Face the Music

by Salsbury, JB

  My love for her.

  For Ashleigh.

  Damn. I’ve fallen so hard for her and there’s no return from where I’ve been.

  I scribble the next few lines of lyrics, not sure if they belong in this song or another, but the more I think about Ashleigh, the more the words pour onto the page.

  My phone buzzes and I glare at the thing before remembering I’m at work, not alone in some cave where I can weave songs with abandon.

  I hit the intercom button. “Hey, Donna.”

  “Ben, Mr. Gunthry’s on the phone for you.”

  “Put him through.”

  “I’m running to the office supply for a few things then lunch. Unless you want me to stay for moral support.”

  “No, I’m sure it’s just an update. If they had a verdict, they’d show up in person.”

  “Be back in an hour.”

  I close my notebook and tuck it into the top drawer of my desk as if somehow the DOEE might be able to see it through the phone. I thank Donna, then pick up the phone and hit the blinking light. “This is Ben Langley.”

  “Pastor Langley, how are you?”

  “All right.” I rock back in my office chair, feeling a twinge of irritation that he would even ask, considering the investigation. “How can I help you, Mr. Gunthry?”

  “I wanted to let you know that the verdict on the complaints against you has almost been reached. We’re waiting for a few more people to weigh in, and as soon as we come to a conclusive verdict, I’ll set up an appointment with you so we can discuss.”

  “Discuss what? I’ll either be found guilty and asked to step down, or innocent and be allowed to continue my pastoring. What else is there to discuss?”

  “There are other options, depending on the verdict.”

  “Like what?”

  “You could be simply demoted. We might be able to move you to another church as long as you sign a written agreement to abstain from your involvement with Jesse Lee.”

  “You’re saying if I agree to not be involved with my brother?”

  “Professionally speaking, yes. Although I don’t see why you’d want to be involved personally either.

  “Do you have a brother, Mr. Gunthry?”

  “No, I have two sisters though.”

  “And you’d so easily walk away from them if it meant your career?”

  He seems to think that over for a minute. “If what they were doing was wrong and immoral, absolutely.”

  “Imagine how different the gospels would be if Jesus hadn’t spent his time with people who were considered ‘wrong and immoral.’”

  “We aren’t here to rewrite the regulations of Christianity, Pastor. We’re only here to enforce them.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem. When was the last time you read a Bible?” I ask. “Jesus’s ministry stood in the face of the law and regulations of religious leaders at the time.”

  That’s when my old familiar friend doubt shows up, and I start questioning why I’ve dedicated most of my life to a church system that can oftentimes be corrupt and unbiblical.

  “I didn’t call for a theological debate, only to inform you that I’ll be in touch as soon as we have word.”

  “Great,” I say, the single word laden with irritation.

  We hang up, and I pull out my notebook.

  Rewrite history with your rules.

  Abolish freedom with broken tools.

  Crush love with greed and hate.

  Broken hearts lie in your wake.

  Man’s thirst to divide.

  Spiritual genocide—

  “Any chance I can get a private appointment with the pastor?”

  I grin into my notebook and look up to find Ashleigh leaning against the door of my office, looking good enough to eat. I leave my pen in the pages and close the book, then sit back to take her in. “I think I can work you in.”

  “Donna’s not here.”

  “I know.”

  She struts inside, moving like a feline. “Did you plan that?”

  “Nope. Dumb luck.” I nod toward the door. “Shut the door and come here.”

  She bites her lip and smiles, then closes the door and stares. “There’s no lock on this thing.”

  “I know, so get over here fast so I can kiss you thoroughly.”

  She practically skips to me. I push back from my desk, expecting her to sit on my thigh the way she did this morning, but she does one better and straddles my desk chair.

  “You know,” she says as I run my palms up and down her thighs, “I’ve had many fantasies about me being with you in this exact same position, except with a lot less clothes on.” She’s wearing a loose-fitting tank top with a blue lace bra that has intricate straps, looking like a sexy package begging to be unwrapped. “But this’ll do.”

  I slip one hand into her hair and apply a gentle pressure.

  “Unless you’d rather move to the couch or—”

  “Mouth, Ash.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own.

  “Or not.” She leans down and kisses me as if we haven’t seen each other in six days rather than six hours. Her hands slip up the back of my neck into my hair and tilt my head, taking the kiss deeper as if she’s been starved.

  She pulls away with a gasp. I take advantage and kiss down her neck to her clavicle, then drag my tongue between her breasts that are pushed up in offering. She moans my name and the sound goes straight between my legs.

  “We can’t get too carried away in here.”

  I close my eyes and rest my forehead on her chest, breathing hard. “I know. You’re right. When I’m around you, I lose all sense.”

  She kisses my head then hops off my lap. “What’s for lunch?”

  How she can be thinking of lunch right now is proof she has a lot more experience in this area than I do. I’m seconds away from throwing all the vows I made, as well as my career, out the window so I can clear my desk and lay her on it.

  I suck in a shaky breath. “Um…”

  “Focus, Ben.” She drops into the chair across from me, a knowing smile on her lips.

  I chuckle. “I’m trying. Just need to get some of the blood back to my brain.”

  She throws her head back and laughs, the sound a wash of calm to my heated libido.

  Ten minutes later, we’re sitting on the patio at a place I read about back when I was researching restaurants for mine and Ashleigh’s first date. Has it been two weeks since our first date? Feels like days and a lifetime ago at the same time.

  We take a minute to look through the menu, then place our orders so that we can hand off the menus and focus solely on each other.

  She leans across the table and whispers, “This is weird, right?”

  “What?”

  Her eyes widen. “Being out in public together.”

  “We’ve been out in public before.”

  “Yeah, but that was thirty miles from Surprise.” She looks around. “A lot of people know you in this town. If they see us together—”

  “They’ll wonder how a regular old shmuck like me was lucky enough to get a lunch with a woman as captivating as you.”

  Her cheeks turn red, which is such a pretty look on her. It’s not often Ashleigh gets embarrassed about anything. “You really don’t care?”

  “I really don’t care.” I take her hand across the table. “Matter of fact, you seem way too far away.”

  I don’t question the flicker of worry in her eyes, chalking it up to her millions of concerns about how we’re going to be seen as a couple. I have questions of my own, but none of them belong at this meal with the sun shining and the cool breeze blowing. For now, we will live in the moment.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ashleigh

  I haven’t seen Ben since our lunch Monday. On Tuesday, I was called into work early after one of the waitresses quit. All week I’ve been pulling long shifts, open to close, both behind the bar and on the floor. By the time I clock out, my body aches and I’m dead on my feet.r />
  Friday night turned out to be one of the busiest nights we’ve ever had. Thanks to a resident DJ coming in from Las Vegas, the place was packed, and we were understaffed. Oh, and the gloriousness of Mother Nature showed up, banging her big bloody fist on my uterus, which not only made me bitchier than usual but added to the pain in my lower back and legs.

  Grabbing my purse after I clock out on what is now Saturday morning, eager to fall face-first into my bed for the next ten hours, I check my phone.

  Call me when you walk to your car.

  I read Ben’s text. The same one he’s sent every night this week, insisting that I stay on the phone with him until I’m home safe and under the covers, further proving he’s a great man. I hit his contact and press the phone to my ear.

  “Hey, Ash.”

  The way he says my name, especially late at night when he’s probably had a couple hours’ sleep, is a sound I fucking live for.

  “Hey, Ben.” I’m sure I sound as swoony and dreamy as I feel.

  “Walking to your car?”

  “Just about to leave, yeah.”

  On Monday at lunch, he asked me if I walk to my car alone. I told him we have security, but they keep to inside. He wasn’t happy about that and insisted from now on that I call him before I leave the building.

  “How was your night?” he asks.

  “Busy. I don’t know how much longer I can do this at my age.”

  He hums low—half laugh, half thoughtful contemplation. “You ever think of doing something different?”

  I push out of the door and into the alley where Ben and I kissed against the wall. I can’t look at that section of brick without smiling. “I don’t even know where I’d begin. I can’t think of anything I’m good at.”

  “I can.”

  “Yes, well”—I stare at my feet, hiding my ridiculous grin, as I walk toward the lot—“there’s a name for women who get paid for that.”

  He chuckles, the sound so dark and delicious, I shiver. “Funny, but I was thinking more along the lines of your people skills.”

  “Is that what you’re calling it?”

  “Ash, you are so much more than what you can do with your body. You’re funny, smart, quick-witted, and you’re fantastic with Elliot. And all that isn’t even tapping the surface of your potential.”

  “You sound so sure. What if you’re wrong about me?” I’m weaving through the cars, my head down, so I don’t see Anthony leaning against the hood of my car, smoking a cigarette, until I’m standing a foot in front of him. “Fuck, Anthony, you scared the shit out of me!”

  “Ash?” That’s from Ben, who must hear the fear in my voice.

  “Yeah, I’m here. Hang on.” I tuck the phone into my palm at my side despite Ben’s grumble telling me to stay on the phone. “Why are you waiting for me like some kind of psycho?”

  Anthony blows smoke rings and smiles. “Grab a drink with me.”

  “Not tonight.” I try to get to my car door, but he slips in front of me, blocking my door.

  His eyelids are heavy and his balance off as he falls back against my car a little too hard. “Don’t be such a stiff, Ash.”

  Different from Ben, when Anthony says my name, it’s like a million spiders on the back of my neck.

  “What are you doing? What, was Stormie busy tonight or something?”

  “I don’t want Stormie.” His gaze slides up my thighs, my belly, and to my boobs. He licks his lips.

  “I’m not interested.”

  “Come on, babe. We have history and chemistry.” His eyes are glazed over, but I don’t smell alcohol on him. He’s definitely on something though.

  “I failed both, so if you’ll get the fuck out of my way—”

  “You used to let me in that pussy. Why’re you playing hard to get?”

  My face ignites with a furious blush. Even with my phone pressed against my thigh, is it possible Ben heard that? If I weren’t nervous about Anthony doing something stupid, I’d hang up on Ben.

  “No means no, Anthony. Now back the fuck off my car or I’ll call the cops, and something tells me you do not want your blood drawn tonight.”

  He laughs humorlessly. “You used to be fun.”

  “Yeah, well, you’ve always been a dick.”

  He stares at me for a few pointed seconds before his expression morphs from slack to pinched. “Fuck you.”

  He takes another drag of his cigarette then flicks it at me. I try to move but I’m not fast enough. It hits my throat and goes down my shirt, right between my boobs.

  “Ow, fuck!” I try to knock out the blazing cherry, the pain letting me know it’s already left its mark. I eventually get it free, biting back a string of curses.

  With my phone in hand, I swing hard and crack the motherfucker in the nose. His hands go to his face and he stumbles forward. I hit my key fob, jump in my car, and lock the doors.

  “You fucking cunt!” His words are muffled behind his hands and the glass.

  I feel sick, wondering what all Ben heard. I hit the gas and pull out of the lot, nearly running over Anthony as I do.

  “Ben—”

  “What the fuck just happened, Ash? Are you okay? Come over, right fucking now or I’m coming to you.”

  “Ben, calm down.”

  “Calm down? Did you just say calm down?”

  “It’s all right.” I breathe through the flood of adrenaline, hoping to erase the shake in my voice. “I took care of it.”

  “Was that Anthony? What did he do to you? It sounded like there was a struggle. Is he still there? I’m calling the cops—”

  “Ben, please. It’s over, okay?” The spot between my breasts burns, and tears spring to my eyes. “I handled it.”

  “Handled what?”

  “I mean…” I can’t tell him the truth, that Anthony, a man I let into my life, a man I let into my bed, multiple times, would treat me like trash the way he just did, it’s too much to confess. “Nothing. He just wouldn’t get out of the way, so I shoved him aside.”

  “Come over.”

  “No.” At a stoplight, I check to make sure Anthony isn’t following me. Then I look down and cringe at the blisters forming on my chest. “I’m so tired. I just want to go home and sleep.” Can he tell I’m crying?

  “Ash, please. I need to see that you’re okay.”

  “I’m telling you I’m okay.” I need to get home and behind a locked door.

  “I’m coming over.”

  “With Elliot? At three in the morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s not necessary.” Tears slip from my eyes, stupid hormones mixing with disgust and shame and pain. Suddenly I no longer feel like the woman worthy of Ben and his kindness.

  “That was so fucked up, Ash.”

  “I know, I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

  “Sorry I had to hear it or sorry it happened?” The rage in his voice is undeniable.

  “Both.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’ve handled a lot worse than Anthony, trust me.”

  “Like what?”

  No way am I going there. “I’m home.” I’m not, I’m still a few minutes away.

  “Really? That was fast.”

  “Yeah, well, the streets are empty, and I may have sped.”

  “Are you inside?”

  “Yep.”

  “You tell Stormie that under no circumstances is that prick allowed in your apartment.”

  “She’s not even here.” I hate lying to him. I clear my throat. “She uhh…went home with some guy she met at the club.”

  “How predictable,” he says with disgust in his voice.

  I bite my lip. Does he not realize I’m no different from Stormie? That before him was a long line of meaningless sexual encounters, some I hardly remember?

  I clear my throat. “I’m going to bed.”

  “All right, babe. I’m not over this by a long shot, but I know you’re tired and you don’t seem in t
he mood to talk about it tonight.”

  “No, I’m not. Thank you.”

  “Ash…”

  “Yeah, Ben?”

  He doesn’t say it, but I hear I love you in the silence. “Good night.”

  I don’t respond, because in this moment, I’ve never felt further from being the woman Ben deserves.

  * * *

  I don’t know what time it is when I wake up on Saturday, but I feel as if I slept for one hundred years. After days of double shifts and chaos, and the added bonus of Anthony and his psychotic ass, it took me a while to wind down enough to fall asleep. But when I did, I was out cold. As I blink open my eyes, my bedroom is filled with sunshine that rips through the gaps in my blinds.

  I don’t have a chance to reach for my phone and check the time before I feel the heat of a big body at my back and a muscular forearm around my waist.

  “The fuck!” I scamper out of bed, the confrontation with Anthony still as fresh a fear in my head as the quarter-sized blisters on my boobs. I spin around, ready to defend myself and freeze when I see those warm brown eyes looking at me. “Ben, you scared the shit out of me!”

  He has the decency to look embarrassed and sits up, runs a hand through his messy hair, and sits at the edge of the bed. “I guess you don’t remember me coming in this morning.”

  “How did you get in here?”

  He looks at me, but he doesn’t check out my body like most men would. Even though I’m wearing nothing but a cropped T-shirt and panties, he keeps his eyes on mine. “Stormie let me in.”

  I look at my closed door, trying to get my tired head up to speed and piece it all together.

  “Donna’s with Elliot. I came over pretty early to check on you. Stormie had a friend over, so she was awake and let me in.” He looks as though he wants to reach for me, but he doesn’t. “I didn’t want to wake you, but when I got in bed with you, you said my name, so I assumed you knew I was here.”

  I said his name? In my sleep? Oh, that’s fucking wonderful.

  “It was selfish.”

  I blink at him. “Huh?”

  “You told me you were okay, but I had to see you for myself.” Soulful dark eyes search mine, and it takes everything I have not to drop my gaze to my feet. I need him to believe I’m okay, because I am. Or I will be. “What happened last night?”