Dancing With Venus
Page 20
“Yeah. Well…” Jessie wiped her cheek. “You always did have a tin ear. We gotta get that looked at.”
Marci's chuckle turned into a plaintive sigh.
Jessie turned in Marci's embrace, and they kissed as if it were their first.
Marci searched Jessie's face and finally asked, “Are you through finding yourself, Jess? I read your note and—”
Jessie kissed the words away and let her heart believe. “You're here. You're in my arms. You have no idea how long I've drea—”
“Yes I am, and yes I do. And look at you. You're beautiful.” Jessie blushed. Marci kissed her cheek and went on. “There's something I want you to do.”
Jessie leaned in until their foreheads met and whispered, “Anything.”
“I told you once I wasn't like you. That I couldn't be the rebel without a cause. I also told you I couldn't keep us from my father. Not because—”
Jessie's palms started to sweat in spite of the cold. She shivered and leaned away. Marci pulled her back.
“Don't, Jessie. Not yet. Not until I've finished. Then you can decide. If you want to leave, then you can. My heart and, I suspect, yours too, will be broken, but we're both big girls now. We'll get over it and move on. But hear me out.”
Just hearing the words made Jessie want to cry. She couldn't envisage getting over Marci. She leaned closer and listened.
“I love what you did. Not just with your music. I love that you went to my father and told him. And he was wrong. He was wrong about trying to buy me away from you, but that doesn't make him bad…”
Jessie's own father's words about her mother came back to her. “That don't make her bad. It just makes her wrong. Wrong can be changed. Bad is forever.”
“And I love that you came all the way to Paris to find me. I cried all night that night. But”—Marci reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. Jessie thought she knew what was coming and would have traded her soul for a take-back—“you ran. You did what you do.”
“I'm so sorry, Marci. Really. I just…” Jessie fought to hold back her own tears.
“Wait, Jessie. The thing is, our lives together would be complicated enough, especially with you going and getting all famous and everything.” Marci's laugh had a nervous edge. Jessie wanted to hold her close and kiss the edge away. “And one thing we can't do is be at war with our families. Either one of them. They can disagree with our choice, but there can never be reason for them to point their fingers at us and accuse us of being…”
Marci couldn't go on. She gave in and started crying.
“Shhhh. It's okay, Marci. I get it. It took almost a year, but I get it.” Jessie pulled Marci close. Even in the cold November night, she could smell summer on the woman she loved. When Marci trembled Jessie's heart broke for all the wrong she had done. She whispered, “I'm so sorry, babe. I never meant to hurt you.”
They rocked gently in each other's arms until Marci finally pushed them apart.
“Come on.”
Marci took Jessie's hand, and they stepped into her parents' suite holding hands. Marci leaned close to Jessie's ear and said softly, “Don't you even think of letting go of my hand.”
“There you two are.”
Jessie stared wide-eyed at Judy. When the woman held her hand out, Jessie took it.
“What a concert. Damn. And to think I let you get away.” She glanced at Marci and winked. “But I guess I get to keep Marcella as a consolation prize.”
They spent thirty minutes working the room together. By the third time Jessie's hand left Marci's to greet someone and returned, she stopped thinking about what she was doing. Her mother's voice and her father's laugh intruded from somewhere in the room, and she held on tighter.
Jessie stilled herself when Marci's father came into view.
“Father?”
“There you are. I wondered where you—”
“You remember Jessica.”
The man opened his mouth to speak, but Marci interrupted.
“She's come to—”
“I've come to apologize, Mr. Dionysius.” When Jessie reached across the void, Marci's hand slid up her forearm, but she didn't let go.
“I don't—” Marci's father tried again.
“So first…I'm sorry. Then I want you to know that I love your daughter”—Marci squeezed her forearm and Jessie finished—“and I hope you can find it in your heart—”
“Yes.” Marci's father's palm was warm and dry in Jessie's. “The heart. That's what love is really all about, isn't it?”
Jessie started to say something but stopped herself.
“I'm not going to say I'm happy with this…this…the way things have worked out. And it has nothing to do with you, Jessica. I think you're a fine young woman. A real catch, you might say. And my daughter does too, but a marriage, well, a commitment is hard enough for a—pardon the word—normal couple. I honestly can't imagine what it will be like for you two…”
Jessie tried to pull her hand back, but he didn't let go.
“And children. What about children?” He looked right at Jessie and said, “You. You're taking my grandchildren away.”
“No she isn't. We are. And maybe we aren't. Just because we—” Jessie expected the worst when Marci interrupted her father.
“Well, I want both of you to think about that…but I will tell you this.” Marci's father's eyes softened and looked misty when the words finally came out. “As a matter of the heart, I have absolutely no doubt that you do love my daughter. And that she loves you. And when it's all said and done, that's the most important thing, isn't it? I just hope you take your time and make sure before you go off and do—”
“We will, Father.” Marci smiled, and Jessie's little piece of heaven lit up. Marci's father finally let go, and she chanced to breathe.
“Oh. And one other thing.”
They both waited with bated breath.
“Someone has got to call Ms. Latimore, my personal assistant, and tell her I'm no longer the head prick. She takes great joy in reminding me of that every chance she gets.”
* * *
The three of them stood in the corner talking while the party swirled around them. Words of tentative exploration turned to rambunctious outbursts that left everyone laughing. Mr. Dionysius, Alex, grabbed a waiter and toasted Jessie's concert. He told her she had a fan for life.
When a big arm fell on Jessie's shoulder, she turned to find her father grinning at her.
“Dad. You remember Marci?”
“Sure do.” Ever the gentleman, he leaned in and kissed Marci's cheek before pulling her under his other arm. “Am I ever glad to see you, little lady. Jessie's been—”
“And this is Mr. Dionysius, Marci's father.”
“Alexander. Just call me Alex.” The two men shook hands and squared off.
“Nice to meetcha, Alex.” Her father pulled them both back under his arms. Never one to beat around the bush, he asked Alex with a smidge of Southern-boy challenge, “So whadda ya think of our girls here, Alex?”
The man who stared down dictators and presidents over cocktails on a regular basis didn't back down. He looked at each of them in turn, then at her father. When he finally smiled, so did Jessie. His words brought a bigger smile to Marci's face.
“I think we might just be the luckiest dads in the world. What do you think?”
Jessie's dad kissed them both on the cheeks before trading them for Alex. The two men fell into step, and the last thing Jessie heard her father say as Alex was led away was, “Maybe we can find somethin' with a little more kick than this here grape juice…”
* * *
There had been no skulking about. They'd walked through the empty lobby holding hands and stopped in front of the elevator. They kissed passionately in the elevator and were now both naked between the sheets. Marci hugged Jessie, spooned into her back, and whispered, “What are you thinking about, Jess?”
Jessie wiped a tear away she'd managed to keep hidden. “This.
Us. How wonderful is not to be planning my…”
“Escape?” Marci chuckled.
Jessie cringed. “Yeah. Sorta.”
Marci kissed Jessie's shoulder, then pulled her around and into her arms. They kissed and petted and cooed. They could have made love, but Jessie was glad when they traded passion for the comfort of each other's arms.
Marci said the words first.
“I love you, Jessie.”
Jessie looked into Marci's beautiful black eyes that shimmered even in the dark and let her heart speak. “I'll love you forever if you'll let me.”
“You thought there was a choice?” Marci ran her fingers through Jessie's hair, pulled her close for another kiss, and whispered, “Silly girl.”
Loose Id Titles by Roscoe James
Orion
Dancing with Venus
Roscoe James
Indulge yourself in a sumptuous taste of mystery with a dash of heart pounding thriller. Perhaps a sprinkling of science fiction will be what teases your palate as you feast on Roscoe James' brand of romance. And don't forget the spicy wickedness that makes his stories Hot with a capital "H". Roscoe James (RJ to his adoring fans) writes romance with a delicious twist.
Born along the dusky red banks of the Ohio River, RJ grew up in a sleepy little town in southern Indiana where the sounds of cicadas and whippoorwills marked the arrival of summer and cruising the town square on a Friday night was a rite of passage. From law enforcement to the hallowed corporate halls of two Fortune 500s he draws from a deep well of life experience. With Spanish as his second language and the day-to-day of living in one of the largest cities of culture in the world, RJ infuses his stories with a raw reality that makes the characters memorable forever.
Most days you’ll find RJ sitting at his desk overlooking one of the concrete jungle’s lush city parks trying to dream up new ways to captivate and titillate your imagination ... in the most wicked way possible, of course.