyes. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  “Whoa.” Wyatt steps back, his hand in his hair. “I can’t believe it. Jesse Lee. Jesse fucking Lee.”

  I hold up a finger. “Let’s not forget you’re on Jesus’s doorstep—”

  “Jesse fucking Lee.”

  “Okay,” I grumble.

  “Wow, man…” Wyatt says, totally ignoring me. “What are you doing here in Arizona? Hell, what are you doing here?” He points at the ground as if he’s trying to communicate the church.

  “I’m taking a personal vacation.”

  “Cool, man.” Wyatt’s blue eyes are still big and round. “I have to get your autograph.” He pats his pockets, then his gaze darts to the lot. “Suzette!”

  A groan bubbles up my throat. This just gets better and better.

  My mouth falls open when I see Wyatt’s girlfriend crossing the
lot in a red dress that is insanely sexy but manages to be tasteful at the same time. The cherry fabric hugs every curve of her body, from the cap-sleeves to the hemline that falls just below her knees. Her nude heels click on the pavement, flashing red soles as her long dark hair follows behind her like a Pegasus tail in the wind.

  Her eyes light up when she sees Wyatt waving her over.

  That, too, I feel in my guts.

  “Honey, you’re never gonna believe who I ran into,” Wyatt says as she sidles up next to him.

  Honey. Another jab to the belly. Would it be obvious if I walked away to pout in the car alone while these two fawn over the celebrity?

  A female gasp later and Suzette is falling all over Jesse while Wyatt watches in fascination and awe. I take a slow step back as Jesse gets caught up in listening to the woman gush about her favorite songs, how she saw him in concert and tried to get backstage—most likely to have sex with him because that’s the kind of woman she is—shut up, Bethany!

  Girl on girl hate is never justified.

  But Suzette is the kind of woman who turns every head in a room. She’s the kind of woman even faithful married men fantasize about.

  “So what on earth brings you to this shithole?” Suzette says.

  Shithole? The town or the church? Either way, I’m highly offended.

  “Bethany.”

  I jump at the sound of Jesse saying my name. “What?”

  He holds his arm out toward me and jerks his head for me to step closer. Numbly, I move a couple steps in only to have him throw his big arm over my shoulders and pull me into his side. Suzette looks at me as if I grew antlers, and Wyatt’s gaze settles on Jesse’s hand at my bicep.

  “Wait… you know her?” Suzette says.

  “Yep. I came out to spend some time with Bethany. She was showing me her church.” The lie slides from Jesse’s lips like melted butter.

  Wyatt scowls. “You never told me you were friends with Jesse Lee.”

  “I…”

  Jesse chuckles. “You know Bethany. She’s loyal as fuck. She doesn’t name drop. I love that about her.”

  My knees wobble and Jesse holds me up as I’m forced to use him as a crutch.

  Wyatt’s shaking his head slowly as if seeing me for the first time.

  “Yep, that’s me. Loyal as eff.” Why does everything I say sound so stupid!

  Jesse turns his head to speak close to my ear. “We should get going,” he says loud enough for everyone to hear and making it sound sexy.

  His hot breath ghosts across my neck, and a shiver races down my spine. “Yeah, um… we should go.”

  Wyatt snaps out of a fog and checks his watch. “We should go too. We’re late meeting Pastor Langley.” He mimics Jesse’s body language and throws his arm over Suzette. “Premarital counseling.”

  Those two words knock the wind from my lungs. They’re engaged? A lump forms in my throat, and I sway on my feet. Jesse’s arm constricts around me.

  Suzette holds up her left hand and wiggles her fingers. The sun catches on a princess-cut ring the size of a laptop. “We haven’t officially announced it yet.”

  “Congratulations.” My voice must get Jesse’s attention because I feel his head turn toward me even though I’m staring between Wyatt and Suzette. “Your ring is…” I swallow hard. “It’s breathtaking.”

  “Right.” Jesse turns us toward the lot. “We gotta go.”

  “It was great meeting you,” Wyatt yells.

  “You should come to the wedding!” Suzette squeals.

  But Jesse ignores them and guides me to the passenger side of the car.

  He puts me in and closes the door as Wyatt hollers, “I’ll send you an evite!”

  I stare blindly ahead as Jesse gets in, fires up the car, and pulls out of the lot. I can’t feel my arms or legs as all the blood pooling in my chest drowns my heart.

  “Bethany?” Jesse says.

  “I’m okay.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  My lips part to refuse, but the words don’t come.

  “Tell me how to get to your work.”

  I manage to mumble the directions on autopilot as my mind reassesses what happened. Wyatt said I was the kind of woman a man marries. We were together for almost a year and he never proposed. He’s with her for a couple months and they’re already getting married. What does that say about me?

  What would I have done if Jesse hadn’t been there to keep me from total humiliation?

  “Hold on.” I turn toward him. “Why did you do that?”

  “I’m dropping you off and then going back to the church to use the gym—”

  “No, I mean, now people are going to know you’re here. You shouldn’t have talked to them.”

  “And what? Just walked right past you when you had a surprise run-in with your ex-dick?”

  “I mean… yeah.”

  He shakes his head.

  I point at the restaurant up ahead. “Right there on the left.”

  “What time do you get off?” He pulls up to the front door.

  “Um…” Every time I try to focus, all I can see is that ring and the smile on Suzette’s perfect face. “I get off at ten.”

  “Who’ll take you home?”

  “I’ll take the bus.”

  “What? That’s fucking stupid.”

  Why the hostility? I’d think he’s the one who just found out the love of his life is getting married to someone else.

  “Says the guy who’s insisting on taking the car.” I shake my head, get my purse from the backseat and slam the door.

  Once I’m in the restaurant, behind the safety of glass, I turn around in time to see the Lexus pull away.

  “He’s marrying that bitch?”

  I hold the phone away from my ear as Ashleigh screeches. This is much better than the disappointment I heard in my mom’s voice when I called her to relay the news. I know she didn’t mean to, but her response made me feel as if I had somehow failed. So I called Ashleigh on my break to tell her what happened, knowing she’d make me feel a little better about being… well, angry. I left out the part about being with Jesse, and no one would question why I was at the church on a Thursday.

  “Good for them! She’ll be stuck with his needle dick and he’ll be stuck with her herpes until death do they part.”

  Ash has no idea about Wyatt’s size or Suzette’s STDs, but it still makes me smile.

  “I’m so sorry, Bethany. I know you hoped things would work out differently.”

  “Yeah, I just don’t understand. He told me I was the type of woman a man marries. He said those exact words!”

  “That’s kind of an asshole thing to say.”

  I pull the phone from my ear, stare at it thinking I misheard, then press it back to my face. “Why do you think being called marrying material is an insult?”

  “It’s a backhanded way of saying he doesn’t think you’re sexy.”

  “That’s not true.” Is it?

  “It is.”

  Is it possible I saw my relationship with Wyatt all wrong? It would make sense. Especially compared to Suzette, I am not sexy.

  Ashleigh speaks to someone in the background. “I’m sorry, I have to get back to the bar. I won’t be home until morning. Do you want me to wake you up so we can talk?”

  “Yes please.”

  “I’m so sorry this happened. Hang in there and I’ll wake you up with your favorite Frappuccino.”

  “Thanks, Ash.”

  We hang up, and I spend the rest of the night in a fog. My tips at the end of the night reflect my poor mood, and I blame Wyatt and Suzette for that too. I just want to go home, take a hot shower, put on my pajamas, and sleep until the pain in my chest goes away.

  It’s almost time to close, and since it was slow, I’ve already finished my side work. Good. I’ll be home by eleven so I can curl up in bed and cry myself to sleep.

  My gaze continues to gravitate to the booth Wyatt and Suzette occupied the night they c
ame in. Did she have the ring on then? Surely I would’ve noticed.

  “Bethany, I’m so sorry, but you just got a table,” the hostess says and motions to the far side corner of the restaurant.

  A party of four is looking over the menus. So much for getting home early. I’ll have to catch the eleven o’clock bus. Great.

  After my four-top eats pancakes and bacon and four pieces of pie that the cook had already put away for the night, they finally say goodbye at ten thirty. I clean up, close out, shut off the lights, and grab my purse for the walk to the bus stop.

  The temperatures at night are cool and I’m grateful for the light desert breeze that accompanies me on the one-block trek.

  Wyatt is getting married. The reminder pounds at my skull for the millionth time, and try I to erase the image of them together—mostly because they look so happy. I should be happy for them.

  I drop heavily on the bench with the weight of my broken heart. The next bus should be here in ten minutes. Feeling fairly safe in this decently populated part of town, I watch as cars whiz by. I’m staring at my feet when I sense a vehicle slowing down in front of me.

  The Lexus.

  The hazard lights come on and the window rolls down.

  “Jesse?”

  “Hey.” One of the things Jesse does that I’m getting used to is he doesn’t act shy or coy. He stares boldly, almost challenging, into my eyes.

  “Did you bust out?”

  “I did.” He grins, but it’s small. “Dug a hole in the wall, covered it with Justin Timberlake’s poster.”

  I laugh.

  “No one will ever know I’m gone.”

  “Clever. Sounds familiar too, like maybe I saw that in a movie once or something.”

  “Nah…”

  “Does Ben know you’re gone?”

  “You realize I’m a twenty-eight-year-old man, right? And no, he’s asleep.”

  “Oh.” I look down the street in the direction that the bus comes from then look back at Jesse. “What are you doing here?”

  A few heavy seconds stretch between us.

  “Honestly?” He frowns. “I don’t know.”

  “Okay, well, my bus should be here any minute. You probably shouldn’t be parked in the road like that.” I slouch back on the bus stop bench with my purse on my lap. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”