She had some trouble with the dancing in the show, although only her own troupe were aware. Even mildly drunk, she was a consummate pro. Her balance was just a bit wonky on some moves. Lately, it took a lot of the hard stuff to even get her drunk. Sometimes she flung the empty bottle across the room in frustration and just that evening she narrowly missed Heidi, her hairdresser, when the long legged ebony-skinned woman entered Jessie’s personal dressing room.
Josh had a hard time staying focused on the show until Jessie sang his ballad. There was no way the audience would let her go without singing it. The hopeful tune was still a Top Forty hit, hanging on to Number One for months. Sue-Lyn argued later that it was hypocritical of Jessie to sing it, for it was a tale of optimism and forgiveness and of moving on even when you don’t think there is anything left of yourself worth loving. Jessie was forced to go somewhere really deep inside herself to get through it. Accompanied first by Christian’s expert floating fingers on the piano, and then by an enchanting illuminated children’s choir, the ballad was sung from a wooden stool in the center of the stage. All those small faces - Jessie prayed none of them were ever sexually abused during their lifetime. But the odds were against that. The choir numbered twenty strong. She ached for more Jim Beam during the singing of that song, which garnered her an immediate standing ovation. She didn’t smile. She knew that the man she loved most as well as the man she absolutely and wholly despised but whose frailty was leaking and could be seen, ever so slightly, were both swallowed up in the darkness out there somewhere. Two ends of the love spectrum. And the song itself - well, it left an ache in her heart too big for words. A standing ovation was a simple Band-Aid on a soldier who’d been mercilessly torn apart by an IED.
Watching her, Josh shoved a fist into his mouth and bit his knuckles until they bled. He didn’t dare look away. Somewhere in the far reaches of his mind, the sad girl on the stage was still his. He didn’t want to miss a second of one of her songs. It disturbed him deeply to see her climb off the wooden stool after giving one of the most serenely beautiful, melancholic, spiritual performances of her life, then almost stumble and stand there so small and vulnerable as the entire arena of ten thousand adoring fans rose and shouted her name up to the rafters. She reminded him of the frightened boy singing “Oh Holy Night” that past Christmas, alone and afraid, trembling. He wished he had the guts to go up on that stage with her, pull her close, and take away her fear and loneliness.
Eventually Jessie rallied and finished the concert with a rousing encore that left both her and Josh in more hopeful spirits. The people of Vancouver were joyous that night. They were mighty proud of their Jessie, and the SkyTrain soon filled with jubilant fans travelling home with the gift of wings – music - overflowing from their hearts and souls.
After the concert, the usual gang gathered around the refreshment table in the backstage room set aside for meetings with the press, contest winners and wealthy patrons. Everyone from Drifters was invited to the after party, cast and crew. The western had quickly become the hottest drama on television, selling in sixty-four countries. There was something prestigious about having the team at Jessie’s concert, according to Dee and her publicist.
Deuce sauntered in casually, attaching himself to the Downtown Eastside crowd. He would have been highly entertained to know that one of the people he spoke to was Arnie, the man who supplied Jessie with the gun she one day planned to pull on her tormentor. Yet, his disguise kept him under the radar of Charles and Matt, along with Charlie, who were all carefully watching the room. Although their vigilance had faded somewhat over the summer, none felt entirely secure with the notion that Jessie sank into what was obviously some deep depression simply because fans persecuted Josh.
In fact, all three men as well as Deuce kept a close eye on Josh. The actor was oblivious to the fact that he was being watched, though. He only had eyes for Jessie, and missed most of Maggie and Sue-Lyn’s gossip as a result.
Deuce could feel a raging temper building within. Unbeknownst to Jessie, who kept her distance from him as she indulged in more and more Jim Beam, the little pulse at the side of his temple that generally alarmed her to his rising blood pressure was pounding away, and increasing in intensity. The closer she got to Josh, the worse the throbbing vein agonized him.
She hadn’t intended to talk to her Drifters friends, but she knew she and Josh were both safe in the company of not only Matt and his team, but also in the proximity of Arnie and the Downtown Eastside friends she’d invited. Besides, she’d been away for some of the summer and had been attentive to Deuce when they were both in the city together. And she was somewhat drunk. She longed to see her old friends and to hear the new storylines for the third season of Drifters. As the evening threatened to draw to a close, Jessie, her latest glass of the Kentucky bourbon gripped tightly in white knuckles, inched through crowds of well-wishers until she was near enough Maggie and Sue-Lyn to touch Maggie’s arm and whisper a subdued hello. Her old friend whipped around and regarded Jessie carefully.
“You’ve gotten skinny,” Maggie said, before she gave her a cautious hug.
“Skinni-er,” added Sue-Lyn, who was a little more ardent in her hugging.
Jessie smiled shyly back at them and focused on standing upright. A dark-skinned arm swooped her up in a big bear hug and she couldn’t keep from squealing happily.
“Carter!” she protested cheekily, and then punched him in the arm. “Cute as ever. Got a girl these days? Where’s Ashley?”
“Many,” he replied, grinning. “One for each day of the week. Ashley’s in the States for a while and we decided not to try the long distance thing.”
“Well,” she smiled. “One for every day. That’s the way to do it, my friend.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Stephen step forward. Her eyes glistened when he held her and the subdued scent of goat’s milk soap filled her nostrils. She breathed him in. “Ahhh. You smell like my old friend Stephen.”
Holding her at arm’s length, Steve frowned at her. “Maybe you should come around to ROAM once in a while. Then you wouldn’t be calling me an old friend.”
“And you can smell him all you want!” Sophie chuckled and shoved her man out of the way. “Jessie. It’s good to see you.” The women shared a gentle hug. They both had a wet sheen evident in their eyes, reflecting brightly in the overhead lights. Maggie, Sue-Lyn, Carter and Stephen also fought threatening heady emotions. The feelings were real. They all missed her, and she ached to be with them.
She could sense Josh’s presence nearby but she fought the nerve to look at him. Now, Sophie took a deep breath and eyed her carefully, then gave her hands a gentle pressure as if to ask Jessie if she were ready. Then Sophie stepped aside.
He stood there nervously, leaning on one foot with his ankle turned up and his hands in his pockets, as he often did, shyly, and Jessie felt her world start to spin. He was so damned adorable - black jeans, camel fringed jacket, white button up shirt, black cowboy hat and - was it? Around his neck, the leather thong she’d given him for Christmas, the J pendant tickling the spot at the base of his neck that she once loved to kiss. The layered chestnut hair was longer, just brushing his collarbone, and she reached out and touched it with the fingertips of her left hand. Then she turned her hand over and, fueled by drink and a cocky adrenaline rush from the show, ran her fingers through his hair and let her fingertips touch his slightly bristly cheek. She looked up and forced a half-smile, and then she realized that as she touched him he’d reached out and nudged her elbow as if to guide her towards him. Jessie followed where the air took her, and before she knew it she was in his arms and was nuzzling his neck with her lips, whispering his name so that it tickled him. Josh rewarded her with a hesitant smile.
They stayed that way much longer than they should have, and it was as if the air was suddenly sucked out of the room, for it became hushed as people turned and stared. There were still rumors floating around about their break-up and, although most people sneered
it off as a relationship based on lust, there were others who had genuinely thought they cared about each other. Then there were those from Dee’s corner, who believed that it was Josh who left the nasty bruise on her cheek and lip earlier in the summer.
Watching them, Dee bristled; Charlie ached; Matt went on high alert; Charles tensed; Maggie, Sue-Lyn, Carter, Stephen and Sophie melted; Arnie wondered; and Deuce went-off-the-rails. He left the party and texted Jessie before he got to the little boys’ room.
Fuckin bitch u have one hr
Jessie didn’t get the message until she got back to her dressing room an hour later. By then she had laughed a little with her old friends, relaxing even more after noticing that Deuce was no longer present. She stood by Josh’s side, leaning into him with her left hand on his belly, her baby finger hooked into his wide black leather belt, barely visible under his jacket. Her right hand was clasped firmly in his, and occasionally she allowed her head to rest against his shoulder. Partly her stance was because she was really quite drunk, but mostly she was so long gone from caring anymore about anything other than Josh that she couldn’t bring herself to leave his side. She just kept telling herself it was only for a minute, that she’d behaved for Deuce, done what he asked of her. McCall was gone from the after party anyway so wasn’t it okay to be with Josh just for a short time?
They stood there as a group and chatted together. Stephen held court as always, telling them jokes and stories while Josh tentatively placed his arm around Jessie’s shoulders and then kept it there. Josh, Maggie and Sue-Lyn were hesitant around Jessie at first. After all, her departure from the show and seemingly from their lives was so sudden and cavalier. Drifters’ ratings would drop dramatically without her presence as Kate. But underneath their concern for the show and their own hurts was an intuitive ever-present worry, too. So they warmed slowly to her and swapped tales and plans for the new shooting season, and cautiously asked her if she would consider doing a few guest appearances. Jessie tuned out a few times as the others chatted, and turned her nose into Josh’s neck, quietly nestling into him and inhaling deeply. He turned towards her and whispered her name, ignoring the fact that it seemed the whole room was watching them. She giggled and reached up and took his hat off his head and placed it on her own.
“You are a vision,” he murmured, his eyes alight for the first time in months.
“Vi-shun of what?” she asked, slurring, tipping the hat forward so that she had to look up in order to let him see her blue eyes.
He gazed appraisingly at Jessie’s rather dangerously short silk strapless ivory dress with gold jewels edging the bust, and accompanying beige stiletto heels.
“Like in my dreams.”
“I’m not your dream. I’m your nightmare,” she pouted, her eyes clouding over as she snickered drunkenly and then clumsily placed the hat back on his head.
He adjusted the hat and then wrapped a second arm lightly around his old girl. Jessie stood there looking up at him and trying to smile, but then the Jim Beam felt like it was wearing off and the effort was suddenly too much. But she had one last thing to murmur duskily to him before she would have to pumpkin.
“Run away with me.”
He leaned his head back so as to see her better. His arms stayed where they were, so she couldn’t get away.
This time it was barely a whisper, and a gentle graze of manicured fingertips accompanied it-on his chin, and then brushing across his inviting lips.
“Run – away – with – me.”
Her curls were starting to droop and Jessie’s eyes were bloodshot. She was too thin, although still muscular and fit, and there were bluish circles underneath her eyes, accented by smudged mascara. Josh thought she’d never looked more beautiful standing there leaning into him, staring up at him, pleading with him. For that was what it seemed she was doing - pleading. In the year and then some to come, he would remember that moment, that look, every second of the day. It would be up there with her begging him to promise not to forget that she would love him always and forever, no matter what. At that moment in that room with the dim lighting and the crowd sounds floating around them yet not entering their secret bubble, Josh’s knees almost gave way and he heard his heart screaming yes yes yes while his mind ruined the party with no no no.
“Jessie…,” was all he could manage to utter, and then Dee was there pulling her away from him, and he couldn’t look away, nor could Jessie.
Then finally Jessie dropped her gaze down to the high beige heels, and then up to her man one last time, and now the old mask was back and her eyes were dead again, and Josh found himself wishing he was a mind-reader, but he was only a mere mortal and so he let her go yet again. She walked away with her head down, weaving a little, the gorgeous dress emitting a soft floating shushing around her hips as she moved, and although Josh knew she was desperately inebriated, he didn’t care. She was Jessie, and she had once again been his for just the last hour, and that was all that mattered.
Sue-Lyn hooked his arm in hers and the little group left right away, for once Jessie departed their company it seemed as if the lights had gone out, even though the party was ending and the arena staff had turned the overhead lights on so that indeed it was brighter than ever.
***
In her dressing room Jessie threw on jeans, a blue v-neck T-shirt, and her favorite homey brown cowboy boots, and then she grabbed her phone. She almost fell onto the spacious couch when she spied Deuce’s text.
Oh, shit.
It was already past the hour since the terse message had made its way through cyberspace and landed angrily on her iPhone.
Fuck.
She was shaking before she had her bag packed, and she cursed at Matt when she ran into him outside in the hallway. He was expecting to drive her home.
Jessie pushed him aside with an angry arm. Charles and Dee had already said goodnight. Besides a few straggly dancers and some venue staff, they were alone.
He reached gently for her arm. “C’mon, girl,” he said. “You can sleep in the car.”
Shaking him off, Jessie stepped drunkenly back and glared at Matt.
“Fuck you, Matt. I’m taking the Mustang.”
Matt was amazed. This was not the Jessie he knew and loved. He had spent time with her over the summer, mostly on the shows she did here and there, and this imposter broke his heart. She was often distant and quiet, yes, but rarely mean and spiteful. Yet, she was pretty drunk.
He put his foot down. “Jessie.” His voice was raised. Firm. “I am driving you home. No question.”
She would have let him but she was angry, late (and thus terrified) to meet Deuce, and she couldn’t sneak out with her SUV when she got home, because Matt or one of his minions would be sticking around and guarding her building overnight. She tried to get away from Matt, but he grabbed her again.
“Jessie! You’re not driving! Look, I’ll get the Mustang to you so you have it for the morning, okay?”
“You’re hurting me,” she whined, stumbling as she tried to elude his grasp.
He let go and she started to back away.
“I have somewhere I have to be, Matt,” she said, staggering. “I’ll take the fucking SkyTrain, okay?”
“Jesus, Jessie, you just did a show for ten thousand fans. You’re NOT taking the fucking SkyTrain.” He reached for his cell.
“Who’re you calling?”
“I’m calling Charles, who the hell do you think I’m calling?”
Wow, she thought in a detached sort of way. I’ve never known Matt to be so angry. It’s kind of cute.
She threw up her hands. “Okay, I give! I give, Matt.”
Deuce was going to skin her alive.
She was complacent after that, obedient and quiet. Matt drove her home in the Audi, and she let him watch her disappear into the elevator. She started to text Deuce, hoping he would let her off for that one night if she explained that she was being closely watched. As she stepped off the elevator into her private foy
er, looking down to complete the text that was rather drunkenly misspelled, a shadow stepped in front, startling her. The phone clattered to the floor.
It was Deuce – rabid, pissed, volatile.
“H-how did you get up here?” she asked, her heart threatening to explode from fear.
He held up her keycard. “Your building’s door crony is an idiot. I sent him on a wild goose chase for an old lady I paid off to be lost. And you shouldn’t drink so much. You let your fucking spare door key fall out of your purse at my place.”
Fall out, bullshit, she thought. She’d been looking for that spare keycard. He had obviously gone through her purse and taken it.
She growled, her eyes narrowing. “You shouldn’t have come here, Deuce the fuck McCall. They’re watching me like a hawk this weekend. One of these days they’ll grab you and sssuck the life out of you the way you’ve sssucked the life out of me.”
His hand came from nowhere, and the blunt force of it knocked her brutally to the floor. He’d hit her on the cheek again. She tasted blood on her lip, and put her hand over the sting to try to cool it.
“Fuck, Deuce!” she cried. “I have a show tomorrow.”
“You should have thought of that before you mind-fucked me at the show tonight, girl.”
She clamored to her feet and wobbled there. “What do you mean, Deuce, I didn’t do anything wrong…”
He hit her again, and then grabbed Jessie by the hair and hauled her into the bedroom and threw her against the floor-to-ceiling window. Silently, she wished it would smash into a zillion pieces so she could hurl her aching body to the streets far below. She was now close enough to see the vein on Deuce’s forehead throbbing.
Promises Page 19
