Betting Jessica

by Deanne Wilsted

  “You guys have a nice night and don’t wait up.”

  She was turning toward the door when Erik said, “You know, catering for him doesn’t count as a date. He actually has to ask you out.”

  Jessica spun back around. “Well, obviously. But let’s say he wants more from the evening than the coq au vin? Does that count?”

  “Well, that probably depends. I still say it has to be an actual request.”

  “How about a request to see a little more of me?” Jessica answered back becoming angry. “I mean tonight, of course.” She ran her hand down the front of her sweater which made Erik glare even more. He was obviously searching for something that would keep her from winning.

  ”Jessica,” Peter cut in, clearly annoyed with both of them, “stop taunting Erik. You’re the one running this project so you figure out when you’ve actually won. And Erik, there’s nothing you can say that can help here.”

  Erik caught Peter’s sympathetic look and became even angrier. With a last glare at Jessica he stomped out onto the deck.

  “Aren’t you even going to wish me luck?” Jess threw after him while Peter shook his head and frowned.

  “You’re going to be late Jess,” he rebuked softly.

  “Fine. I’ll see you all later then,” she said and stormed out.

  Chapter Sixty

  “God, I’m glad that’s not us,” Becky said with a grimace. “It’s exhausting the way they make everything so difficult.”

  Peter grabbed her hand, thrilled they were finally alone but also unsure what to do next. He wanted to kiss her… pretty much more than anything. But it was so new as to be awkward still between them.

  “They certainly don’t make it easy,” he finally agreed, playing with the ring on her finger.

  “My mom gave that to me when I turned eighteen,” Becky said.

  Peter tried to catch up with her segue; he hadn’t really been paying attention to the ring, only the feel of her fingers in his.

  “Oh?” he asked finally figuring it out. “Was it hers?”

  “No, but she said that when she turned eighteen my grandmother gave her an identical one to let her know they were proud of the woman she was becoming.”

  “That’s very mom-ish.” He smiled at the image.

  Becky gave an embarrassed little laugh. “At the time, it seemed sort of corny to me.”

  Peter liked the way they were the same height so he could really look into her eyes. He got lost for a moment thinking how they were as perfect together as he thought they would be.

  “But sometimes,” she went on, “like now, knowing they have faith in my judgment makes me believe in myself a little more. You know?”

  “So, uh, do you think they’ll be okay with it? I mean, with you and me being together?”

  Becky smiled at him. “Peter, you know they adore you. My Dad’s probably your biggest fan. I’m sure mom and I will go crazy trying to get you guys to stop stargazing long enough to help with the dishes at family dinners.”

  Becky’s confidence in their being together went through Peter like a shot of caffeine. He leaned over to show her even a small part of what he was feeling. Every kiss with her felt like an extension of that first one; filled with hope and excitement and relief.

  The kiss deepened and Peter forgot all about Jess and Erik, the bet, or anything except for his wanting. In the back of his mind, the very far back, he registered the sound of the screen to the deck sliding open and then closed.

  “Are you kidding me? What the hell is going on around here!” It was a statement, not a question. “You guys? Jess? I thought we were supposed to be on vacation together… all of us.”

  Erik stormed through the condo and slammed straight out the front door.

  Becky and Peter exchanged apprehensive looks.

  “Hmmm, I guess that wasn’t quite the right time for him to find out, huh?”

  Peter stared at Becky uncertainly.

  “I better go after him.”

  ”Go, go.” Becky pushed him away. “In fact, why don’t you guys make a night of it? I’ll stay here and paint my toenails.” She wiggled them in his direction. “Any particular color you’d like?”

  Peter swallowed hard trying to ignore of the visual of her perfectly painted red toes lying against white sheets.

  “Anything but red,” he said, grabbing his cell phone off the coffee table. He gave her a quick kiss. “We’ll be back in time for dinner.”

  Hours later Peter was losing track of how many margaritas they’d drunk. He’d caught up with Erik pouting down at the pool and knew he was going to have to take drastic measures.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he’d said and Erik had followed him to the parking lot to wait for the taxi Peter had already called.

  It had taken a pitcher of margaritas but Erik had finally started to open up while Peter sat there and tried to make sense out his ramblings.

  “So you and Becky, huh?” Erik said. “Who saw that one? I guess not me. I mean, I should have, but I guess I’ve been a little distracted. It’s that damn bet. I knew the whole thing was a mistake. I should have told her straight off that the whole thing was my fault. But no, I had to protect my stupid ego. And now look.”

  Through his buzz Peter knew there was something important in what Erik was saying but couldn’t get his head around what it might be.

  “Well, I agree. At first I thought the bet was bad news,” Peter slurred trying to work it out. “But the thing is, look how far she’s come on pure willpower. I had no idea she could be this committed to something.” Peter went to take a slurp of his margarita, but sipped at it instead. “So, it’s not all bad I guess.”

  Erik sat there and glared at him a minute.

  “Yeah, sure. Not bad at all,” he finally mumbled.

  Peter still couldn’t figure out what was eating him.

  “Hey, I know things seem kind of weird, with Becky and me getting together. But it’s not like Jess is the one you found kissing anyone. I mean, I know you have a thing for her, but what are the chances she’ll actually get that far with Ian?”

  Peter was so wrapped up in his theory that he didn’t even notice Erik’s scowl growing darker and or hear him try to deny the thing he had for Jessica.

  “Although even I can tell guys are more interested in her than they used to be.”

  Peter belatedly realized this might not be the best way to distract Erik and tried to change course.

  “So anyway the bet was a good thing for her. Now she’s a lot cuter. And besides you’re not the one on the line; she’s the one who made the stupid bet and has the most to lose, right?”

  Suddenly something clicked and Peter’s daze cleared. This was the key point he’d been missing. He looked at Erik closely noting that he was now looking down into his margarita forlornly.

  “So,” Peter tried to ask as casually as he could, “what was in this thing for you, anyway?”

  Erik, looked up briefly, and then went back to looking glum.

  “It doesn’t matter. You’ll never believe it. I don’t even believe it happened actually.”

  Peter waited, and then finally became frustrated. “Okay, so what? How bad could it be? I mean, unless you have the hots for Ian Drake.”

  Peter started to chuckle at his own joke but then stopped when he saw that even this hadn‘t lightened Erik’s mood.

  “You remember how Jess was pretty drunk the night we made the bet?” Erik asked, still ultra-serious.

  “Do I?” Peter said, laughing for real. “I was worried we’d have to carry her home.”

  “So, the thing is, I guess the alcohol may have mellowed us a bit; well, anyway, me a bit. And as I sat there talking to her she just seemed to become,” Erik glanced up and shrugged as if to take the jolt out of his words, “different… uh, cuter.”

  Between his drinking and his desire to come clean Erik’s speech sped up till it was as fast and winding as a roller coaster.

  “I mean, we were fi
nally talking for a change, not yelling at each other and I suddenly thought about how much fun we have together. Really, even when we’re fighting, though it’s way more fun to kiss her, but thank God I didn’t know that back then. Anyway… so I… I sort of asked her out.”

  “You? You asked her out? I mean, the night of the bet? I knew you’d had a thing for her recently, but…” Peter tried to get his head around this. “So, what did she say?”

  “Well, that’s the thing. See, she somehow took it all wrong. She got all mad at me for asking. I don’t know why,” Erik grumbled. “I was perfectly nice when I asked her. Maybe a little bit you know… surprised, but I’m sure I was nice.”

  Erik scrunched up his face, clearly trying to remember back. ”I mean, I must have been, right? I wouldn’t have asked her out nastily would I?”

  Erik talked right over Peter’s loud guffaw.

  “Anyway, she said something about hell freezing over or Ian Drake asking her out before she’d ever go out with me.”

  “Huh,” Peter said, thinking things suddenly made much more sense.

  “Why do you think she would be so mean about it?” Erik asked forlornly. “I still don’t understand her at all.” He looked up at Peter. “She didn’t have to be so mean about it is all.”

  Peter tried hard to look sympathetic while not letting a laugh escape. There was nothing like a sad, drunk friend to put things back into perspective. Erik and Jessica were a disaster unto themselves. Only two such sensitive people could have made such a muck out of something as simple as a date.

  “I’m guessing Jessica probably thought you were making fun of her.”

  Peter held up his hands to interrupt Erik’s denial. “I know you were serious, but considering how much the two of you fight I can understand how she may have thought, well, that you were mocking her.”

  Peter paused while Erik took this in.

  “So, did you try to fix things, or…” Peter let the thought taper off as he realized what would have come next. “No, of course not. You made the bet, and then she took you up on it. And now here we are.”

  Peter shook his head sadly as Erik stared down into his drink. They both sat there silently considering all that had happened since then.

  “Anyway, I guess it doesn’t matter about the stupid bet. The bottom line is that she’s just not interested in me like that. She wouldn’t keep going on and on about dating Ian if she were, right? So, I gotta move on.” Erik nodded his head trying to convince himself of this. “Yeah! It’s time to let go of this whole thing and move on.”

  “Actually Erik…” Peter tried to stop him but he was clearly in his own world.

  “So what if she dates Ian Drake,” Erik continued trying to pour himself another margarita, and then giving up after looking into the pitcher and seeing it was empty. “It’s not like she’s the only girl in the world, right? And I’ve had it up to here,” Erik wacked himself in the chin trying to demonstrate, “trying to be nice to her anyway.”

  Peter laughed at the thought of Erik ever being nice to Jess. Still, maybe Erik was right. Who could figure girls out? It seemed like Jess would have somehow let Erik know if she liked him back. Either way, they’d be much better about figuring it all out in the morning, when things weren’t so muddled. And maybe Jess was having a really rotten time with Ian and it would be mute anyway. Peter threw some money on the table and grabbed Erik before he slid off his chair.

  “Come on,” Peter said as they stumbled toward the door. “Let’s get a taxi and find our way home.”

  “Yeah…” Erik said heartily, “home.”

  Chapter Sixty-one

  Okay, Jessica told herself, act cool and sophisticated.

  This would have been difficult enough under normal circumstances, but given that she had been standing outside of Ian Drake’s door ringing the bell for the last five minutes, it was nearly impossible.

  She placed the cooler she was holding filled with food on a stone wall so she could rub her sweaty palms down her skirt. Both shoulders had canvas bags of food slung over them, and she was getting tired of waiting for someone to answer the door.

  Maybe she should go for friendly and sweet, she thought, trying to precariously re-grip the cooler handles. She pictured herself with an innocent little smile playing around her lips and then tried to practice it.

  Or, what about haughty and provocative? Yes, that would be perfect. Try to appear unattainable. She sighed, realizing this was going to be difficult when she could barely wait for him to open the door; something that apparently might never happen in her lifetime.

  She looked over her shoulder at the long driveway and wondered why the person who had opened the gate for her now refused to open the door. Jess didn’t miss the irony in the fact that she had been just three houses away whenever she had talked with the gardeners. She was debating whether to ring again when she saw the front door swing open.

  And there he stood. More gorgeous, much bigger, and much well… more distracted than in any of her daydreams.

  “You must be from MealTime,” he said not even looking at her. He turned around and started walking away, clearly assuming she would follow. “I’ll show you where to put your stuff.”

  He led her through the house without another word, as if she’d seen it a million times… as if she hadn’t been dreaming about this exact moment for months now. Jessica followed him, trying not to laugh giddily when she realized she was finally in one of the rooms from the magazine photos. Strange, she’d never really believed she would see any of them.

  The space was arranged to take advantage of the beautiful view. She slowed down as she walked so she could appreciate the atmosphere. As if in slow motion she took in the beautiful white suede furniture, the roaring fire, the glass table with high heels kicked off underneath it, the stereo with a soft soul melody coming through huge, Bose speakers, the…

  Wait! High heels? High heels! Somehow this was an important detail but it was as if Jessica couldn’t add things up in her head.

  She balanced the cooler containing Ian’s dinner of coq au vin and teetered into the kitchen behind Ian’s muscular back.

  “Oh great, dinner’s here.”

  The sweet voice from across the room was attached to the longest legs Jessica had ever seen in her life. They were barefoot, standing in front of the open fridge door, and obviously belonged to the high heels in the living room.

  Jessica’s gaze moved up to take in the perfect model’s figure, the wrap around sarong over the teeny bathing suit, the long black hair and, when she turned around, the sparkling smile on the prettiest face she had ever seen.

  “Hi, I’m Lisa. Yay! You are, like totally awesome for coming over to make us dinner. I’m starved.”

  It was as if this paragon of beauty were talking to a good friend who had just happened to drop by. She was that nice. And, if Jessica were honest with herself, it was how she had hoped Ian would greet her at the door. Lisa walked over and took the tray from Jessica’s hands lifting the lid and sniffing before putting it on the counter.

  “Mmmm, smells great.” Lisa grabbed Ian by the hand and tugged him toward the living room playfully. “Come on. Let’s get out of her way so we can eat soon.”

  Still in his own world Ian attempted to pull his hand free and reach for the fridge door.

  “Don’t worry; I already got you a beer.” Lisa picked up two bottles from the counter and handed one to him.

  “Men,” she said, rolling her eyes at Jessica, “what can you do with them?”

  With that Lisa finally pulled Ian out of the room and Jessica was left alone.

  Thank God the sturdy counter was there to take the weight of her body which had suddenly turned to Jell-O. What had just happened, she thought to herself? She had yet to say a single word, although it seemed like a lifetime since she had walked in Ian’s front door. In the space of five minutes she now knew the entire bet was down the drain.

  Wouldn’t Erik love that? And, as thi
s thought sunk in, she covered her face and pressed her palms to her eyes to keep the tears from coming.

  “I won’t cry. I won’t,” she repeated like a mantra while attempting to pull herself together.

  She still had to get through the job, and somehow keep her pride intact as she did. She snapped the rubber band off the tray and used it to pull back her carefully prepared hair. She’d come this far, hadn’t she? She could only do what she could do. The smell of the chicken wafted through the air as she moved across the kitchen to turn on the oven.

  An eternity later, Jessica half listened to the soft music playing in the other room while she started to pack up the left-overs and clean the kitchen. She felt surprisingly resigned and almost mellow. At least the dinner had gone well so she wouldn’t have to explain anything to MealTime.

  She heard a giggle, and smiled to herself. Lisa had come in often to see what Jessica was doing. While not the brightest person, she certainly was one of the nicest Jessica had ever met. She seemed to be very interested in cooking, and even though Jessica kept telling her that professional chefs had prepared almost everything back at the catering kitchen, Lisa had continued to drill her with different ‘how-to’ questions.

  Jessica laughed aloud thinking of Lisa’s most recent visit to the kitchen. She had seemed to be getting tipsier on every trip, and the last time she came in she had asked if Jessica had ever made bread… and if so, how did they bake it so the slices came out so perfectly.

  Jess was still smiling and laughing to herself when she heard the kitchen door open. She turned around ready for the next round of questions from Lisa and for the first time all evening faced Ian instead.

  “I’m just about done here,” she said with a pasted on smile. “You have a beautiful kitchen; it was a pleasure to cook in it.”

  Ian gave her a funny look and laughed. “Yes, according to Lisa, you’re quite the chef. I had to check out, for myself, the person who spent more time with my girlfriend tonight than I did.”