It is Risen

by H. Claire Taylor

  “Ow! God dammit!” Rex’s head popped up from behind the oven. “Keep it in your pants, kids.”

  Jessica pushed Chris away from her quickly. “You have a lot of room to talk, Rex. I still hear my mom’s bedpost tapping away every time I shut my eyes. Like the damn Tell-Tale Heart.”

  Although, it was probably good that he’d broken up their anxiety-induced love fest. Jessica had pressing hosting duties to consider.

  As she left the kitchen, Miranda and Quentin walked through the front door, large metal buckets in each hand. And in each of the buckets, ice and a dozen beer bottles. “Party’s here!” Quentin said, strutting toward the counter where he set down his buckets then took Miranda’s from her.

  The rest of the guests came flooding in shortly after. The majority of the Nu Alpha Omega sisters arrived in a bunch with Kate and Pippa leading the herd.

  It was only the founding members who had received the invite, not so much because Jessica wanted to be exclusive, but because she didn’t know if she could afford to feed so many people. But also, that meant Courtney wasn’t invited. As much as Jessica believed Courtney had turned over a new leaf, she still didn’t want to spend time around the Wurst girl.

  Jeremy Archer held open the door for Maria Flores and Gabrielle Polaris, who chatted animatedly with him as the three entered the bakery. He smiled sheepishly at her, and she nodded begrudgingly to let him know he was still welcome after their tense encounter in her condo a week and a half before. Judging by the way he related so easily with Maria and Gabrielle, it was entirely possible that she’d overreacted, that he hadn’t been implying what she’d thought he was about the reporter.

  Or maybe he was just a psycho. There was definitely something off about the man, even if he did seem relatively harmless.

  As Jessica welcomed the new arrivals, trying not to let the shock at seeing Maria in casual clothes show, Dr. Bell and Mrs. Thomas arrived. Dr. Bell smiled amicably as she held the door for Mrs. Thomas, who nodded her thanks and entered. Jessica’s two former teachers parted ways quickly once they were inside, but not before noticeably sizing each other up.

  Where Dr. Bell went to greet Jessica’s sisters, Mrs. Thomas made a line straight to Jessica, wrapping her up in her arms. Jessica gave into the softness of Mrs. Thomas’s plump body, and a second later, the woman pulled back, her hands still on Jessica’s shoulders as she took in the sight of her. “I’m so proud of you, Jessica.”

  She felt Chris’s eyes on her from the opposite side of the room where he was sitting with Destinee and Brian Foster, who’d arrive a few minutes prior. “Thanks, Mrs. Thomas. Couldn’t have done it without you, obviously.”

  “Psh! Of course you could have, it would’ve just taken a little longer. Oh.” She leaned forward conspiratorially, so Jessica did the same. “I’ve been meaning to ask if you ever got the picture of the signed contract. I texted it to you and never got a response.”

  “Oh, um.” Jessica scanned her memory and cringed. “No, I don’t remember getting it, actually.” Yet another detail I forgot about.

  Mrs. Thomas nodded. “That’s what I was worried about. My phone is a little old. I’ll send it to you again right—” She opened her purse and then paused. “Shoot. Looks like I left my phone in my car. I’ll go grab it and be right back.”

  When she turned, Jessica placed a gentle hand on her to stop her. “Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Thomas. I’m not. You can do it later.”

  Chewing her lip, she finally nodded. “Oh, all right. You know—” Her eyes locked onto something behind Jessica that seemed to disturb her greatly. “Is that the man from the restaurant?”

  Jess twisted to spot Joshua. “Yeah. I know. He’s here with my friend Judith.”

  Mrs. Thomas’s face was dark, her eyebrows low as she shook her head slowly. “Oh no, no, no. He shouldn’t be here, Jessica. If there’s even a chance that he had something to do with the fire …”

  “I’m not thrilled with it either, but I’ve already asked Chris to keep an eye on him.”

  Mrs. Thomas pursed her lips and sucked in air through wide nostrils. “Whatever you say, Jessica. But I still don’t love it. I think I’m going to have a chat with him.”

  “If that makes you feel better, be my guest.”

  Mrs. Thomas nodded determinedly and set off to do just that.

  While Quentin and Miranda busied themselves handing out drinks, Chris pumped music through the speakers he’d hung earlier that afternoon. Before long, the alcohol worked its miracle, and the initial tentative conversations grew into a loud ruckus with an occasional outburst of laughter.

  This was actually going well.

  Jessica tried not to let the notion put her on edge. Instead, she hustled into the kitchen and brought out a fresh tray of hot kolaches, each with her image seared onto the top. And while serving such a vain treat to her closest friends and family seemed endlessly tacky to her, no one else seemed to think so.

  Instead, it was a hit.

  Dammit. I guess I have to go through with this idea after all.

  Certainly it was a little too late to back out, now that she’d spent just about every penny she’d been given to get this place ready for its grand opening in three weeks, but that didn’t mean her brain wasn’t constantly looking for an out, some perfect excuse that would give her permission to retreat back into a safer lifestyle.

  Miranda snaked through the crowd and waited patiently for a break in Jessica’s forced conversation with Jeremy and Maria, who seemed to be hitting it off. When Maria turned to face Jeremy directly, asking him to clarify what the term “abductionist” meant, Miranda jumped in. “Looks like you’re running low on the kolaches. You got anything else back there?”

  Chris hustled over, eyes wide. “Okay! Just listened in on a conversation Joshua was having with Natalie, and something weird is definitely going on with that guy. Natalie mentioned something about being crucified over … I don’t know, something with women’s rights, and Joshua got all defensive. I think he might be a Jesus freak. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But, you know, like a Jesus freak who doesn’t like that you’re God’s daughter. Maybe even a Catholic.”

  Miranda hitched a thumb at Chris but addressed Jessica. “What the hell is he talking about?”

  “Nothing,” Jessica said. “Just wanted him to keep an eye on—” Movement by the front door caught her attention, and she felt her stomach drop down to her feet. “Oh my god.”

  SURPRISE!

  Chris and Miranda both whirled around to see what Jessica was staring at.

  Chris said, “You didn’t know Wendy was—oh shit.”

  “Yeah,” Jessica said.

  Slowly, as guests caught sight of Wendy’s date, the chatter of the room took on a hushed but furious tone.

  “Damn, he looks even better in person,” Miranda said. “How did you never mention that?”

  “I guess I was too busy PTSD-ing out. Um. I should go deal with this.”

  She left Chris and Miranda, making a beeline for the front door, where she was greeted by two beautiful, smiling faces. One was Wendy’s, and the other, which looked no worse for wear despite having had a bullet scorch through it four years before, was Jameson Fractal’s.

  “Jessica,” he breathed. “I’m so happy I finally get to see you again.” His hazel eyes bore into her with such intensity that she thought she might actually pass out. Ugh, he was dreamy. It was incredibly inconvenient. “Hi, Jameson.”

  “When he heard about this, he wanted to come,” Wendy said like that was an adequate excuse for dropping this bomb on Jessica’s psychosexual well-being.

  “We should talk,” Jameson said, his gaze flickering briefly from her eyes to her lips.

  “Yep.” She scooted around him and opened the front door, and he took the cue and went right back out from where he’d entered. She glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the party and immediately regretted doing so. Every single guest was staring. Miranda had a strong arm ex
tended in front of Chris’s body to hold him steady. The table of NAOs stared hungrily at Jameson, some of them biting their lips, others lifting an eyebrow ever so slightly. Mrs. Thomas wore a similar lecherous expression where she’d paused in her conversation with Quentin.

  Joshua was the only one who didn’t seem aware he was in the presence of a celebrity, and he turned this way and that in his seat, curiously studying the intense gazes. Had this guy lived under a rock? What the hell?

  She was more relieved than nervous to finally shut the door behind her and be alone with Jameson. He walked over to a bench in front of one of the bakery’s front-facing windows and sat down, patting the spot next to him.

  “No,” she said, shooing him off with a flick of her wrist. “Not in front of the window.” She scooted him along until they were out of sight of the rest of the party, which left them standing back by the dumpsters that she hadn’t yet had occasion to use for anything but packing materials.

  “I know you’ve been avoiding me, Jessica.”

  With no clear reason to lie, she said, “Yes.”

  “I don’t want it to be this way. You saved my life.”

  She held up a hand. “Nuh-uh. I didn’t save your life. I pulled your hysterical sister off you so you could die. Then I brought you back to life. There’s a difference. A big fucking difference.”

  He folded his arms across his chest, and she tried not to stare at his perfectly sculpted forearms revealed by his rolled-up sweater sleeves. “That must have been hard for you.”

  She laughed dryly. “Hard for me? You got shot in the face. No, through the face.” She pointed to her cheek. “It went in here, and then out here.” She touched to the exit point, which she was certain she remembered within a millimeter.

  “Hey,” he said smoothly, and she immediately thought, I shouldn’t be near a wall with him. I know what he does with women and walls. Could I say no? She had her doubts, even while Chris was within moaning distance.

  “It was a bad situation all around,” he said. “And I know you blame yourself for it, but that’s bullshit, Jessica. You’re the real deal. I know that. I’m alive because of that. Even my skeptical sister believes you are who you say you are. I mean, hell, she’s letting you live in her home. Granted, she didn’t actually want it when I bought it for her, but she could have sold it—”

  SURPRISE! MANKIND, AM I ENJOYING THIS!

  “Hold. Up. I’m living in your sister’s condo? In Dr. Fractal’s condo?”

  He squinted at her. “Uh, yeah. I told Wendy to let you know that. She had to have told you.”

  “She didn’t. But that makes sense. Well, once the bakery gets up and running, I’ll be able to afford somewhere else. Probably not somewhere as nice, but somewhere safe-ish.”

  “Jessica, stop. You can stay there as long as you want. Why don’t you want to take anything from me and my family? Did we do something to you?”

  She chewed the inside of her cheek and leaned forward to get a closer look at Jameson’s jaw. Not a trace of the fatal injury.

  “You can touch it if you want,” he said, turning his head and offering his cheek to her.

  “No, that’s a very bad idea.”

  “It’s fine. Here.” He grabbed her hand gently and moved it toward his face.

  “I don’t think you understand how—” Her fingertips touched his warm skin in the chilly air, and her eyes rolled back into her head as her brain did a quick system overhaul, wiping all discs of anything Chris related.

  She swallowed hard and yanked her hand back. “Yeah, I get it. And I don’t hate you or Dr. Fractal. I just … I feel awful. She warned me against getting involved in politics in the capacity I was doing it, and I didn’t listen, and it got you killed.”

  He chuckled. “It got me cast in better roles, is what it got me.” He scrunched his nose, grimacing briefly. “Well, once I wasn’t terrified to leave the house.”

  “So what do you want from me?” she asked. “Forgiveness for getting you shot? I don’t think I follow.”

  “Jessica,” he placed a hand on her arm and she wondered if he could help being sexy and flirty or if it were a mental tic he had. “I want you to let me help and support you. I want you to stay in my sister’s condo for as long as you want. Hell, I’ll sign the deed over to you, since she doesn’t want it. And I want us”—he waved his hand between them—“to have a relationship.”

  What she meant to say was, “I have a boyfriend.” But as her discs continued to be wiped, she replied, “I need want too for that.”

  He seemed to understand, nodding his head before holding his arms open to her.

  Were they going to make out? What was happening?

  She took a single hesitant step forward and he closed the rest of the space, crashing his body into her and hugging her tightly. She used his soft sweater to muffle her whimper and groan of “you smell like heaven” which was simply an illogical thing to say but felt as true as anything she’d ever uttered.

  “Huh?” he asked, his chin resting on the top of her head.

  “Nothing.”

  He pulled back and looked into her eyes again. “So, are we good?”

  “Yeash. Yes. Yeah. We’re good.”

  “And you forgive me for crashing your party?”

  His over-the-top puppy eyes cracked her brittle armor, and she chuckled at the absurdity of the situation. “Yes, I forgive you for—”

  Those same puppy eyes rolled back into his head as a shiver ran through his body and he moaned.

  She gasped and jumped back, cupping a hand over her mouth. “Oh fuck. I’m sorry, Jameson. I didn’t mean to … Um. That was inappropriate and—” His predatory stare cut her words short.

  “Was that … forgiveness?” he asked.

  She cringed. “Yes. Sorry.”

  “Can you forgive me again?”

  Shaking her head slowly, she said, “I really shouldn’t. I have a boyfriend.”

  He rolled his shoulders, inhaled deeply, and regained his sexy composure. “I get it. I respect that.”

  When he didn’t immediately make a move to head back inside, she added, “Will you stay for the party?”

  “Yeah, I’d love to.”

  “Cool. Um. Could you do me a favor?”

  “Anything.”

  Whoa. That was a little much. But okay. “Could you take as many selfies as possible with my sorority sisters? I mean, they’re going to want a lot of them. And then could you send them to me so I can forward them to my social media coordinator? They said they don’t do parties ’IRL’? Not sure what that means.”

  “You don’t happen to be talking about Cash Monet, do you?”

  She narrowed her eyes, cocked her head to the side. “Uh, yeah, I do happen.”

  He grinned. “Of course. Figures. Wendy forced me to hire them after I posted a bathroom mirror selfie on Facebook. Social media is hard.”

  Jessica smiled, though even she knew not to post bathroom mirror selfies. “So true.”

  “Does my hair look alright?”

  “It looks like a goddamn angel styled it. Or maybe the patron saint of barbers or something.”

  Jameson’s brows pinched together, which was annoyingly sexy.

  “I just mean it looks great. Whatever. Never mind. Let’s go back inside before Chris has an aneurysm.” She headed around the building and Jameson stayed by her side. “Oh, also, you should probably go talk football with Chris. Do you like football?”

  “Of course.”

  “What team?”

  “Cowboys.”

  “Perfect. Go talk to him about Jason Witten, okay?” They reached the front door and Jameson nodded.

  “Whatever you say, Jessica.” He grinned at her and she averted her eyes as a defensive measure while Jameson held the door open.

  The guests were much friendlier with one another as she entered, even those who had only just met. Thank god for alcohol.

  Jameson headed straight over to Chris, introducing him
self. When Jessica heard the words “tight end” float over from their conversation and saw her boyfriend’s hardened expression soften around the eyes, she knew she was off the hook for her alone time.

  Kate approached through the crowd. “Okay, so not mentioning the fact that you just had time alone with Jameson Fractal, which we will be talking about later, I think the time is ripe for you to say a few words.”

  Jessica glanced around. Kate, in all her leadership wisdom, had a point. This was obviously the last ten minutes of the night before everyone crested and then began the inevitable downhill slide to drunkenness. At the moment, though, everyone was at peak sociability and friendliness.

  Making her way over to the front counter, Jessica found the nearest glass object (the tip jar) and the nearest metal object (someone’s discarded keys) and clanged them together to get the room’s attention. Once all eyes were on her, and Quentin hollered, “That’s where I set them down!” Jessica cleared her throat and tried to remember what she was planning on saying.

  She looked out over the faces, some from her childhood, others the few friends and allies she’d picked up along the road since, and she realized, yep, this was a total mistake. She’d never been good at public speaking, and having all the people she cared about in one room left her paranoid. What if someone set the building on fire?

  She scanned around until she located Judith’s date. He didn’t seem to be up to anything at the moment, which was good.

  You’re being a crazy person. Focus.

  She grabbed a beer from the bucket behind her, twisted off the top, and took a long sip. That helped. She hadn’t drunk nearly enough over the course of the evening.

  “I don’t really have anything important to say to y’all except thanks. I guess I’ve been a little paranoid about accepting help from anyone, for obvious reasons, and I guess I never really thought that the number of people I could rely on would ever be enough to fill a room. So, um, this is cool.

  “Oh, also, you guys are all welcome to free coffee anytime you want once the bakery is open.”