by J. L. Paul
“But it’s loud, right?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s loud.” A smile poked at my lips.
“Well,” he sighed, taking a drink. “I’ve already committed and I need to stay in George’s good graces if this merger is to happen. I guess I’ll just have to bear with it.”
Nodding, I downed my wine and ordered another.
***
Brad frowned when I opened the door the following evening. I let him in, wondering what more could make this night even tenser than it promised to be.
“Something the matter?” I asked as he strode into the living room.
Spinning on his heel, his eyes roved my body. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
I glanced at the pink t-shirt I’d donned after my shower. It was plain but clean and free of wrinkles. And it topped my best pair of jeans.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I asked as I scanned his attire. He was dressed in a navy polo shirt and pressed khakis. “It is a rock concert.”
“I suppose,” he said as a frown tugged at his lips and lines furrowed his brow. “But do you have to wear your hair like that?”
Sighing, I slipped out the band that was holding my hair in a neat ponytail. “Let me go run a brush through it.”
I rushed to the bathroom and ran a hairbrush through my hair. In my nervousness, I’d forgotten how much he hated seeing woman over the age of adolescence wearing their hair in a ponytail.
I studied my appearance once more before leaving the room. My hair wasn’t as long as it used to be but it was still as blonde. I wasn’t much for makeup and since it was just a concert and not a formal event, I’d decided to leave my skin bare. My green eyes were shining out of nervousness and fear but I hoped Brad would credit it to a night out – nothing more.
When I returned to the living room, Brad was standing at the window, gazing out at the darkening sky.
“Are you ready?” I asked as a swarm of bees zoomed around my stomach.
“Yes,” he said, nodding his approval at my hair. “You’d better take a jacket.”
After retrieving a jacket from the coat closet, I followed him out the door and to his car. The drive to Chicago usually took about an hour or less, depending on traffic, but he seemed to be in a hurry.
“We’re meeting Kevin and Jenny at a pub close to the venue for a quick dinner,” he said, eyes on the road. “They suggested the place so I’m not too sure what sort of food we’ll be eating.”
I hid a smile as I glanced out my window. Brad hated ‘quick dinners’ when we went out, opting to stretch a meal out to enjoy it. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d gone anywhere for a burger and fries.
Traffic wasn’t horrendous and we found the pub easily. Brad nodded toward a booth in the back where a young, attractive couple sat, perusing menus while sipping glasses of beer.
“Hello again, Kevin,” Brad said.
Kevin stood to shake Brad’s hand with a broad smile. He was older than me, but not by much, and very good looking. His sandy hair was cut short and neat, his hazel eyes sparkling. He was as tall as Brad but had a more relaxed stance.
“Hello, Brad,” Kevin smiled. He gestured toward the pretty girl next to him. “This is my wife, Jenny.”
Jenny shook hands as Kevin introduced us. She had curly, brown hair and big brown eyes. Slim and athletic, she was dressed similar to me but exuded excitement.
As soon as we sat, the waitress scurried over to take our order. Once that was finished, Jenny bounced in her seat, reminding me of a teenager about to meet her boy band crush.
“I love Controlled Environment,” she said. “I can’t believe Kevin’s uncle was able to get tickets. I tried but couldn’t get any.”
“I’ve heard that the tickets were difficult to get,” I said, hoping that she wouldn’t spend the entire time talking about the band. I didn’t want to reveal anything whatsoever to give anyone the idea that I knew anything about Controlled Environment.
Shooting Brad a glance from the corner of my eye, I was relieved to see that he was discussing business with Kevin. Hopefully, he would be so engrossed in his conversation that he would pay no attention to me and Jenny. I had a feeling that she wasn’t going to settle with mundane talk.
“So, how long have you and Kevin been married?” I asked.
“Nearly two years,” she said. “How about you and Brad? You’re engaged, right?”
“Yes,” I said, struggling to produce a smile. “We’ve been engaged for about two months.”
“Oh, that is exciting,” she said. Her face softened when her eyes darted to her husband. My stomach flipped. “Have you picked a date yet?”
I shook my head. “No, not yet. We’ve both been so busy that it’s hard to nail down a good time.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m the activities director at the Children’s Center in Eastville,” I said. “It’s a preschool, kindergarten, and child care center.”
“That’s sounds so nice,” she said. “I love children. Kevin and I have been talking about having a child soon. But he wants me to quit my job when we do have a baby and I’m not sure if I want to do that.”
“What do you do?” I asked, glancing at Brad. He was still deeply immersed in his discussion with Kevin.
“I work part time at a bank. I’m a teller,” she said. “It doesn’t sound like much but I like it. Kevin works in George’s law firm – but Brad probably told you that, right?”
I couldn’t remember him mentioning it but I nodded anyway. I didn’t want her to think Brad rude.
Our food arrived and conversation slowed as we ate. Brad remained composed but I knew him well enough to tell that he was not enjoying his grilled chicken sandwich. His shoulders were stiff, his face tight, and when he spoke, it was in clipped sentences.
We finished our meal, paid our tab, and headed down the street to the venue. My nerves had calmed somewhat at the pub where I was able to pretend that I was enjoying dinner with friends.
But now, my heart was thrumming like cello strings. The bit of chicken salad that I’d managed to eat was now churning in my stomach. My nerves twitched and shook enough that I put on my jacket just so I could hide my trembling hands.
A line had formed but the doors were already open, allowing the crowd to stream inside. Brad accepted our tickets from Kevin and I was glad. I didn’t want to hold out a ticket and have Brad see it shake like a leaf in a storm.
At least our seats were in the balcony – front row of course. Irony certainly has a sense of humor.
After figuring out the seating order – me, Jenny, Kevin, and Brad (Brad suggesting the ladies sit together) – the men left to get drinks. Jenny fidgeted in her seat, her eyes on the huge red curtain blocking the stage. I couldn’t look – didn’t want to.
“I can’t wait for the show to start,” she said, elation flashing across her face. “There’s no opening band, either, since it’s a promotional tour.”
“Oh, good,” I said, mustering some enthusiasm. I wasn’t eager for the heartache to rear its ugly head but I couldn’t deny that I did want to see him. I just wanted to make sure he was okay.
Brad and Kevin returned with our drinks and took their seats. Only moments later, the house lights went off and the anticipation level skyrocketed.
So did my heart rate.
Lights flashed while a guitar screamed. The audience followed suit, shrieking and clapping and whistling.
I downed my beer, slopping a bit of foam on my shirt, and stood with the rest of the crowd. Slowly, the curtain began to rise as a drum beat joined the guitar. My heart flipped as I realized that I’d get to see Nick, Ronnie, and Matt, too.
Then, the spotlight hit the stage as the band started playing the song I’d once accused Jake of being pornographic.
Beside me, Jenny screamed as she jumped up and down, dancing to the music. I shot my eyes at Brad in time to see his wide eyes and slack jaw. He met my eyes and held up his cup. I nodded and
giggled as he escaped the noise and nearly ran to the concession stand.
Finally, I allowed my eyes to fall on Jake. Although I was too far away to see any details, every movement was achingly familiar. My heart twisted in an effort to free itself from my body and run to him. My breath came hard and heavy.
I missed him.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes as I stared at the stage, watching as he placed his mouth so close to the microphone as he belted out the lyrics in that sexy, raspy voice. The women in the place went nuts, bringing about old feelings of jealousy. But he wasn’t mine – not anymore.
The song finished as Brad returned with drinks. He passed them down before starting to take his seat. I shook my head, halting his actions, as I nodded at the crowd around them. A flash of irritation crossed his face as it occurred to him that he was going to have to stand.
As the concert plunged forward, I had to agree with the magazine article: The new stuff was more mature than the older stuff. My shoulders relaxed as I enjoyed the show, swimming in the amazing music.
Then it happened.
The music slowed as the band played the song Jake had written about the night we’d met. I sipped my beer, hoping that each swallow would push the tears back. I managed to get through the song when another started, a new one, one about lost love and being sorry and wishing harsh words could be taken back. It was like a love letter. And I had no doubt whatsoever that it was for me.
I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t sit there and pretend to be fine. The tears weren’t going to cooperate for much longer. I had to get away.
“Are you okay?” Jenny shouted in my ear. I couldn’t even shake my head. She grabbed my hand and pushed past Kevin and Brad, telling them we were going to the bathroom.
Once we made it to the ladies room, I released her hand and gripped the sink. Only a few women were in there but I wished they’d all leave.
“Are you okay, Isabella?” Jenny asked, her brown eyes filled with concern.
“Yeah. Thanks,” I said as I splashed water on my face and blotted it dry with a paper towel.
“That song reminds you of an old boyfriend, huh?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “It does.”
“Does Brad know about this old flame?”
“No, and I’d appreciate if you didn’t mention this,” I said, trying not to beg.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, offering me a quick hug. “Men don’t need to know everything about us. And it’s an old boyfriend, nothing he has to worry about.”
She didn’t know how right she was.
“Thanks, Jenny,” I said, feeling as if I finally had a friend again.
“Are you ready to go back? I think the show is about over.”
I nodded and followed her back to the seats. Brad had retrieved another round of drinks so I had a fresh one waiting for me.
The show ended about twenty minutes later, thankfully. We shuffled into the crowd, following the flow to the lower level, gradually taking me to my sweet escape.
But that irony with the sense of humor has a good friend – bad luck.
“So, Jenny had a birthday last week,” Kevin said when we made it to the lobby. With a smug grin on his face, he reached into his back pocket to produce an envelope. My heart stopped, ready to bolt.
I prayed it was anything but what I thought it was.
My prayers were in vain.
“Uncle George was lucky enough to hook me up with these,” he said, pulling four passes out of the envelope.
Jenny shrieked in delight as Brad shot a questioning look my way. I pretended not to see it as I watched Kevin hand Jenny the Meet and Greet Pass.
My brain did double time trying to think of an excuse not to stick around, but came up blank. Everything that even seemed like a possible explanation would easily be shot down by Brad. And he would in no way want to offend or insult George Tharpe’s nephew.
I had one last hope, though. I knew, from hanging out with the band all those years ago, that they couldn’t always meet with everyone who had a pass. All I could do was hang onto that thread of possibility that we’d be near the end of the line and not able to get backstage. Guilt hit me as I knew Jenny would be disappointed, but I’d make it up to her in some anonymous way. I just couldn’t be that close to Jake again.
As we stood in the waiting area, my heart relaxed with every minute that passed. Certainly we wouldn’t make it as there were quite a few people in front of us.
Poor Jenny kept looking at the door, waiting for our turn. I tried not to look at her.
“So, Isabella,” she said, making small talk. “Your name is so pretty. Do people call you anything for short?”
“Well, my dad calls me Belle,” I explained. “But my friends usually call me Bella or … “
“Iz? Oh my goodness! Is that really you?”
Three
My heart flew to my throat, dancing at the sound of the voice. I turned, slowly, to come face to face with a dark haired beauty.
“Greta!” I exclaimed as she hurried to embrace me.
“It’s so good to see you again,” she said, drawing back to grin at my face. Her smile faltered when she noticed the curious group with me. “Um, have you seen anyone, um, yet?”
I shook my head, doing my best to plead with my eyes. I didn’t want to see anyone.
“Well, you don’t have to stand here,” she said, oblivious to my distress. “I’ll take you back.”
Jenny concealed a shriek – quivering instead. There was no way out of it this time. Sucking in a breath, I followed her around the crowd and to the door.
“Who are your friends?” she asked as she used a keycard to unlock the door.
“This is Kevin and Jenny Tharpe,” I said, pointing over my shoulder. Brad moved closer to my side. “And this is my fiancé, Brad Stanich.”
Greta glanced over her shoulder, lifting a brow. “Oh, you’re engaged. Congratulations.”
Her voice held no warmth or sincerity whatsoever but I didn’t think that Brad noticed. He was too busy whispering in my ear.
“Who is this woman?” he asked, clutching my arm and slowing, allowing Kevin and Jenny to move in front of us.
“Greta,” I said. “I knew her when I was in high school.”
We walked through another door and found ourselves in a long, dimly lit hall. Voices filtered toward us from some room that must have been at the end of the hall. My heart picked up an extra beat or two.
“Hey, idiots,” Greta called, startling me. “Look what I found.”
I held my breath, totally aware of Brad’s narrowed eyes on me.
“It better be food, Greta, I’m starved.”
I knew that voice.
Greta reached through Kevin and Jenny to yank me forward, presenting me like a medal to an athlete.
“Holy hell, it’s Iz!” Ronnie Stone shouted as he strode forward to wrap me in a hug that lifted me off my feet. My head spun as my heart burst with joy. As soon as he set me down, another pair of arms wound around me in an affectionate embrace. Turning in those arms, my heart thrilled to see Matt Wenslow.
“How are you, Iz?” he asked.
“Great, Matt, and you?”
“Pretty good,” he said with a familiar smile that made my heart ache.
I was suddenly aware of Brad behind me – and not by any noise or words. Tension, like thick fog, rolled off of him, enveloping me.
“Oh, these are my friends,” I said, pointing over my shoulder. “Kevin and Jenny Tharpe. And my fiancé, Brad Stanich.”
Ronnie and Matt exchanged a quick glance before reaching past me to shake hands with everyone. Greta rolled to the balls of her feet, smiling as she clutched an electronic tablet.
“Have you seen, um, anyone else yet?” Matt asked.
I shook my head, bile blazing in my throat.
“Can you two take her?” Greta asked. “I have to find out where the food is.”
“You do that, Greta,” Ronnie sa
id, taking me by the arm. “We’ll take Iz.”
Stumbling, I had no choice but to follow. The energy behind me was a swirling mixture; part excitement and part tense anger. This would not be fun.
Ignoring the irritated little noises emitting from Brad’s mouth, I plodded after Ronnie and Matt, trying not to think about facing Jake again.
But there he was.
The hall ended at a spacious room with a buffet waiting for food, several tables, and quite a few people milling about, congratulating each other on a great show.
I was sure that I’d recognize a few if I took a second to look at them, but my eyes were more interested in the man sitting at a far table, a pretty blonde wrapped around his arm.
Sucking in a breath, I concentrated on Nick Collins, sitting atop the table, drumming on the back of a chair. He hadn’t changed much and just the sight of him brought back feelings of comfort and warmth. How I’d leaned on him during those dark days.
“Hey, check this out!” Ronnie shouted, shoving me in front of him.
Nick’s jaw fell as his drumsticks clattered to the floor. He hopped off the table and ran, pulling me to his chest. Closing my eyes, I inhaled and the scent retrieved memories like a home movie.
“I’ve missed you, Iz,” he whispered, giving me an extra squeeze. Grinning, he released me, his green eyes shining. “How are you?”
“Fine,” I said, focusing on his face and not the man walking around the table. “How about you? You guys sounded great.”
Before he could answer, Jake appeared next to him, arms crossed over his chest, ugly smirk on his lips.
“Well, what do you know – Iz has returned.”
My heart fell to my feet. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected but it wasn’t this.
“How are you, Jake?” I asked, searching his face. He was a bit skinnier than I remembered and his face was etched with a couple of lines, but he still looked beautiful to me.
His smirk softened as he took me in his arms. The dam in my heart, holding back my emotions, threatened to break but luckily it was made of strong stuff. It held.
