Strangers in the Night

by Ines Saint

  “But what about your mom? You must’ve told her. Will she announce it on She Said, She Said?”

  “I haven’t told her, and I won’t. I’m not going to tempt her with info and then tell her she can’t use it.”

  “I knew you were nice. I’m rarely wrong about people!” Keila grabbed his hand and squeezed it, relieved.

  “Well, about that,” he squeezed her hand back. “After the article came out, someone came forward saying they had other, er, interesting pictures. They sent me and other media outlets sample pictures today, probably hoping to get us to bid on the lot, and that’s when I decided to come here. Because I like you and I think you deserve fair warning.”

  Pete reached into his coat and brought out a snazzy cell phone, and as he flipped through it, Keila braced herself for a clearer picture of them at the house or something equally damning. But when Pete finally showed her the image, there was absolutely no way to prepare for what confronted her. Her breath completely left her lungs.

  It was a perfectly clear picture of Julia Hamilton and Jake, walking up the pier and toward the river, his hand behind her waist. He was smiling and gesturing with the other hand, the century-old house Keila had just gotten back from in the background. The next picture was one of him and another elegant looking woman walking out of the house.

  She tried to catch a breath. He’d said he’d never brought another woman to that house. When she was finally able to breathe, she felt dizzy. He’d lied to her.

  “Jake and Julia have been linked in the past. Some think she’s been waiting on the sidelines for him while he sows his wild oats, so to speak. I’m sorry, Keila, but I thought I should give you time to prepare. The pictures will be in the paper soon, adding credence to the whole … you know, to yesterday’s article.”

  “You mean the ‘Jake Kelly is a lying, womanizing man-whore who shacks up with gullible, simple-minded women in his river love shack’ article?” she half-exhaled, half-spat out.

  A few minutes later, feeling emotionally frazzled, Keila walked onto the bus and headed toward her first performance with Second City Symphony, trying hard to exchange one pure and elemental feeling for another.

  Yes, she was deeply hurt, but her longest held dream was about to come true. Filtering her emotions wasn’t easy. Her feelings settled and each sentiment took a place in her heart.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Feeling jittery, Keila practiced breathing exercises on the darkened stage behind the curtains when Julia, of all people, came up to her. Wearing a reserved smile, she said, “I just wanted to wish you every success tonight, Keila.”

  Keila responded with a sincere thank you, but was at a loss as to how to view Julia. Every time they’d spoken, the delicate, pretty young woman seemed reticent. But she now also viewed Julia in the context of Jake, and she couldn’t help but think that Julia seemed just the type to wait in the wings for him.

  Thoughtful, her eyes followed Julia through a small opening where the scarlet velvet side curtains met. Keila absentmindedly watched as Julia’s parents hugged her. Then, her parents parted and Keila’s breath hitched. Jake was there, hugging Julia as well. Stormy thoughts took over and Keila tried to chase them away, but the questions refused to scatter. Jake knew Keila was part of Second City Symphony, so why would he attend a performance with Julia’s family? Could he be that insensitive?

  Keila quickly closed her eyes and began to go through every breathing and relaxation exercise she’d ever learned. Grasping at something positive to think about, to take her mind off what could potentially ruin her performance, she focused on the one thing she knew would make her play her best despite all she was feeling; her father.

  As she breathed, she let memories of him wash over her, knowing she could play powerfully by just imagining him there. She swallowed hard, knowing how proud he would be. When she opened her eyes, she pictured him sitting front and center, wearing his old, good suit and tie, smiling wide, more excited than she. Keila wiped at a tear with her sleeve, knowing he was with her, sharing in both her triumph and sorrow.

  When she looked around again, the entire orchestra was seated. It was time.

  As the curtains went up, a memory of her standing on her father’s feet as he taught her to dance came to her, and she smiled, remembering what unconditional love and trust felt like. When she began to play, in her mind, she and her father were waltzing in their kitchen to the orchestra’s music.

  • • •

  Jake watched from above as Keila played. Her hair swept back, he gazed at her downcast eyes and the soft set of her mouth, something like nostalgia surrounding her, as lost in the music as she ever was. He was beset by the need to pull her in close and tell her how talented she was, and, surprisingly, how proud he felt.

  When they announced the intermission, she suddenly looked up at him directly, and her expression was so cold, so disapproving, that he felt all warmth within disappear. He’d never seen her look like that. She wasn’t happy to see him; that much was clear. They’d decided to stay away from each other, and, for the first time in his life, he’d been the weaker person.

  Not about to take a hit from anyone, not even Keila, he looked back at her, his jaw set, his eyes just as cold.

  • • •

  The following morning, hell broke loose inside Jake’s campaign. Photos of him at his “secret vacation house” with both Julia and another attractive, older woman had surfaced that lent fire to reports that he owned a “love shack.”

  When Keila’s name came up as a possible candidate for his mystery woman, Tania provided her sister with a solid alibi.

  Cate, who’d been distant and strictly all-business with him, quickly got to work to get Julia and the other woman, an interior decorator who specialized in Victorian homes he’d once consulted, to issue statements denying intimate relationships. But the interior decorator could not be reached and even Cate seemed to doubt Jake’s story.

  Throughout the day, thoughts of what Keila must be thinking tormented him, but he didn’t know how to reach out to her. The night before she’d looked at him as if his presence was unwelcome and that had been before today’s breaking news.

  Now the fact that he’d been at the concert with Julia’s family only added fuel to past and present rumors of a relationship between him and Julia. Was that why Keila had been upset the night before? Did she know about the past rumors? Or was it because she suspected he’d gone to see her when they’d agreed not to see each other?

  Everything was messed up. His feelings for Keila had gone from a fundamental lust any male could understand to something more like a primal ache.

  All week long he’d found himself acting completely out of character. Instead of his usual, laser-like focus, he’d been staring off into space.

  He convinced himself it was his consciousness telling him he had to set things straight. So at the end of the endless, exhausting week, Jake impulsively grabbed a phonebook and looked up the number of the only person who could help him decide what to do.

  • • •

  Keila’s life was a whirlwind of events. Between concerts scheduled at different venues and ensemble engagements, her life was a blur of trains, buses, performances, and rehearsals.

  “Hey, how are you feeling about all the hoopla surrounding Jake Kelly?” Michelle gently greeted her one morning just before rehearsal.

  Keila took a sip of coffee before answering. “I don’t care. I told you, it was only my body that was infatuated. Besides, who has time to think about stuff like that?” Keila twirled a hand around her head, brushing off the question, but she could see both Michelle and Simone, who was standing behind her, didn’t quite believe her.

  She couldn’t blame them because she was half-lying and plain awful at it. For her, there was always time to feel. She was just busy enough to repress the feelings.

  Keila took another sip of coffee and Simone awkwardly handed her that morning’s paper and pointed to a picture. She gawked at a tiny image
of Mark, playing his saxophone on stage, staring up at her, the caption reading: Keila Diaz’s Boyfriend Breaks His Silence.

  Keila coughed up her coffee and quickly scanned over the so-called story. Mark had told a reporter that he and Keila had broken up over Jake shortly after Chicago SummerDance, that she had basically admitted to him that their break-up was because of her feelings for Jake, and that he was sure Keila was the mystery woman in the blurry Thanksgiving weekend photo.

  Keila felt a rush of hot anger but it dispelled seconds later when she read that Mark had insisted the interview take place at the club where he played, and that it happen after he’d played his set. The reporter felt his so-called story seemed more like a publicity ploy than a real scoop. Keila sighed in relief, but felt a pinch of tension that her name was still out there.

  However, she couldn’t care less what Mark thought. She’d actually run into Mark and Jessie in her neighborhood that very week, seeing as they were no longer in hiding, and it hadn’t bothered her one bit.

  Mark and Jessie couldn’t touch her now that she knew how it felt to be lied to by someone she’d given so much of herself to. Now she knew what real heartache was.

  It seemed unfair that Mark had been the one to get a story when Keila had secretly been waiting for the interior decorator to go on record. Part of her needed to hear a denial that matched Jake’s.

  “Um, we weren’t sure if you’d read it, but just in case, we thought it would be better if you got it from us than from some stranger on the street,” Simone explained, interrupting Keila’s scattered thoughts.

  Keila folded her friends into a quick hug and said, “Thanks, guys, and I’m sorry I seem out of it lately.”

  On Friday, Keila finally had the afternoon off. Robbie asked her to come down and help him at his dance studio and she was relieved to have something to do that didn’t involve thinking. In fact, there was nothing she wanted to do more than dance.

  The weather had varied greatly that first week of December, and that Friday in particular was brutal. Keila nearly froze her butt off during her short walk to Robbie’s studio. She entered, put her stuff down, and left her long trench coat on a moment longer as she walked around to get warm. The lone sound of her heeled boots clicking on the hardwood floors began to bother her and she finally stopped pacing, peeled her coat and gloves off, and began to wonder where Robbie was. She looked up at the mirrored front wall at the sound of the back door opening, expecting to see Robbie’s reflection.

  She was stunned when Jake walked into the room instead, his black leather-gloved hands fixing the collar of his long, elegant coat; he looked as remote and unfeeling as ever. He stopped and just watched her. For a long time, neither spoke.

  It took all Keila had to hide her emotions. Seeing him there so unexpectedly, his powerful blue eyes gazing at her in such a serious manner, his handsome face set in stone, all she could think about was how badly she wanted him to gather her in his arms, smile warmly down at her again, and promise her he cared about her and everything else was a lie.

  The yearning came from a place so deep within she had to look away. Completely overwhelmed, it took that inconvenient feeling at that inconvenient moment for her to figure out she was in love with him. She knew she was about to get hurt.

  It terrified her to know he had that power over her. Knowing she couldn’t tamp down her emotions, she focused hard on her anger; anger at herself for being so stupid, at Robbie for deceiving her, and at Jake for being so unemotional when he had to know she was hurting over the articles.

  “So, Robbie tricked me into coming here to meet you?” she broke the silence, her voice shaky.

  Jake remained impassive. “I needed to speak to you in person and thought he might be the one to help me out.”

  “Well, obviously you were right. I’m here. So speak.”

  “I wanted you to know that I didn’t lie to you. When I told you I’d never brought another woman to the house, what I’d meant was that I’d never stayed there with anyone. Julia’s an old friend and she only came to give me her opinion on it before I bought it, and the other woman was an interior decorator I’d hired.”

  Though Jake was saying everything she badly needed to hear, his voice was so smooth and unmoved that the words rang hollow. The more she watched Jake, the more Keila found strength to push back her feelings. As tempted as she was to believe him, his hard expression coupled with such a convenient explanation halted her.

  She watched him closely; her mind spinning with Cate’s admission, that Jake had said their weekend had been a whole lot of nothing, Tania’s warnings about logical ulterior motives, and her own past suspicions. She took a deep breath and said, “Don’t worry Jake, I’m not about to go the press with some sob story about how you betrayed me.”

  Jake’s eyes finally gained intensity. “That’s not why I’m here — ” He paused and looked down, shaking his head as if he regretted coming. “I don’t like leaving loose ends and I don’t like the idea of you thinking I tricked you into being with me, or anything along those lines, okay?”

  She was a loose end? “Right. Like you didn’t like the thought of me taking the L late at night, and didn’t like the thought of me crying over Mark and Jessie Thanksgiving weekend. How convenient for you that your conscience has a sweet spot for me. I’m sure the fact that it helped your campaign to be linked to me never crossed your mind now that you’re really behind in the polls,” she said, taking a few angry steps in his direction.

  “What?” Jake’s eyes flashed.

  “I guess you never counted on the rain making the pictures of us so blurry I was unrecognizable to the press, or on unexpected, clear pictures of you there with other women surfacing!” she shot back.

  “What are you accusing me of now, Keila?” Jake was looking down at her now, his eyes finally showing emotion.

  Keila didn’t back down. “That’s right. You like numbers. Would you like me to draw you a neat little chart with the convenient demographics so you understand that I’m not stupid and that I’m on to you?”

  “You don’t believe that!” Jake yelled.

  Robbie walked in then, and, if possible, glared at Keila even harder than Jake. “What the hell, Keila? This isn’t like you,” he began, but he was interrupted by Jake.

  “No, it’s exactly like her,” Jake said, standing straight. “She never tries to get to the bottom of anything — she just takes whatever surface excuse suits her best and runs with it.”

  “Really, Jake? I’ve lost count of the times you’ve accused me of being overly emotional and now you’re implying I run away from my feelings? And you, who couldn’t even admit you remembered me, who nearly had a stroke over the accidental use of the word forever, and who just called me a loose end to my face, you’re the one gets to the bottom of things?” Keila demanded.

  Jake’s face turned to granite once more. He looked at her one last time, turned and walked away.

  Robbie walked toward Keila, his face full of reproach. “Why couldn’t you at least hear him out? Why are you sabotaging yourself this way?”

  Keila couldn’t believe Robbie’s gall. First he’d deceived her and now he had the nerve to look upset with her. “You know, I hope someone took a clear picture of Jake walking out of here so you can be declared his new lover. I’m sure it’ll do wonders for his campaign and your dance studio.”

  Robbie just shook his head at her, before wrapping her in his arms and saying, “And I just hope it was Tania and not me who messed you up so badly.”

  Keila knew she had messed herself up all on her own, wanting so badly to outwit love and the anguish it seemed to inflict on those who fell hard and felt deeply.

  “What am I supposed to do, Robbie? Just believe him? How stupid would I have to be to let myself believe in him when so many warning signs are there? You heard what Cate said. The weekend with me meant nothing to him.”

  “Maybe Cate accidentally took it out of context? I mean, why else would he be
here if he didn’t care?”

  “Because I’m a loose end. And don’t tell me I’m taking that out of context, too. That’s the excuse every spin doctor out there puts out, even I know that. And I believe coming here is called damage control.”

  Robbie sighed. “Okay, I see what you mean, but you should still try to keep an open mind.”

  It was Keila’s turn to sigh. None of this should be happening. She should be in ecstasy over her career, without having that happiness interspersed with feeling all twisted up inside over some man.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Though his co-workers and friends would never have guessed it from watching his collected demeanor and hectic schedule, Jake wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so down and out, and he was relying on the people around him to keep him busy.

  He’d been attending fundraisers for the youth centers and acquiring new equipment for the kids. He was also campaigning as hard as ever, hitting the pavement in every community, going to every meeting, and just trying to make people see he was addressing their concerns about life in their great city.

  With only a few weeks to go before Christmas, Mike Summers played up his committed, family man bit to a nauseating degree and his team likened Jake’s lack of commitment in his personal life to a lack of commitment in general.

  Whether they’d planned on voting for him or not, the people of Chicago had chosen their sides: those who’d decided to either believe Jake or figure his personal life didn’t matter one way or another, and those who’d decided to trust the muck and believe it did matter. To the latter, he was just like his father; a careless playboy, out of touch with the real world. Depending on which poll voters chose to believe, Jake was now down by at least nine percent. It seemed that only the kids at the youth center believed in him at this point, and they were too young to vote.