What is it? What is my heart trying to tell me?
I so rarely listen to what my heart has to say.
Before I can dig around for the words, another police officer walks up to us.
“Ma’am, it’s nearly morning. Would you like a ride home?” the cop asks.
“Oh, no thank you. I’m already going to be swarmed by the paparazzi. The last thing I need is a police escort to draw more attention,” I tell him, smiling. “But thanks for the offer.”
The cop nods politely and walks back over to his squad car.
“So, how is it that you’re planning to get home?” Wes asks emphatically.
I look up at him and shrug. “I could call my parents. Or a taxi.”
“Hmm. That you could,” he agrees coolly.
Why are we playing this stupid game?
“I should wait for Andie, maybe,” I muse aloud. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to be left here all alone. Probably.”
“Makes sense,” Wes agrees. He’s keeping his tone even, unaffected. Like he’s just as afraid as I am to say the wrong thing, scare me away, imply something that would forever alter the dynamic between us.
And what dynamic is that, anyway?
“I suppose my contract to you is finished,” he adds, putting his hands in his pockets. “Your lawyer hired me to look after you and guard you from Eddie Arnold. Well, Eddie’s in custody and he’s not going to be a threat to anyone anytime soon.”
My heart is breaking and I have no way of pushing the two halves back together. I simply nod. “Yeah. I guess that’s true. You already went way above and beyond what your job required of you, too. I-I’ll definitely give you a great review, if that’s… a thing,” I tell him lamely.
Wes and I stare at each other for a moment, soaking in the tension. That electricity between us is snapping, crackling, threatening to burn us both alive if we don’t do something. say something. Bridge the gap or break it, but don’t leave it hanging like it is. I get the sense that we’re both dangling over the edge of a sheer cliff. The big fall.
“I could drive you home,” Wes offers softly. “I don’t want to just leave you here.”
“But your job is done,” I tell him, wondering why the hell I’m saying this. What am I doing? Why am I pushing him away the same way I push everyone away? Is he really just like all the others who have tried to get close to me? Is he not completely different? Something new and exciting and maybe a little bit scary, but beautiful?
Wes reaches out and takes both my hands in his.
“This isn’t part of my job. It’s… a favor,” he explains, shrugging.
“Okay,” I accept. We say goodbye to Andie, who tells me she’s fine catching a ride home from the police. Then Wes and I climb into his dark sedan and pull out of the driveway, starting the long stretch back to the big city, where maybe we’ll part ways and never see each other again. The thought makes me more than sad-- it makes me ill. Like I’m considering chopping off my arm or cutting out my heart. Do I need it anymore? Do I want it?
What do I have to lose except this hammering heart and the warmth he emanates? The safety I feel when he’s nearby? The calm that passes over me when I gaze into those radiant blue eyes? How can I just toss it all aside and go back to my former life alone?
As we roll down the woodsy gravel road, I turn to look at him. His face is stony, his expression blank, but I can see his jaw tightening. He’s tense, too. Waiting for something. A sign, maybe? For me to make the first move?
Am I brave enough to make that leap?
“Wes, you never told me the answer to the question I asked before,” I say suddenly, surprising myself as the words tumble out into the air.
He nods. He already knows the question.
“His name was Joe Mackey. They told me to kill him or they’d kill my mother. They could’ve chosen anyone else to do the job, but they picked me. They wanted to make an example of me, show their clout. They could force me to do whatever they wanted, and with blood on my hands, I would be even more wrapped up in the mafia. They would have blackmail. Something to hold over me, to make it so I could never defy them. They would have total control over me, use me like a puppet. And I did lure Mackey out into the desert. I told him I would help him escape to Mexico, get as far from the mob as he could.
“He showed up, and I was nervous. I knew if this didn’t go the way I planned, my mother’s life would be void. So I did what I had to do. I took his jacket and shot a bullet through its chest. Spilled pig’s blood from the butcher all over the scene. I left it right there on the sand, where I knew the boss would find it. I gave Mackey a new forged passport, a bus ticket, and some money. I told him to get the hell out of dodge, and if he ever dared to show his face in Vegas again, I would really kill him. I hopped in the car, drove him to the bus station, watched him board the bus, and then I took a small bag of important things I owned and I drove to Los Angeles without stopping. I never looked back. It was a long time before I worked up the courage to reach out to my mother. I was afraid that the mafia was still watching me, watching her. I was worried that I would put her in more danger. But I needed to know if she was okay. So I began sending letters, signed with a fake name. At first, she kept asking who I was, what I knew about her son who disappeared. But after awhile, she recognized my handwriting, my turns of phrase. She knew me better than anyone. So that’s how I kept in touch with her. I explained in as vague detail as I could, what happened, and why I had to ditch town.
“Ever since then, I’ve been running, Molly. Hiding from my past. From who I was. I think once the mafia realized that I did their bidding and left, they determined it was okay to let me go. The Vegas boss is sadistic. He was more interested in forcing me to perform some horrific, evil act than actually keeping me around. I went so far off their radar, they just moved on. In Vegas, there is an endless supply of young men itching for fast money and a dangerous life. They replaced me. That was never the life for me. But it is a part of me. I’m sorry for never showing you who I truly was, Molly. You of all people deserve to surround yourself with people you can trust. I’m sorry to have betrayed that trust,” Wes finishes, his voice morose and regretful.
It takes me a moment to process everything he’s said.
Now you know, my heart whispers. You know the truth. How do you feel?
I know the answer. I feel the same.
I reach over to take his hand. Wes glances over at me, surprised. I give him a wide grin and tell him, “Thank you for telling me. And don’t apologize. I’ve known exactly who you are all along. My heart recognized yours from the start, Wes. You may have been hiding from your past, but I could see the true you. I’d know if you were faking-- I’m an actress. That’s my whole job. And that guilt you’re carrying? You need to let it go. You saved my life. You saved my sister’s life. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a fucking hero, Wes Jameson. And apart from that… I like you. A lot. More than I ever thought I could like someone.”
“Molly,” he says gently, still in shock.
“Let me finish. It’s my turn to talk now,” I tell him. “I know you’re doing your job. I know you’re a busy guy with your own life. I know I’m not the kind of girl you usually like. Our lives are so different. I’m stubborn and ambitious and a workaholic. But you know what? So are you. And when I’m with you, all that noise and static in my head just goes away. You make me feel warm, and safe, and happy. I know this probably sounds crazy, but Wes, I think I’m falling for you. And whatever you choose to do with that information, I’ll accept. But if you’re going to tell me your truth, then it’s only fair that I give you mine, too. So there it is.”
Wes is silent at first, and my heart starts to sink. Still, I refuse to regret laying everything out on the table. I need to be honest about my feelings for once, instead of just burying them under piles of work and promises that maybe later I’ll let my heart speak. This time, I’m going to follow it. As the car bumps off the gravel road and onto the highway,
he turns to me with a bright smile and his blue eyes blazing.
“Well, damn,” he says, laughing. “Here’s a little more truth for you: I like you, too. Hell, after seeing the way you handled yourself last night… I might even love you.”
The word stings through my heart like an arrow. I can see him swallow hard, like it was difficult for him to admit. He said the words like it was a joke, but I know. He means it. I felt it long before he gave breath to the statement. I can’t help but smile.
“You know, I might just love you, too,” I confess, laughing.
18
Wes
I smile down at the headline and short article on the tablet Cody is holding up for me, shaking my head in disbelief.
PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER: WEDDING IN PALM-TREE PARADISE!
I was glad to find out that Molly gets as much a kick out of the tabloids as I do--especially when she’s the one who leaked the headline.
About a week ago, in the middle of all our plans, Molly and I cooked up this grand idea about a star-studded wedding in Maui, at this really nice spot where her parents got married, the kind of place that paparazzi would eat up if they got wind of it. And that’s exactly the kind of wedding we leaked to the press.
Misleading the cameras so theatrically makes it all the sweeter when Cody lowers the tablet, and I look over to my new wife with a stupid grin on my face. Molly’s laughing into her hand, nearly spilling her second glass of champagne, her bridal dress looking absolutely stunning in the sunlight that shines down on Joshua Tree National Park.
Our real wedding ceremony has just ended, and the reception is underway--if you can call it that.
“They’re gonna be pissed when they catch on,” Cody says to Molly with a wicked grin.
“Let ‘em be,” she says, waving her hand. “Wedding’s already over, they missed their million-dollar shots.”
The grand Maui wedding was just a front for our quiet, peaceful ceremony in the middle of the woods with only our closest friends and family. The little clearing we rented is perfect--tall trees surround us to give us a nice, rustic space that’s lightly decorated with lights strung up among some of the trees. There was a carpet laid out for the ceremony, and that’s still getting trampled now that the reception has started in the same little clearing.
We may have been economical with space, but we spared no expense for the quality of the food. I didn’t even realize champagne was only technically real champagne if it comes from the part of France with that name--and I never thought I’d taste the stuff, either, but it’s damn good. The chefs that catered the reception are some of the best LA has to offer, and the food comes from around the world. I’m surprised the aroma wafting through the woods doesn’t draw half the state’s bear population.
Cody winks at us and heads off to mingle with the other guests when he sees my mother rushing up to us.
“My boy is married!” Wanda gushes as she throws her arms around me, and I laugh, winking at Molly over Wanda’s shoulder as she tries to squeeze the life out of me. “Wes, I’m so proud of you!”
“Thanks, Mom,” I say as she lets go, grinning down at her. “Can’t tell you how glad I am you were able to make it down here.”
“Oh hush, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” she says, turning to Molly and wrapping her in a tight hug too. My turn to snicker at Molly over Wanda’s shoulder as she nearly goes purple in the face.
I know that’s an exaggeration--the casino usually works Wanda too hard to ever take a break, but we made sure she was compensated for her time off.
“Great to have you, Ms. Jameson,” Molly squeaks. The two have had a chance to meet, of course, and it was nice to see that they actually got along pretty well.
Not as well as with Molly’s parents, though. Wanda and Pam have been inseparable since they got in the same room together.
“And you know, that old casino might not even be something to worry about anymore,” Wanda says as she breaks away, beaming at us both. “I was just talking to Pam before the ceremony, and don’tcha know it, she wants to cast me in something she’s been working on! A TV role!” Wanda raises her eyebrows and makes a can-you-believe-it! face. “Me! On TV! But it’s supposed to be a secret, so don’t tell her I told you.”
I make the zipper gesture across my lips. “Welcome to LA, Mom.”
“She gave me a heads-up,” Molly says, a broad smile on her face. “You may or may not have a few apartments on a list for us to go check out for you.”
“This one’s on me, Mom,” I say, nodding in agreement.
Wanda bites back a smile so wide it must hurt her face, and she gives me a teary hug before she waves her hands and composes herself. “Enough about that for now--I’m so happy for you two!”
“Where are you planning the honeymoon?” asks Pam as she approaches from behind Wanda, Ken close behind while Pam hugs Molly and Ken shakes my hand firmly, mouthing a silent “Welcome to the family.”
“We’ve got a few ideas on the list,” Molly says once she’s exchanged very European cheek-kisses with her parents. “But I think Mexico is winning out,” she says with a look to me, and I nod in agreement.
“What can I say? The desert runs in my veins,” I say with a chuckle.
“Preferably the more lush parts of Mexico,” Molly adds, smirking and quirking an eyebrow at me, which I flash a grin at.
“Oh, Mexico is so gorgeous,” Pam gushes, “and you know, I think Andie and her friends went down there last year--where is Andie?”
I glance past everyone else, and my eyebrows go up at what I see across the clearing. Andie is here, but she’s preoccupied with her friends, who are nudging her and gesturing to none other than Cody at the champagne table. There’s a light blush on Andie’s face, and she keeps shaking her head in embarrassment at her friends, all of them giggling uncontrollably.
“I think Andie’s busy right now,” I say with a broadening grin. Molly follows my gaze, and her eyes go wide.
“Lord help me,” she says, rubbing her temple.
“Think she can handle this one on her own,” I say, pulling my wife--damn, I love that word now--close to me and kissing her on the cheek.
“I suppose so,” she sighs good-naturedly, smiling up at me.
“We’ll leave you two alone,” Wanda says, waving a hand at us and looking back to Pam and Ken before pulling them away. “Come on, there’s some cake with our names on it over there.”
“So, tell me about Cody…” Molly says with a hint of suspicion in her voice, and I laugh.
“He’s like me, if I was the kind of guy to run off to LA to be a rock star,” I say casually, and Molly looks mortified. I laugh heartily, picking her up by the hips and spinning her around before I bring her down and kiss her. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”
I am not kidding.
“Don’t give me a heart attack!” she says with a laugh, and once we’ve settled down, we’re left standing there, smiling into each other’s faces for a few moments.
“This is nice,” I say with finality.
“Is it?” she says, tilting her head with a playful smile on her face. Her hair is perfectly styled so that her already big curls are perfect, like a work of art.
“Yeah. I like this a lot.”
“You’re such a poet,” she says teasingly, and I take her chin in my thumb and forefinger, a grin on my bearded--but now trimmed--face.
“I like all this a lot too,” I say in a lower tone, giving her ensemble a once-over with a hungry look in my eyes.
“You don’t clean up half-bad yourself, cowboy,” she says, putting her hands on my face, and we come together in a soft kiss that makes my heart soar.
I’m married to her is all that goes through my head over and over again, like fireworks in my heart. I never thought I would feel anything like this, much less feel it for a woman like Molly Parker.
But that’s just it, I’ve come to realize, she’s not “a woman like Molly Parker.” She’s Molly. My Molly.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
The billboard outside my office has made it a lot nicer to go to work these days.
A few seconds into the kiss, though, I become aware that things are too quiet, and I open an eye to look to my right.
I do so just in time to see all the guests watching us, having paused to enjoy our moment, and they laugh and applaud for us when they realize they’ve been noticed, a few of them raising champagne glasses with broad, cheerful smiles. Even I can’t be angry at that, and I give them a gruff wave while Molly giggles and leans into me.
“Alright, show’s over,” I grunt, but at that moment, I hear the sound of Cody’s damned guitar, and I realize that the guests are forming a little clearing for the first dance. Cody himself is grinning devilishly at me, confirming that this is what I think it is. Damned traitor!
But without any training, I know this is something I’m ready for.
I look down at Molly, taking her soft hand in my rough one and giving a nod to the impromptu dance floor.
“Can I have this dance, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” she says, her voice dreamy as she stares up into my eyes. “I think you can.”
The two of us step out together as the orange light of the twilight casts a glow over us, and we slowly move into our dance together, right there under the stars.
A dance that will last a lifetime.
EPILOGUE - MOLLY
My heart is racing. I can feel the energy tingling from my head down to my toes. I’m waiting for my cue, poised in an athletic stance, trying to keep my face smooth and unaffected by the emotional scene my costars are acting out in front of me. There’s the crack of a gun-- a sound effect. My cue. I bolt from the side of the set, running in perfect form. Once I reach the hurdle, which will be CGI-morphed into a burning car, I take a soaring leap. I land gently, bend my knees, and roll to the side before jumping up back into a fighting stance with my fists in front of me, my jaw tight and my eyes fierce.
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