Heart's Choice

by Celeste O. Norfleet

  “I’ve always wondered about one thing,” Devon began.

  Jazz sipped her soda and tried to keep control of her pleasant smile. But the idea of being asked about her life always gave her pause. “What’s that?”

  “After the sitcom went off the air, you disappeared for a while. I always wondered what happened to you.”

  “Nothing. The sitcom was great, but by the fifth season I was getting tired of it. I needed a break. Remember I’d been working nearly all my life. I started modeling baby clothes for magazines before I was one year old. I continued modeling, doing commercials and the TV show up through my teens. I needed to get out of sight and stay under the radar for a while. I did some off-Broadway shows, but mainly I went to school.”

  “College?”

  She nodded. “I cut and dyed my hair, used my first initial and mother’s last name and had a very successful college career as J. Brooks. It was great. No one knew who I was. And those who did know didn’t care and didn’t bother me about it.”

  “I think you like total anonymity.”

  “Yeah, I do. Sometimes my life gets too sensationalized. People forget that I’m just a normal person.”

  “Not exactly. You’re a movie star.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of the craziness and just think about chucking it all and disappearing?”

  Devon smiled brightly. “No, never. There are kids all over this country dreaming about someday doing what I do. I love my job. Few people can actually say that.”

  “You’re lucky.”

  “Are you saying that you don’t enjoy what you do?”

  “Actually, I do. It’s the other stuff that I can live without. The crazy tabloid stories, for instance.”

  “Yeah, I can commiserate there.”

  “Sometimes they get pretty mean.”

  “You can’t let them get to you.”

  “I don’t usually, but sometimes it’s harder than others.”

  “Like when your brother died,” he offered.

  She nodded. “Yeah, they were really brutal.”

  “What was your brother like?”

  “Brian.” She smiled, looked up and seemed to drift away into her memories. “He was supercool. He was gentle, kind, fiercely protective, fearless and unafraid.” He smiled, seemingly amused. She looked at him questioningly. “What, you don’t believe me?” she asked, slightly disturbed.

  “On the contrary, that description sounds a lot like you.”

  “I wish. No, Brian had the cool of Billy Dee and Denzel, the wild fun side of Depp and Hendrix and the intellect of President Obama. He was so loving and loyal. He was dark and passionate, with a brilliant zest for life that was unimaginable. I know it sounds strange to say that he loved life but then committed suicide, but that’s how he was. Always conflicted.

  “We first met on the set of one of his movies. Talk about awkward. His mother, Elizabeth Rotherchild, was there, and my mother was there. They looked at each other and all hell broke loose. I was young, maybe ten years old, and I had no idea what was going on. I mean, I knew that Frank was my dad and it was okay that I never got to see him much. But learning that I had a big brother was major.”

  “What happened?”

  “Once again our screwed-up family drama made the headlines. Elizabeth wanted me off the film. She threatened to pull Brian out and get Frank involved if I stayed. Of course, my mom was adamant about me keeping the part and them honoring the contract. The bottom line was that the studio caved. I lost the part, and they sent me a check that helped pay for my college education.”

  Devon chuckled. “Wow, that’s amazing. So how did you and Brian eventually become as close as you were?”

  “E-mails and text messages, mostly. He e-mailed me to apologize for everything, and that started it all. If his mother had any idea how long we’d been friends, she probably would have strangled both of us years ago.”

  “He didn’t tell her?”

  “Oh, no way.” She chuckled. “Elizabeth Rothchild, soap opera queen, was known for being melodramatic, but that was nothing compared to her temper tantrums. You can’t just tell her things like that and expect her not to freak out.”

  “She must have hated that fact that the two of you became close.”

  “She did, and actually my mom did, too. She wasn’t Brian’s biggest fan at first, either. After a while they both knew there was no way they were going to break us up. We admitted that we kept in close contact at first just to spite them, but that didn’t last long. Brian and I have so much in common.” She stopped, took a deep breath and corrected herself. “Had so much in common.”

  “He sounds like he was an amazing man.”

  “He was,” she said then seemed to quickly regroup. “Okay, that’s it. Enough about me. Tell me about you.”

  “Come on. You know my life. Everybody does,” he said.

  “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t. Sure, I’ve seen the commercials and the endorsements. But that’s it. You’re a football player. What position?”

  “I’m the quarterback for the Los Angeles Stallions.”

  “Why aren’t you playing now? Are you hurt?”

  He chuckled. “You really don’t know sports, do you?”

  “I’ve been kind of busy the last twenty-five-plus years.”

  He nodded. “Okay, I’ll accept that. So I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you stop by this evening and I’ll show you some game films? I’ll order pizza and pop some popcorn. We’ll watch football all night.”

  “Sounds tempting, but I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “I’m busy this evening.”

  A sudden hot streak of jealousy shot through him. “Anybody I know?” he asked jokingly.

  “None of your business,” she said, smiling.

  “Come over afterward.”

  “Persistent, aren’t you?” she joked. He nodded. She shook her head. “Wait a minute. You keep footage of yourself playing ball?” she asked.

  “Yes. It’s not like an ego trip or anything like that. As a professional athlete, I learn from them. What I did right and what I did wrong. It’s like when you see your movies on the screen….”

  She shook her head. “Not quite. I’ve never seen one of my movies on screen.”

  “Never?” he said, louder than he expected, and then lowered his voice. “That’s really surprising. I thought all movie stars saw their pictures.”

  “I’ve seen the daily rushes and final cuts after edits, but to actually go to the movies and see myself up on screen in theaters? No thanks.”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “I’d be mortified, for one thing. Another is that I’d see all of my flaws and imperfections. There’s no way I want to see that on an IMAX megascreen. That’s why I enjoy theater performing in front of a live audience. I go onstage, do my show and never have to think about that performance again.”

  “You have to be joking. You’re tremendously talented and beautiful. Well, maybe not today with that getup on,” he joked. She playfully swung at him as they laughed. “But seriously, I’ve seen your movies. You’re flawless.”

  She looked away, slightly embarrassed by the compliment. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, but still, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said then reached across the small table and held her hand. “But it wasn’t a compliment. It was the truth.”

  She looked into his eyes. She saw total sincerity. She also saw something else. Her stomach flinched and her hand shook. The attraction she’d first felt for Devon was getting stronger. Thankfully she still wore her dark sunglasses, because there was no way she wanted him reading her eyes right now. “How did this conversation get back around to me again? I want to hear about you.”

  “Okay, fair enough. What do you want to know? Ask me anything.”

  “Anything?” she asked. He nodded. “And you’ll answer honestly?”

  He nodded again. “Ask away,” he confirme
d effortlessly.

  “Okay, you asked for it. What scares you most?”

  “Failure.”

  “What was your favorite present?”

  “A football at age seven. I still have it.”

  “What do you treasure?”

  “My freedom.”

  “What do you miss most from your childhood?”

  “It’s a tossup—two-stick orange popsicles and recess.”

  “Who ended your last relationship, you or her?”

  “Me, definitely,” he said emphatically.

  Jazz noted the instant narrowing of his eyes and the tightened muscle in his jaw. She’d hit a nerve. There was obviously something more than just a parting of the ways. She wondered if it had something to do with what the girls in the bookstore were talking about. “Who do you most not want to be like?”

  “My father.” His eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened again.

  “Okay, who do you call when you’re in trouble?”

  “My grandfather.”

  “What can’t you live without?”

  “You.”

  She ignored that. “What’s the best time you ever had?”

  “Today, this moment, right now here with you.”

  The second unexpected answer took her off guard. Jazz shook her head. “Devon, what you think you feel…”

  Devon smiled. “My feelings aren’t as transient as you seem to think.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Because it’s true,” he said simply.

  “Devon, whatever you think is going on between us because of the other night isn’t. It was just sex, a physical release.”

  “Are you sure about that?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Positive,” she said quickly. They both knew she was lying. “No.”

  He nodded. “Very aptly put.”

  “You are so bad for me,” she declared.

  “And you are so very good for me.”

  “What am I doing here with you? I can’t do this again.”

  “Do what? I’d never hurt you, Jazz,” he assured her.

  “We both know that this could go in any direction.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  “You’re not playing fair,” she said.

  “I never promised to. I promised to answer honestly.” She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. The look in his eyes softened her heart instantly. His eyes focused and held sincerity. She looked away. “Jazz,” he said softly, seeing her struggle, “look at me.” After a few seconds, she turned back to him. He reached out and removed her dark sunglasses. “I didn’t expect this, and I didn’t exactly plan it this way. But it’s happening. You feel it, and so do I. When we made love last night…”

  “Yes, about what happened between us last night. I shouldn’t have let it go that far.”

  “But it did, and it was perfect,” he said. She shook her head. “Yes, it was. For both of us. You needed a friend, and I was there,” he said quickly, not giving her the opportunity to express more regrets.

  “Friends don’t usually cross that line.”

  “Friends comfort friends. You needed comfort. I was there.”

  “Is that all it was? Comfort?” she asked, looking at him directly. He smiled, but didn’t reply. “And you, what did you need last night?”

  “I needed to be there with you.”

  “Please don’t tell me that this was some kind of macho thing.”

  “You really don’t trust anyone, do you?”

  “It gets kind of difficult after a while. Everybody wants something from me. So, Devon, tell me, what do you want from me?”

  “To be a friend. You once told me that you needed one.”

  “You’re going to be married soon. Melanie’s out right now seeing to that. So all this is pretty much a moot point. Because believe me, your new wife will not appreciate your having me as a friend.”

  Devon nodded slowly. He saw the concern and apprehension in her eyes. Suddenly she was all too clear. “What are you afraid of, Jazz?” She didn’t respond. He continued. “Being loved for the wrong reasons or being loved for the right reasons?”

  “One night together doesn’t mean you know me,” she said.

  “You’re right,” he confirmed then paused to look away. “You know, seeing you at the party the other night brought back some great memories. I never told anyone this, but you were my first love.”

  The words hit her like a javelin through the heart. Jeremiah and Gavin had said the exact same thing. It was something she’d always heard, and it always meant the same thing: trouble. “This was such a huge mistake.”

  “Why does it have to be a mistake?”

  “I shouldn’t have gone to your house last night.” She gathered her sunglasses and put them on quickly.

  “I’m glad you did,” he said softly, “although I was disappointed you left so early.” She looked around anxiously. “Jazz, we have an attraction, and you can’t deny it.”

  “Yes, we do. It’s a sexual attraction that can be handled.”

  “I think it’s a bit more than just sexual.”

  “Devon, I can’t keep playing at this game. I won’t be your next toy. We both know this attraction will pass, has to pass,” she said. He smiled without responding. “And when it does—”

  “And when it doesn’t,” he interrupted before she finished.

  “It will. This would be a disaster, and I’ve had enough relationship disasters to last me a lifetime. So whatever you think you’re feeling…”

  “I know exactly what I’m feeling,” he assured her.

  “Actually, you don’t. Memories, childhood memories, are a strange thing. They cling to you, staying with you forever. And even when you’ve grown up and think you’ve put them behind you, they’re still there. You saw me the other night at the party, and I was the kid from television, the teenager from stage. But that’s not me anymore.”

  “You think I don’t know that? I know exactly who you are.”

  “Oh, so you read minds, too, huh?”

  “I don’t have to.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t have a clue. I am the perfect vehicle. Men see me and want to use me to relive some past fantasy. Do you have any idea how many dates I’ve been on where the man tells me that I was his first love?” she asked. He shook his head slowly. “Well, I do. I don’t want to be used by somebody anymore.”

  “It’s a little late to re-create who you were.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t want people to recognize you, so you run and hide behind dark sunglasses and a big hat. Jazz, you can’t hide from who you were any more than you can run from who you are. You were a child star and a teen idol. The same kids that watched you on television and bought your CDs have grown up, too. You created the product. We all bought into it. Now you want everyone to forget everything. It doesn’t work that way. You can’t turn celebrity on and off. I’m the perfect example of that.

  “I’ve played football nearly all my life. Kids watch me and want to do what I do and have what I have. Do you know how many men would love to have four different women hand them the key to their hotel room every night? I’m not bragging—it’s just a fact. I get that constantly. It’s the nature of the business. But it’s the business that we chose…. Yes, perks, drama and all. You say that people, men, see you and want to relive a childhood fantasy. People see me and want to live their present. It’s what we do. It’s what we chose to do, and now you use that as an excuse to justify your fears.”

  “What fears?”

  “You’re afraid of being loved, or rather that no one will love you for who you really are. That’s why you pretend to be someone else and never yourself.”

  “You don’t know me,” she said defensively.

  “I think I do. I answered the questions you asked. That’s what you wanted. I can’t help it if you’re not ready to hear the answer. You’ve hidden all your life, and now there’s nobody to hide behind.
Your mother and brother are both gone.”

  Her heart slammed against her chest. Her pulse raced and her eyes narrowed. She glared at him furiously. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said between clenched teeth.

  “You’re standing on your own now, and you’re scared. Scared of the future, scared of the past, scared of yourself. But most of all you’re scared of being like your mother.”

  Jazz glared at him furiously. She’d had enough. Making a scene in public was one of her worst nightmares. Jazz knew that she couldn’t go there, so she quickly changed the subject. She glanced at her watch. “It’s getting late. I need to head back to the house.” She stood up quickly. People sitting nearby looked at them.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, seeing her distress.

  “I’m not upset,” she lied less than artfully.

  “Jazz, I get that you’re a good actress, but anybody can see that maybe I was a bit too honest. I’m sorry.”

  “Devon, your opinion of me, however biased and erroneous it might be, doesn’t affect me.” He nodded. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get out of here.”

  “I’ll walk you to the car.” He stood, too.

  “No, that’s fine. I can manage alone. Yeah, that’s right, all by myself. I’m not scared of the big bad wolf or anything.” She smirked then lowered the brim of her hat and adjusted the dark sunglasses. Her hands shook nervously.

  “Jazz, let me walk you. I insist,” he said, taking her shaking hand and holding it still. She looked at him, but didn’t pull away. “I can see that you’re angry. You can’t drive like this. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “No, not at all,” she lied slightly more convincingly, but she knew that he still saw right through her. “I’m fine. I’m used to running and hiding, remember?”

  “Jazz,” he began.

  “Devon, don’t. The next time you want to review someone’s life I suggest you take a nice hard look at your own. Get your own house in order before you start throwing stones at mine.”

  He looked at her suspiciously. It was obvious she knew something. “What do you mean?”

  She smiled. “You know exactly what I mean. You’re not exactly a choir boy, are you? You do your dirt and use women then walk away, don’t you? Well, not this one. You held my life up to me with a microscope, I think it’s only fitting that you look at your own life the same way. Do me a favor—lose my name and number.” He looked furious. She smiled, having hit her target.