Betting Jessica

by Deanne Wilsted

  She had overlooked one major issue with transporting her groceries by bike… without an attached basket there was no way to get them home. Desperate, Jessica had hung a bag off of each handlebar until one had become caught in the spokes of the bike, stopping it dead and throwing her over the top.

  Lying there in the store parking lot, with the breath knocked out of her, she had tried to decide if it was worth getting back up. Eventually, a really nice lady had helped her and then given her a cloth bag to use instead of the now ripped plastic ones. She had helped Jessica stuff the groceries in and finagle it onto her back like a sort of backpack.

  Now she was finally home. Her bananas were surely bruised, but at least she had coffee for the morning and detergent to wash her clothes. She grabbed the detergent, shedding clothes as she made her way to the laundry. She threw it all in, set the knob and then ran naked back to the kitchen to put away her groceries. Finished, she made her way to the bathroom. She could not wait to stand under the hot water for at least half an hour.

  “God damn it to hell.”

  Jessica jumped out of the freezing cold water.

  “Can I not catch one break, not even just one?” she shouted at the universe.

  Ten minutes later, after messing around with the temperature controls, she finally decided the water heater must be broken and called the rental manager.

  “Oh, honey, that sounds miserable,” the manager said after Jessica had told her all about her lost luggage, flat tire, bike crash and freezing shower.

  Jessica calmed down when she heard the sympathy in the woman’s voice.

  “I don’t mean to complain,” she said more reasonably. “It’s just that I have barely any clean clothes and now I can’t even wash myself off.”

  “No, no, of course dear. It’s no problem. Don’t you worry we’ll get it fixed right away,” she said. “Only, something you said made me wonder, were your clothes washing when you got into the shower?”

  Jessica realized what the manager was thinking and ran back to the bathroom to try the water again. Hot water flowed out of the tap as if it had been there all along.

  “Um, yes,” she finally said.

  “We should always warn people that the old washer uses up the small hot water tank. Give it a little time to fill back up honey, and then I’m sure you’ll get your nice warm shower.”

  “Thanks,” Jessica said softly and hung up.

  Not wanting to make another mistake, Jessica started pulling open drawers around the kitchen hoping for appliance directions. She knew one thing for sure… even if the dishwasher started spouting suds there was no way she was going to call the manager back.

  So no directions, but at least a corkscrew, Jessica thought closing the last drawer. She was definitely ready to start drinking, too bad there wasn’t any wine hidden away to go with it.

  Finally she gave up and decided to give the shower a go again. Shockingly it stayed hot for a long time, and when she finally got out she felt better than she had all day. She pulled her sweats out of the warm dryer and cuddled up into them. With a hot cup of coffee in one hand and her iPhone in the other, she curled up on the couch and prepared to give the airline a piece of her mind.

  Three transfers later she had tracked down someone who knew about her bag and said it would be delivered by the end of the day. Yay! Back to cute clothes, she thought. She checked her watch. Best of all, it was only 4:00pm; there was still time to call Becky.

  “Jess?” Becky answered the phone with a yawn.

  “Hi Beck,” Jessica said. “Isn’t it like 7:00 your time? You weren’t already asleep were you?”

  “No. Just lounging,” Becky replied. “Blaise and I did a sunrise row this morning and I’m totally wiped out. How are you?” she asked with more animation.

  “Fine. Tired. But I’ll tell you all about it in a sec. Your day sounds like a lot more fun. How cool to go out rowing.”

  “Yeah, well, it would have been,” said Becky sounding grumpy, “but Blaise wanted to get the perfect photo and got mad that there were clouds. He made us keep rowing back and forth until he finally got the view he wanted. He did get some great pictures though,” Becky finished, clearly bored. “I’ll send you copies.”

  Jessica wondered at Becky’s tone. She wasn’t at all like her normal, chipper self.

  “Well, even sitting on a cold river sounds a lot better than what I have been dealing with out here. You would not believe!”

  “Is everything okay,” Becky asked anxiously.

  “Oh yes. Don’t worry. It’s nothing that bad; just lost luggage, flat bike tire, cold rainy weather and getting pulled over by a policeman for not wearing a helmet.”

  “Yikes,” said Becky. “That does sound miserable.”

  “Yep, pretty much,” answered Jessica. “Oh, and I got Ian’s address and then managed to lose it again within about an hour.”

  “You what?”

  “I know. Really stupid, huh? But anyway, at least I remember the street name. And it turns out the address wouldn’t have helped me much since none of the houses have any numbers on them.”

  “Oooh, very exclusive.”

  “Definitely,” said Jessica. “Well, I mean I guess so since all of the houses are behind huge gates and are so far from the road you can’t actually see them.”

  “How’s the condo?”

  Jessica looked around. She had lit the Duraflame log and was curled up on the cushy couch. The windows perfectly framed the bright blue sky and the pine trees on the mountain. She thought it was a nice haven to come back to during her campaign.

  “I think you’ll like it Beck. It’s nothing extravagant, but it is really comfy and charming in a rustic sort of way. If I didn’t have so much to do to win this bet, it would be a great place to enjoy a vacation.”

  “I can’t wait!” Becky said. “Plus, I miss you already. I wish I could have taken more time off,” she sighed.

  “I know; me too.” Jessica pouted, even though Becky couldn’t see it through the phone. “Oh well… maybe it’s a good thing. I really need to stay focused on my plan. I still have a bunch of ideas to work on for meeting Ian.”

  “So what’s next?” Becky asked.

  “First I’m going to make my dog walking signs so I have a reason to go back to the neighborhood and walk around. Who knows, I might even be able to make some money. Maybe I’ll get really lucky and Ian will have a dog he needs walked.”

  Becky laughed at the image of Jessica walking a bunch of tiny yapping dogs.

  “Then,” Jessica continued, interrupting Becky’s giggles, “I need to figure out how to get out onto the lake to see if I can actually find the house from that direction. Also, I know he likes to golf, so I plan to call the courses to see if I can discover which one he uses.”

  “Sounds like you’ll be busy till we get there,” Becky said.

  “Speaking of we…” Jessica answered hesitantly, “what’s new with Peter and Erik?”

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Erik had to admit it, he missed Jessica. Last night he had finally figured out she was a lot easier to like when she wasn’t around. All he could think about was the way they had left things when they had kissed at her parents’ house. He wondered what she thought about the kiss. Who are you kidding? You wonder if she thinks of it at all.

  Erik on the other hand couldn’t seem to get it out of his head. For years he had spent most of his time thinking about the last stupid fight they had gotten into. Now here he was obsessing on kissing her. It was crazy, demented, totally insane. He knew it, but he still couldn’t seem to stop. He sort of wanted to talk with Peter about it, but last time he did that he ended up even angrier at Jessica. In fact, that was when he decided to join them on this trip.

  He really needed a plan of his own instead of simply reacting to her like he had been doing lately. Maybe if he had a plan he could stay level headed and then they wouldn’t fight. She’d see he was actually a fun and nice guy. Maybe, eventually,
he’d even get a chance to kiss her again; although it would be nice if that happened without her crying.

  That idea seemed more like one of the dreams he had been having about her lately. He knew they were dreams right away because they were always laughing together and then whispering and then… Erik sighed, and then they’d share a kiss where she’d look into his eyes and smile.

  Erik shook his head trying to dispel his thoughts. God, he really needed to get a life. Okay, he thought, what’s a good plan for being around Jessica on the trip? Maybe if he actually helped her with the bet she would start to trust him a little and wouldn’t think he was trying to make her lose. The problem, though, was that he didn’t really want her to win the bet because that would mean she would actually get to go out with Ian and he knew what that would lead to. He felt his temperature rise just thinking about it.

  What on earth was so special about Ian Drake anyway? Maybe, if he dug up some dirt on him he could show Jess it wasn’t worth trying to win this stupid bet. That sounded promising. Only, he knew there was no way Jessica would ever believe anything he told her about Ian.

  Think, think, he told himself. There was no way he could convince Peter or Becky to help him with this. Maybe he could send Jessica anonymous notes. But that seemed a little too Mission Impossible. Plus, he was pretty sure she would know it was him sending them.

  Erik scratched his head. Why was he wasting so much time on this? What he needed to do was go play tennis. That would help him let go of it all. And who knew, maybe a good plan would come to him. He called Peter up to see if he had time to play.

  Erik was slamming the ball across the net when Peter showed up at the tennis court.

  “Wow. That’s some aggressive serve,” Peter whistled.

  “Yeah, well I’ve been working on ways to whoop you,” Erik answered back with a sweaty smile.

  “Looking forward to it,” Peter said.

  A while later, though, Erik had soundly lost all three sets, along with four balls which he’d hit over the fence. He was climbing around through the ivy and brush behind the tennis courts trying to locate the last one while Peter was practically doubled up on the bench laughing.

  “Good thing you practiced that serve,” he taunted.

  “Whatever,” Erik grumbled back. “What kind of balls are these anyway? I was doing fine before you showed up.”

  Peter had noticed, in fact, that Erik had been doing fine up until he had mentioned that Jessica had already gotten Ian’s address. Either Erik really wanted to win this bet, or any mention of Jessica’s name sent him right over the edge.

  Erik stormed back through the gate, leaves stuck in his hair, a sour look on his face and the offending tennis ball clenched in his hand.

  “Goodness, look at the time,” Peter said, hurriedly throwing his stuff in his bag. “Gotta go.”

  “Chicken,” Erik said.

  “You bet,” Peter answered back. “Any minute now that ball’s going to miss the fence and hit me. No thanks.” He laughed. “Hope you work out whatever it is though.”

  Erik sat on the bench bouncing the ball and thinking about what Peter had said. The tennis game itself had been lousy. But it had helped him finally come up with his plan for surviving Tahoe. Drink a lot, all the time even. That way, maybe, he wouldn’t think about Jessica and her stupid bet. Decision made he packed his bag and headed off the court. No time like the present to put his plan into practice.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Jessica sat at her new favorite coffee house and piled up her supplies in front of her. She carefully laid the poster paper out and penciled in her dog walking ad.

  She smiled as she sipped her coffee. She was glad just to be out in the sunshine today. Most of the previous day she had been stuck in the condo calling around to see which golf course might be the one Ian would use. She hoped it wasn’t one of the private ones or she wouldn’t be able to get in.

  Eventually she had found a local public golf course that was so expensive it might as well have been private. The fact that it was near Ian’s house seemed promising. Since Peter was bringing his clubs, going to hit balls at the driving range was on her list to do after everyone arrived.

  Jessica stood back to look at her artistic endeavor. She wasn’t very good at drawing, but she sort of liked the way the dog on her ad looked almost like a Rodrigue print.

  “Hmmmm, interesting,” she heard over her shoulder. “Now why would celebrity girl be offering to walk dogs?”

  Jessica’s face turned a brilliant shade of red as she turned around and saw Bad Guy looking over her shoulder.

  “I’m Slam by the way,” he said.

  Jessica panicked. What did he mean by slam?

  “I’m uh, fine,” Jessica said trying to come up with an adequate description to match his.

  “Of course,” Bad Guy said with a grin. “But, I meant Slam’s my name.”

  He held out his hand to shake hers and feeling stupid she shook it then let it go faster than a bathroom door handle at Fenway.

  “I’m Jessica,” she mumbled and noticed Slam’s gaze had returned to her sign. “I was just, you know, thinking someone might need vacation help,” she said defensively.

  “No worries. In fact, I hear they’re always looking for help over on Sierraview.” He smiled. “You should try there.”

  “I know you’re making fun of me,” Jessica answered huffily, “but I don’t care. There’s more to the story; a lot more.”

  She turned her back on him and started coloring in the letters she had drawn.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. Don’t get mad. My friends are always telling me I tease too much.”

  “And you’re a slacker,” one of his co-workers said as he walked by.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.” Slam laughed. “See ya Jessica. I better go. Good luck with the dog walking though. Let me know how it goes.”

  Yeah right, Jessica thought. Slam might make fun of her, but time was ticking and she needed to create opportunities to be near Ian’s house. She finished the posters, rolled them up and stuffed them into the backpack she now took along with her everywhere. She tossed her empty coffee cup and headed back over to Ian’s street to post her signs.

  Jessica was putting up the last poster when she felt a tap on her shoulder. What if it was him? She was almost nervous to turn around. But of course it wasn’t Ian. It was the gardener she’d met the other day.

  “No, no no,” he said and pointed back at the house he’d shown her before. “Esa casa necesita a hacer. Tu tienes que ir ahi.”

  What on earth was he saying? He kept pointing, but Jessica knew there was no way the house across the street was Ian’s. Jessica’s Spanish was limited to taco and margarita, so she had no idea what the gardener was trying to tell her. But what if it was important?

  Jessica looked up and down the street for anyone who could help translate, and then finally reached into her backpack to grab some paper and a pen.

  “Write it. Yes?” she said pretending to write on the paper with the pen. Then she handed it to him. She pointed to the house and shrugged. The gardener smiled and nodded and then carefully wrote out some indecipherable words on the paper.

  “Thank you,” Jessica said smiling.

  She took the paper back and put it into her backpack. Maybe she could find someone who could translate it for her. She waved as she rode back down the street. She cycled slowly, enjoying the view and hoping maybe Ian would just happen to come out at precisely the right moment.

  It was such a pretty neighborhood she thought as she took in the scenery around her. She didn’t love the pine trees and needles everywhere in Tahoe, but here the landscapers had filled in with other beautiful trees and bushes. Even the humongous gates were picturesque. Some of them looked like beautiful barn doors; others were like Spanish wrought iron stair railings.

  Such perfect style amazed Jessica. She stopped to click a few photos of her favorites, and then kept peddling. Without even realizing she was
doing it, Jessica began to design Katie’s next function based on their inspiration. Filled with thoughts of wrought iron candlesticks on a Mediterranean table Jessica was startled to see she had automatically cycled back to the coffee house.

  Wow! This bike must have a mind of its’ own, she thought. Either that or she had been spending way too much time there recently. She was getting ready to head back out of the lot when she suddenly remembered the piece of paper from the gardener. Maybe one of the coffee house guys would know what it said. She locked up her bike and jumped up the steps to go inside.

  Slam was nowhere to be seen so Jessica nonchalantly walked up to the counter, nervously fiddling with the piece of paper in her hand.

  “What can I get for you?” asked the guy behind the counter.

  “Uh… well actually,” Jessica paused considering whether she should buy something as an excuse for being there. Then she remembered her budget and swallowed her pride. “I wondered if anyone here spoke Spanish?”

  The guy looked at her quizzically.

  Jessica glanced down at the paper and then held it up for him.

  “I, uh, have this note in Spanish I can’t read and I thought maybe someone could, you know….”

  “Sure,” the guy said and then, to Jessica’s shock, grabbed the note out of her hand and took it over to a customer.

  Oh my God! She hadn’t wanted him to disturb one of the patrons. The girl was smiling at him though, so apparently he knew her. Jessica tried to overhear what she was saying but the café was too loud. She watched the guy’s face as he walked back toward her, wondering at his look of confusion. The girl must not have understood the note after all, Jessica thought, disappointed.

  “So she couldn’t translate it?” Jessica asked when he got close enough.

  “What? Oh, no. She totally could,” he said, handing the note back to her. “It says, ‘That house needs a maid. You go there.’ Does that make any sense to you?”

  He was apparently expecting her to also be puzzled by the translation. Unfortunately, Jessica knew exactly what it meant. It meant the gardeners thought she looked like a maid!