by JB Salsbury
She hooks me around the bicep and tugs me aside. “Listen to me.” She’s huffing, trying to get a full breath, which makes her running in heels a little less glamorous. “I was online this morning and I was searching hashtags.”
“Okay.” I continue to smile and hand out bulletins even though Ashleigh is huffing and puffing in my ear.
“I searched for—”
“Excuse me, you’re Bethany Parks?” A man with longish brown hair and a goatee takes my offered bulletin.
“Yes.”
I feel Ashleigh stiffen beside me.
With his free hand, he shoves a small camera in my face. “Is it true you’re responsible for Jesse Lee giving up music?”
“What?”
“Are you pregnant? Are you aware of his illegitimate child count?”
“No,” I say and stumble back as he presses in closer.
“Did you know he’s engaged to Kayla Moore?”
I gasp and shuffle backward, hoping the distance will protect me from the foul words he’s spewing.
“That’s enough.” Ashleigh pulls me inside the church.
Rather than drag me off to the bathroom or somewhere private where I can cry, she pulls me inside the sanctuary. I suck back my tears since the pews are filling up and the band is taking their positions. Two male ushers see the man following us and block him, turn him around, and escort him out.
“Vultures,” Ash hisses as she leads me to the front row that is usually left empty for the same reason the front row in classrooms is left empty—to keep distance from the authority figure.
I’m still gripping the stack of bulletins as the weaselly paparazzo’s questions take up residence in my head. Engaged? Children? That can’t be true. The memory of Kayla at Jesse’s door flashes through my mind’s eye. I close my eyes and it’s as if I’m back there, watching them resolve whatever feelings were between them.
He would never fall for a woman like me. Not when he has women like her begging for his attention.
“I can’t believe how merciless those little fuckers are,” Ashleigh says in my ear, loud enough for the rows behind us to hear, as if she’s unaware there’s even a thing called whispering. “When I did my search this morning—”
I look at her, and whatever she sees in my expression silences her. “I don’t care. Whatever you saw, whatever you read or heard or wanted to tell me, please don’t. I just want to move on.”
She frowns her perfectly-pink-painted lips. “Okay.”
I turn back and do my best to focus on the music, even with my heart in my throat. During the second song, the ushers who escorted out the paparazzi head through the side door that leads behind the platform. Most likely they’re going to tell Ben what happened. My cheeks get hot as I feel as if every spotlight in the room is aimed at my head.
The song ends and Pastor Ben walks out. Ashleigh and I share a look.
“What’s happening?” she asks.
I slide my gaze back to the platform as Ben whispers something to the worship leader. “I have no idea.”
He faces the congregation and spots me and Ash right away. He gives us a tentative smile before addressing the room. “Good morning, church. I’m so grateful you’re here. I wanted to take a minute to talk about some things that have been happening here over the last few weeks. To avoid the gossip, I’d like to address the rumors that are circling.”
The room erupts in murmurs, and even the members of the band seem as confused and interested as the rest of us. Well, not me. I’m pretty sure I know what he’s going to talk about, and my insides are screaming for me to run away.
“First off, for those of you who’re wondering about my relationship with Jesse Lee, the truth is he’s my little brother.”
Gasps and whispers buzz around me while my stomach sinks.
“Jesse has been staying with me for a few months, and during that time, he’s made some friends here in Surprise.” He doesn’t look in my direction, and I appreciate that. “The media has been mercilessly hounding this church with the hope of getting the scoop on why Jes is here. They’re dedicated, I’ll give them that.”
Laughter rings out, but I only feel sick.
“My brother is headed back to Los Angeles, but before he goes, he’s got something to say.” This time Ben’s eyes come to mine. “I hope you’ll hear him out.”
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Ash whispers.
I’m too stunned to reprimand her for blaspheming in church—because I know those weren’t prayers—and instead stare dumbly ahead. Bile rushes to my throat as the sanctuary ignites with applause. Don’t throw up, do not throw up.
From the back of the stage emerges a figure in a black T-shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of heavy-soled black boots. I fix my eyes on his feet because I can’t bring myself to look into his eyes.
Engaged. Children. Affairs. Broken relationships.
“In the words of a good friend of mine,” his voice rumbles through the speakers, “good morning, welcome to church.”
He strums his guitar and my gut clenches at the sound, the same sound I heard all those mornings when he was writing music in Ben’s room. The same sound I heard when he played the song he’d written.
“Bethany,” Ashleigh says, “you don’t look so good.”
Jesse strums a few more chords. “I’ve been working on a song I’d like to play for you all.” More strumming.
My stomach twists.
“Oh shit,” Ash hisses. “I think you’re gonna—”
I wish I could say I could fight it. With a spine-curling retch, I double over and spill my Starbucks breakfast all over the church floor.
“Shit.” Ashleigh grips my shoulders and pulls me up from the pew to guide me down the aisle toward the exit.
I keep my head down, wiping my mouth and trying not to throw up again as voices seem to scramble behind me. She kicks open the double doors and drags me sideways toward the bathroom. I hit the first stall, drop to my knees, and let loose the rest of what was in my stomach.
“I’m so sorry,” Ashleigh says as she holds back my hair. “I should’ve gotten you out of there sooner.”
“No.” I shake my head and spit into the toilet. “I thought I could hold it back.”
“Well, you showed him.”
A small roll of laughter bubbles up from my stomach. “Yeah, I did.”
Whatever lukewarm feelings Jesse had for me, I surely just killed them in a wave of pumpkin-Frappuccino vomit.
Jesse
“Just give her some space,” Ben says, his eyes fixed on mine as Bethany races down the aisle and out the door.
“I can’t.” I pull my guitar strap off over my head and hand my instrument to him. “I have to see if she’s okay.”
I race down the aisle as one of Ben’s staff with cleaning supplies passes me. I have a weak stomach and seeing someone throw up is so fucking gross, but I don’t feel even a little nauseated as my worry for her trumps the ick factor. I push through the double doors and run out to the parking lot.
“Jesse! Jesse, over here!”
I turn to see two paparazzi rushing toward me.
“Not today, boys.” I jog back inside and close and lock the glass doors. I wonder where she is—until I hear voices from the women’s bathroom.
When I shove inside, Ashleigh looks at me as though she’s not the least bit surprised to see me there. She’s standing in the doorway of a stall, and when I lean to peek inside, she steps out and closes the door, cutting me off from Bethany.
“I just want to talk to her.”
“No.” She points at the door behind me.
“Bethany, please.”
“Leave, Jesse!” Bethany says.
I can’t take my eyes off the gray metal door of the stall or her black sandaled feet that peek out from beneath it. She looked so beautiful in her sundress, even after she threw up.
“Just go,” Ashleigh says, gently shoving me away. “I know you have something to say, but now is no
t the time.”
She’s probably right. I was going for a grand gesture and all I managed to do was embarrass Bethany in front of her church.
“I’m an ass,” I mumble as I step out of the bathroom and into the hallway.
She follows me but stands guard at the door. “What is your end game here?”
I run my hands through my hair and look at the ceiling, hoping it holds the answers. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Clearly.”
I drop my hands to my sides. “Tell me what to do.”
“Give her some space.”
“I can’t do that. I’m in love with her, and I’m not talking about the feel good kind, I’m talking about the fist in your gut”—I smack my abs for emphasis—“rip out your insides kind.”
She blinks a few times then blows out a breath. “Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“I wasn’t expecting that.”
I laugh humorlessly. “No shit, me either.”
She twirls a piece of her hair around her finger. “Well, I still think you need to back off until she gets back on track emotionally.” She chews her lip as if mulling something over. “If this is about the video…”
“What video?”
Her eyes widen. “Forget about it.”
“No, what video?”
She shakes her head, letting me know I won’t get another drop of information from her.
Fine. I pull out my phone and send a quick text to Dave, asking if any new videos have surfaced that relate to Bethany or me. Ten seconds later, a video pops up.
I hit Play. The moment the audio comes through, Ashleigh curses. Bingo.
The resolution is pretty good, most likely taken on a new iPhone. When the camera zooms in, I can see it’s Bethany sitting across the table from some guy at Starbucks.
Not just some guy.
Fucking Wyatt.
Bethany is leaning across the table toward him, her face twisted in anger and her hand white-knuckling her drink. “You told me you loved me. You told me I was the type of woman a man marries. You fucked me in my car and then broke up with me thirty minutes after in the parking lot of a Dairy Queen!”
That son of a bitch.
My blood vibrates beneath my skin.
“I just wanted the guilt to go away! I just wanted it to stop, so I tossed a lit book of matches into the backseat of my car, hoping to baptize my mistake in fire.”
“Holy shit.” I watch Bethany stomp out of the restaurant to a roar of applause, and I close the video. “She’s bat-shit crazy.”
“That’s right,” Bethany says from the doorway of the bathroom, making me jump. “I am. You think I’m such a good person because I work two jobs and volunteer at the church and at a retirement home? I’m paying my way out of what should’ve been a felony charge for arson. That’s what happens when I fall for the lies of people like you. Now you know. So now you can leave me alone.”
“What? No, I’m… I don’t want—”
“What about your ex, the one you were cuddled up with just the other night?” Fire lights behind her eyes, and I’m equal parts scared and turned-on by her fury.
“I was with Ryder and Mark the entire time in LA. Whatever you saw is a lie.”
She steps closer, and I itch to grab her and crush her against me. “How many children have you fathered—”
“Are you kidding me with this shit? Is that what all this is about? You can’t believe everything you read about me!” I fist my fingers in my hair. “You’re terrified, I get that. Loving me is not a safe bet, but don’t sabotage what we have because you’re afraid of getting hurt.”
“Just go away!” Bethany’s face is flushed with anger. “I’m bat-shit crazy, you said it yourself. You don’t want all this! Trust me. I’m doing you a favor.”
I search for the right words and can only think of four. “But I love you.”
“Anyone can say I love you.” She stomps off toward the offices.
Ashleigh races after her. I shake myself to follow just as a blond guy peeks his head out of the sanctuary doors.
“Hey, Beth.” Wyatt, that dickhead, goes after her.
“Yo, Wyatt!”
He stops and turns toward me, and his fake concern for Bethany morphs into anger. “She doesn’t want to see you.”
I step right up to him, cock my arm back, and slam my fist into his nose. “That’s for what you did to Bethany.”
He drops to the floor and cups his face.
I squat over him. “If I find out you’ve tried to speak to her, and trust me, I’ll find out, there isn’t a dollar amount too high I wouldn’t pay to have you killed.”
He garbles on his own blood and fear.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes, I understand, Jesse.’”
I unlock the front doors and head outside. The paps rush to me again.
“I’ll answer all your questions if you guys will take me to the airport.”
“Fuck yeah!”
They show me to their car, and I climb in the back. I punch in a text to Dave.
I need a first class flight to LA ASAP.
“What’s going on with you and Kayla?” one pap asks before we’ve even left the church parking lot.
“Nothing.” I hit a quick text to Ben, telling him I’m going back to LA and I’m sorry.
“She says you two were engaged,” the other pap says.
“Nope. We were never engaged.”
An itinerary for a first class Delta flight from Phoenix to LA leaving in fifty-seven minutes comes up on my phone.
“What? Why not?” The first pap laughs. “She’s hot.”
I grip my phone and stare at the window. “Because I belong to someone else.”
24
Three months later…
Bethany
“This is stupid. I look stupid.”
Ashleigh’s face pops over my shoulder in the mirror as she adjusts the back of my top. “No, this is necessary and you look gorgeous.” She snaps a few of the straps into place. “You haven’t been out in months except to go to work.”
“When have I ever been the type of girl who goes out?”
“Excellent point, but it’s time you get out there and see that there is life after Jesse Lee.” She turns me around, stands back, and looks me up and down with an almost clinical eye. “Good.” She nods. “This’ll do just fine.”
I turn around and study myself again. Faux-leather leggings, a red top that’s nothing but criss-crossed strings in the back, and black heels that shove my five-foot-five height up a few inches. “I’m not hung up on Jesse.”
I’ve been telling her that since the day he called me bat-shit crazy at church then ran back to LA. She didn’t believe me then and she clearly doesn’t believe me now. Maybe going out and meeting someone new is just what I need to get her off my back, to prove to her I’m not heartbroken over Jesse.
Because I’m not.
Not really. I suppose I would’ve been had I stuck around long enough to let him break me. I’m just grateful I saw who he really is before I fell any deeper.
Since he left, I’ve deleted all my social media and refuse to Google search him to see what he’s been up to. I know if I do, I’ll see images of him with his newest conquest. She’ll be tall, sexy, rich, and look perfect on his arm. There’s no way I can handle seeing that.
That doesn’t mean I’m hung up though… does it?
Ashleigh swipes on her cherry-red lip gloss. “Come on, our Uber is here.”
I sigh into the mirror. “Here goes nothing.”
We arrive at the Blue Agave nightclub in Old Town Scottsdale just after eleven o’clock, and the line to get in runs the length of the street. I grab the black studded clutch Ash let me borrow and follow her out of the Uber and into a shorter line with red velvet rope that indicates VIP. An insanely large man wearing all black and sporting a manly beard gives Ashleigh a hug. She yells something into his ear over the music, and it brings his eye to me. H
e grins, all white teeth behind well-trimmed facial hair, before he steps aside and waves us by.
Ashleigh hooks her arm in mine and leads me through the thick throng of men and women all dressed to catch attention. “We’ll go to the back bar, it’s less crowded!”
I mouth okay and allow her to take me through multiple rooms, each with their own kind of music and screens showing anything from music videos to random clips of nature documentaries. The crowd thins out a bit in the back, and I’m grateful for the wiggle room as we press up to the bar. Ashleigh orders a rum and Coke, and the bartender looks at me for my order.
“I’ll have the same. Minus the rum.”
Our drinks are delivered, and I’m grateful Ash doesn’t give me crap about not drinking. We spin around and press our backs to the bar, checking out the scenery. The dance floor in this room isn’t nearly as full as the others—probably because the music is less trance and hip hop and more guitar and rhythm and blues.
“I think Big Jim the bouncer likes you,” Ash says in my ear.
“The guy at the door?”
She pops her eyebrows a couple times. “Yeah. He’s cute, right?”
I nod and sip my Coke. He is cute. I liked his tattoos. They reminded me of—I cut off that line of thought. I am not hung up!
“Do you want me to introduce you to him later?”
“Sure.” After all, the mission for tonight is to prove I’ve moved on.
“That guy in the Misfits shirt is hot.” She openly points at him.
The guy is hanging out with a couple other guys, but I can only see their backs. Still, I smack her hand away. “You’re being so obvious.”
She laughs. “It’s a club. Everyone here is obvious. Want me to ask him to come have a drink with us?”
I scrunch up my nose. “If you want to. I’m not really into guys with a man bun.” A memory of messy reddish-brown hair flashes through my mind. “Actually, yes. Let’s meet him. He seems nice.”
Ash looks at me as if I’m a second grader in a college class who just stuck her foot in her mouth. “Nice. Right.”
She waves, and the guy lifts his chin in acknowledgment before he makes his way toward us, his friends watching with amusement.
