Chapter 13
Johnny Spinelli called me.
And? He eased into the corner of the worn leather couch in the recording studio as he typed.
He wants to talk about me doing some work with their clients. Promises to make me the “IT” girl and keep me working more steadily than Blaise.
Awesome news, Toots. Will you have any contractual issues?
I don’t think so. I don’t have an exclusive with Siren. Most people are with a few agencies to get good client coverage. But I’ll run it past a lawyer.
Why don’t we have my lawyers take a look at it.
Thanks, but I can just send it to my lawyer. Opening her desk drawer, she unsuccessfully rifled through papers in search of a business card.
Kylie, I’ve got a team who have kept me out of a lot of trouble or fixed it when I’ve gotten into trouble.
LOL…then I know they must be good!! She closed the desk drawer.
No shit! LOL. That’s why I keep a TEAM of them and make them earn their money ☺.
Bwahaha…sold! If they’ve kept your ass out of jail, then I KNOW they can protect me.
LOL, ain’t that the truth. I’ll get you an email address and let them know it’s coming. And babe… He sat up on the couch.
Yes…
Congrats! You totally deserve this. LOL … I have this feeling I’m going to keep those lawyers busy you know, fighting assholes off you.
Oh?
Those douches need to understand one thing.
And what’s that? Smiling, she could feel his testosterone rising with each text and she was loving it.
Toots, you’re mine.
The prickle of the hair on her arms made her shiver as she read his text. Say that again…
Kylie jumped as the phone in her hand rang. “Yes,” she answered with a Cheshire grin.
“Toots, you are mine,” his gravelly tone couldn’t hide his smile.
“But are you mine, Jesse?” She challenged.
“Do you really need to ask that?” There was surprise in his tone and a hint of something else.
“I just did.” Kylie held her ground.
His sigh was audible, punctuated by loud silence before he spoke again.
Forever the showman, she thought, smiling a wide smile he could not see, as she waited for him to speak again.
“Kylie,” his voice was gruff, tensed by emotion. “Babe…”
She cut him off. “Jess, I know you love me. I really do. But loving me and being mine are two very different things. You can love a lot of people.”
“That’s true,” he acquiesced. “But not the way I love you. You got under my skin. Slowly. I mean, in the beginning it was just sharing the regression stuff and working out together and getting to know each other and hanging out and talking. You know, becoming friends. And before I knew it, you were a part of me in a way no one else has ever been. It was true and pure. If that makes sense.”
Silently, Kylie nodded her head as if he could sense her understanding.
“Toots, you know me. Only a handful of people know me. I have let you in to a place so deep, that it is dangerous. It is dangerous to feel what I feel. And I know you know that. No one else is getting to that place besides you. And there’s only room for you for as long as you choose to remain there.”
Would forever work? she ached to ask, but didn’t because she knew the words I love you needed to be verbalized first and although she ached to say them, she wasn’t going to do it via a phone call.
“I’m not going anywhere,” was the depth of the sentiment she was able to share.
“Then, please, don’t question if I am yours. Just know, know with everything you are, that you don’t have to worry about it. If you’re off on shoots or I’m on tour, know with all your heart, that I am yours.”
“Does that mean that there won’t be groupies attached to your dick after a gig?”
There was a deep chuckle emanating from his throat and she knew he was smiling. “Oh, babe, the only thing attached to my dick will be my hand and hopefully we will be Skyping and you’ll be showing me that gorgeous, glistening, pink pussy of yours.”
Kylie laughed, “Might need to be the phone if I’m on my back.”
“That’ll work. Just promise me one thing, Toots.”
“What’s that?” She wondered what he was going to ask.
“Every day that we are apart because of your work or mine, I want you to send me a picture. It can be intimate, because we do know how much I love your pussy pictures. Or it can be goofy or you in full make-up or just getting out of bed or whatever. I’ll do the same. This way we see each other every day when we can’t see each other.”
“I love that. I promise, I will do that.”
“My daily Mine fix.”
As Kylie searched for the document to send to Jesse’s legal team, the realization became clear, she could finally see just how protective of her he had become and how he proved it through the generosity of his spirit. It was the nuances, like making sure she was legally covered, where Jesse not so subtly proved that mine was not just an empty word, but rather, a code by which he lived.
Mine. For the first time in forever, Kylie Martin truly felt she belonged. They belonged. Together.
••••••
With masterful precision, Bob Kreutzer slid the fader on the soundboard very slowly toward his chest. About halfway down, a thought occurred to him.
“Jesse,” he pressed the mic button to talk to his artist. “We got that. That extra riff on the chorus really works. Good add. How about if before we cut for the day, you give me a vocal on that chorus at the very end. I’ll play you the mix first so that you can hear it and then let’s lay down vocals on the second run through.
Nodding, Jesse perched on the high, three-legged stool and pulled the vocal mic to a comfortable level. With focused intensity, he listened to the segment Bob sent to his headphones. After the first pass-through, he nodded to his engineer to let him know he was ready.
With precision born of many studio hours, Jesse’s vocals began at the perfect juncture, laying down the voice track for the very end of his upcoming album’s title track, “Fade to White.”
On the last of his guitar takes, he began riffing at the end, something Bob had not expected, but captured. He’d gotten caught up in the moment and went where the music took him and now Bob wanted him to let go vocally in the same way.
Closing his eyes, he waited for his moment and the trademark gruff voice filled the recording booth.
A movie scene fades to darkness
But our score never ends
After a brilliant crescendo
It’s always ʼtil we meet again
Fade to White
As Bob watched through the window above his console, he witnessed the contortion and pain on Jesse’s face, knowing the rocker was going someplace deep and dark. When he began to sing again, his voice began as a raspy whisper, surprisingly exposing the top reaches of his falsetto. Bob knew that he was witnessing maybe the most honest and pure moment of Jesse Winslow’s recording career as he listened to the haunting melody. Sitting back to cross his arms over his chest, he needed to quell the shiver that had run up his spine and down his arms. The engineer could not remember another moment in his career that had elicited such a strong, visceral reaction. Pure Gold, the voice inside his head already knew.
A movie scene fades to darkness
But our score never ends
After a brilliant crescendo
It’s always ʼtil we meet again
Fade to White
When he finished the stanza, Jesse stood and turned away from Bob. The engineer could tell from the tension in the musician’s shoulders that Jesse needed a moment, so he slipped out of the control booth and into the hallway.
When he returned a few minutes later, Jesse was waiting for him in the control booth.
“Do you think we got it?” he asked.
Bob just nodded.
The two sat in silence for a few moments when the engineer turned to him to present a thought that, by the look on his face, had just occurred to him.
“Hey, would you possibly be interested in recording some of the tracks at Abbey Road? I’ve had time booked for months to work co-engineering with Chris in Studio 3 for Monkey Flesh, but obviously that’s not going to happen now.”
“Wow. The rest of the band doesn’t want it to lay tracks?” Monkey Flesh’s lead singer/guitarist was recuperating from a motorcycle accident that left him with more broken bones than ones left intact.
“No. I tried to talk them into that. Psychologically they are all a mess,” confided Bob.
“Wow,” Jesse’s mind was racing a hundred miles per hour. “Studio 3. It’s legendary, man. Dark Side of the Moon. Amy Winehouse’s last tracks. That’s some pedigree and a great vibe. And you and Chris. When do you have it?”
“In three weeks, for three weeks.”
“Hmm.” Jesse tapped his foot. Pulling out his cell phone, he checked his calendar app. “That would get me back in time for my showcase.”
“What showcase?” The engineer inquired.
“Just doing a small five-hundred-seat club downtown to test out the tracks solo in front of a live audience.”
“You think you’ll hook up with the band for any of this?”
Looking down, Jesse shook his head, “No, this stuff is too personal. This is about me in a way I’ve never been able to share before, and I want that to be a gift for my fans…and do it in a really intimate setting where it’s just me, my guitar and them. Totally personal.”
“It’s going to go over well in small venues. Fans are going to be clamoring for seats.” He paused, “So, London?”
With a lopsided grin, “That’s an offer I can’t refuse. I’ve never recorded at Abbey Road and heck, that’s every kid with a guitar’s fantasy. And Studio 3. Nice. The lunatic is in the studio,” he sang taking off on a Pink Floyd riff.
Bob laughed.
“That means I’ve got a shitload of writing to do between now and then. I’d love to lay down enough tracks for an LP and maybe some extras for an EP, get the whole project, pre-mastering, completed by the time we leave London.”
“We can absolutely make that happen. Especially if we’re in the groove and I’ve seen enough of what you’ve already got written to have a feel for where to take it.” Bob’s creative wheels were spinning.
••••••
He was on her the minute she opened the door, needing to feel her soft, alluring curves molded against him as his lips crushed down in a bruising kiss. Walking her backwards, he kicked the front door closed behind them. As each day passed, this woman became more and more his partner in all aspects of his life. With her New Jersey street smarts and tell-it-like-it-is persona, she was the rare gem that was always going to give him the truth and not blow smoke up his ass, merely because he was Jesse Winslow.
“Do you want to come with me to London for a few weeks?” The moment their lips parted, he blurted his news out like a kid with a secret he was bursting to contain.
“What? When?” She laughed at his excitement.
“Bob was supposed to work with Monkey Flesh and one of the engineers at Abbey Road in three weeks.” Reaching forward, he let a lock of her hair slide through his fingers.
“I could probably come for part of the time.”
“Why not all?” He was giving her a look that said I will fuck you to death daily.
“Hopefully, I, too will be working. I’m meeting with Johnny on Tuesday after my appointment with Claire and he said he’s got a big surprise for me.” She positioned herself across his lap.
“You don’t have to,” his voice was a whisper and without his eyes leaving hers, his right hand moved slowly up her skirt, tracing small circles on the inside of her thigh with his forefinger. As he reached the lacy edge of her thong, he stopped for a moment before rubbing her heat on the outside of the fabric. Watching her pupils dilate, he laughed and repeated, “You really don’t have to work.”
Spreading her legs a little for him, hoping to coax his fingers under the fabric for what awaited him, she shook her head no. “I’ve always supported myself. I can never give up that independence and freedom.”
“You are so fucking badass and hot.” He smiled down at her. “I still want you with me for as much as possible in London.” Laughing, “Damn, I’m being needy.”
“I promise, I’ll try and spend as much time with you there as I possibly can if you’ll put three fingers inside me right now.”
“Now who’s the needy one? Only three? That all you can handle, Toots?” His cock was aching inside his jeans.
She laughed. “Shut up and get me off.” The last word getting garbled in her throat as Jesse plunged three fingers into her and his thumb pressed down on her clit.
••••••
Rolling over in bed, she nestled her head on his warm chest. “I’m blowing off my appointment with Claire today.”
“Why?” His voice was thick with sleep.
“I’m certainly not going to do a regression before my meeting with Johnny, and sometimes I walk out of there feeling more fucked up than when I walked in. This way, I can take my time getting ready, look my hottest and be totally clear-headed.”
The low growl in his voice was followed by his lopsided smile. “Toots, you look your hottest with my cock rammed all the way into you and your hair spilling all over my chest.”
Without wasting a moment, Kylie’s hand went in search of the morning hard-on waiting for her. Slowing stroking his rigid length, she clenched her own vaginal muscles, feeling her wetness readying her to take him deep with one plunge. Slinging her legs over his slim hips, she lowered herself all the way down, her gasp drowning out his. Slowly, she lifted all the way up, until he was out of her and she could rub his soft tip along the length of her opening.
“Ready for more?” Her eyes flashed the challenge. Before waiting for a response, she had engulfed him fully yet again.
“Fuck me hard,” he demanded and she set a ravenous pace solely focused on getting herself off on his cock. “Sit up a little more, I want to see your tits bounce.”
She leaned back on his cock, straightening up.
“Yeah, just like that.” Reaching with both hands, he grabbed her nipples, twisting them hard, making her groan from the pleasurable pain. Her reaction made him crave more and he pinched them hard enough to hear her whimper. Pulling her forward by her breasts, he sucked the left nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue to cool down the sharp pain and then sucked the right nipple into his mouth.
Rolling Kylie off him, his cock still buried within her and her nipple firmly entrenched past his teeth, he plowed into her hard as he continued to suck voraciously.
“Suck harder,” she could hardly get the words out. “Harder, please,” she begged.
Switching back to the left nipple, he complied. As he sucked harder, her muscles tightened around his cock, squeezing him to climax. “Let me know when you’re ready.” He pulled his lips from her nipple momentarily to say, going back with renewed vigor.
Moving to the rhythm of his thrusts, she tightened her thighs around his hips, simultaneously squeezing his cock hard with her pussy muscles. “Now,” the word caught in her throat. “Now. Come in me now.”
Plowing into her, he could feel the pressure rising his length, building from his balls, an exquisite fuse erupting into her as he tried to bury himself deeper, sending his seed as far into her as he could get it.
Pulling her to him, he whispered in her ear, “London’s going to suck if you’re not with me.”
••••••
“Have you met Joanna Tivoli, the head of our Women’s Division?” Johnny Spinelli ushered Kylie into his all-glass corner office. She couldn’t help but notice that not only was the office constructed of glass, the man was a collector of art glass, which was the perfect media for this sunlight-bathed space. The reds, purples and golds glowed and shimmered. Kylie wanted to walk around the office inspecting the beauty of each piece, but with the woman standing right before her, she knew there would be no time for pleasantries.
Her suit was French, her shoes Italian and she was just short of beautiful. The sharp intelligence in her eyes, as they slowly flowed down every inch of Kylie’s body, however, made her very attractive. Nothing got past this woman and you definitely wanted to call her friend and not enemy.
Without a word, Joanna looked at Johnny to transmit her approval via an almost imperceptible nod and Kylie instantly felt muscles relax from her abdomen to her cheeks.
“A pleasure,” Kylie extended a hand for a firm, yet feminine, shake.
Johnny gestured for them to all take a seat.
“Kylie, you are a natural redhead.” Joanna was almost astounded. “What is your ancestry?”
“I’m a UK mutt. English, Scottish, and some Irish in there, too.” Kylie smiled.
“What size are you currently wearing?” Joanna cut to the chase.
Without missing a beat or any hint of an apologetic tone, “In general, fourteens are fitting very well now. In some cases, I can go down to twelves on a top and in other cases a sixteen on the bottom, depending on the cut.” She wondered what they were thinking as she spit out numbers more than double what they were used to hearing.
The silence was suffocating. Maybe she was just too big for Johnny to make her the ‘IT’ girl. People wanted to see perfection and society didn’t deem double digit sizes as perfect.
“Kylie, I need to tell you something that is not public knowledge at this point and needs to stay that way.” He held her stare and she nodded, assenting to keep the information in confidence. “You’re familiar with Northern Lights Sportswear?”
Again, she nodded.
“Anika Robinson was chosen as the face of Northern Lights for both spring and fall campaigns. Shoots are set-up in both Alaska and Australia and start in a few weeks.”
Kylie wondered what he was getting to, there was some bombshell he was about to drop.
“Anika is very ill,” he went on.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Here it comes.
“Truth of the matter is, she has an eating disorder.”
Don’t we all, thought Kylie
“Last week she ended up in Cedars-Sinai after a seizure.”
“Oh, my God.” Kylie’s hand flew to her mouth.
“She needs intensive health care before we’ll see her again.” He paused, “In addition to Anika, the sixteen-year old daughter of Northern Lights’s owner, Ross Eggleston, is also suffering from an eating disorder, so this has hit very close to home for him.”
So, they want the fat girl? was the first thought that ran through her head. It was almost out of her mouth when Joanna thankfully began to speak.
“Kylie, you are not only stunningly beautiful, but you are actually now smaller than the average size of most U.S. women, which makes you a more realistic body image.”
“Maybe too realistic,” Kylie couldn’t contain her commentary.
The look on Joanna’s face indicated that maybe she thought Kylie was too large and would not have been her first choice. That maybe her first choice would have been a single digit- sized model–possibly someone who was a size 6.
“Rubbish,” Johnny inserted, sensing the discord between the two women. “You have such a natural look, we think you’ll be perfect for their line.”
Kylie noted the “we” and felt Johnny was definitely sending Joanna a message.
“I know it’s short notice, very short notice, but if you and Jesse are available on Thursday evening, we have a table at the Big Brothers Big Sisters event that Ross Eggleston’s wife, Marla, is co-chairing. I’d love for Ross to meet you in person. He’s viewed your portfolio and is very interested.”
Kylie smiled. And I bet I become more interesting with Jesse Winslow at my side, she thought.
“I’d love to meet him.” Tipping her head, she smiled at Johnny. “And I’ll check with Jesse and see what his schedule looks like. He’s in the middle of recording right now.”
“So, he’s back in the studio?” Joanna was even interested in the scoop on the famous rocker.
Kylie nodded. “Yes. He is.”
As if reading her train of thought with the expertise of a clairvoyant, Kylie could see the cogs turning in the modeling executives head. Maybe size fourteen isn’t so hideous after all. They could spin it as beauty comes in all sizes…And still gets the guy. And that is not just any guy. She could so sell this to Ross. And to his wife.
“An album?” Joanna was her new best friend.
Kylie laughed, “That’s what he’s working on.”
“Tour?” She pressed.
“No. Nothing like that yet. But he is planning a small showcase downtown in one of the clubs.” While Kylie loved celebrating Jesse, because she was so proud of the progress he’d made, it was hard admitting that her success was, in part, because her star was hitched to his. Shooing away a wave of self-doubt, she wondered if she’d ever again have an identity that was not associated with the irresistible bad boy of rock. And she knew her name would always evoke his in the same sentence. So, with that fact firmly accepted, there was only one thing to do.
The road to seeing perfection, when you looked in the mirror, was only achievable when you learned to accept and love yourself. Especially the pieces with the jagged edges that didn’t quite fit in. Her time in therapy with Claire had shown her that. She loved who she had become through choosing to walk in different shoes than she was raised in. And now, here she was, nowhere near standard model weight, and it was her relationship with Jesse that allowed her to share with other women that you don’t have to be starved to perfection to have an amazing man by your side. You can be healthy both inside and out by listening to your body and not trying to fit into Madison Avenue’s plastic mold.
Maybe out there, some young girl ready to stick her finger down her throat or binge and take laxatives would not destroy their body and their self-esteem, because she, at size fourteen, was truly happy, and deeply loved by a man who was on a poster on their bedroom wall.
And if that is what being hitched to Jesse’s star brought into the world, then it was okay to have her success and identity wrapped up in his. Maybe that is why our paths crossed, she wondered.
••••••
“Was that a memory with your grandfather that you’d been conscious of before today?” Claire watched Jesse rustle his spiky hair as he thought about what he’d just experienced.
“No. I had no clue he tried to have me taken away from my parents.” He shook his head. “No clue at all.”
“And how does that make you feel?” She crossed her legs the other way. The little bit of toe cleavage exposed at the top of her beige pump.
“Loved by my grandparents. At least someone had my best interests at heart. But also pissed as shit at my parents. I was a little kid. I depended on them to take care of me. Make sure I was safe. And they just sucked at it. They really did.”
“Are you ready to forgive them?” Claire asked.
“Ya know, Dr. S., I just need to process this all so that I can let go of the bad energy. But I need to understand it. I need to understand who they were back then. I really want to be able to move forward.”
“I’m sensing that you’re questioning if you’ll be able to.”
“I’m angry that my parents didn’t get me help when I was little, that nobody even talked to me to see if I was okay. I’m angry that my father put his band before me and I’m really pissed that my mom put him before me. My grandparents saw my decline, the change in my personality and they tried to step in. We saw that today with what I remembered. But again, my parents wouldn’t do what was in my best interests. They should have let my grandparents take me until they got their shit together.” Jesse shook his head, his fingers slowly raking through his hair. “I remember doing drugs at eleven or twelve, hoping my father would accept me, pay attention to me, let me in. That was how I tried to bond with the man.”
Claire remained silent as Jesse gathered his thoughts.
“They couldn’t help me because they couldn’t even help themselves,” was his assessment. “A lot to think about.” Jesse started gathering up his stuff. “Oh, hey, I’m going to miss a few sessions. I’ll be here for the next two and then I’m going to miss three sessions.”
“Traveling?” She asked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“To London. To record. This amazing opportunity to record at Abbey Road just fell into my lap and that’s just a dream come true for any musician.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“I’ve got the studio space for three weeks and then when I come home, I’ve got to prepare for a gig, so I think I’ll probably miss three sessions.”
“Okay, let me mark you out on my calendar. Shall we get in one more regression before you go?”
“Absolutely.” He nodded. “And can I put you with a plus one on the guest list for my gig? It’s going to be a small acoustic showcase downtown at The Bowery Ballroom. Like five hundred people.”
“I’d love to come see you play,” Claire smiled at her patient, her shoulder dipping slightly. “That sounds like a very intimate setting.” Her tone softened.
“Absolutely. A lot of audience interaction. I’ll get really good feedback immediately on the new material. Will this be the first time you’ve seen me live?”
Claire nodded.
Laughing, “You get Jesse tamed.”
Watching her nostrils flare as she sharply exhaled, he wondered if that meant something.
••••••
Big Brothers Big Sisters of NYC’s Big Night Out became a paparazzi-worthy event the moment former Miss New Jersey, Kylie Martin, and her plus one showed up. Wandering around the casino-themed night, Kylie spotted Joanna Tivoli, looking ravishing and bored in a red side-drape, plunge gown.
“Come, I’ll introduce you to Joanna Tivoli, the head of the Women’s Division of FACES USA. I’ll bet she’s a lot nicer to me with you here.” She steered him by the arm through the crowd.
“She didn’t like you?”
“She thinks I’m fat.”
Stopping abruptly and turning to face her, Jesse let his eyes walk slowly and deliberately over Kylie, lingering on her full breasts. “Is she the one in the red?”
Kylie nodded.
“Lay my cheek on your amazing soft, full tits or ride a bicycle frame? I could ask any man in this room and the result would be the same–her skinny ass would be going home alone. The bitch better not dis you again.”
“Come on, Prince Charming,” she led him to Joanna.
As cool as people tried to act, both men and women alike, could not help but be starstruck in the presence of Jesse Fucking Winslow. Joanna Tivoli was no different. She stammered, she giggled and she looked positively green with jealousy at the way Jesse touched and looked at Kylie.
It didn’t take long for Johnny to find them with Ross Eggleston, his wife, Marla, and their daughter, Sarah, in tow. At their heels, the event photographer was both in shock and awe to come upon Jesse Winslow and took Johnny’s direction as he set-up the photo op for the Egglestons, Kylie, Jesse, and himself.
Kylie couldn’t take her eyes off Sarah’s skeletal limbs. This beautiful little girl was doing this to herself. Willingly. It wasn’t like Geneviève, who was ill and couldn’t fend for herself against people who treated her like worthless garbage. Kylie wanted to help Sarah love herself. But what could she say and this certainly wasn’t the time or place. But maybe if Ross Eggleston hired her, she’d have the opportunity to have those conversations with her. To tell her about her journey. Let her know that once she, herself, was pageant girl thin and that she wasn’t happy being constrained by others’ ideals. And that while weight might always be a struggle for her, there was no comparison to the struggle and pain of starvation.
Ross and Johnny gravitated toward Kylie after the introductions were made. Smoothly, Jesse stepped out, engaging Joanna and the Eggleston women in conversation, who clearly were in seventh heaven, feeling that they had gotten the better part of the deal.
“I told you she was stunning,” Johnny oozed confidence when he spoke to Ross.
“You are a very beautiful woman, Kylie,” Ross agreed. “Johnny has told you what we are looking to do. Obviously, there’s a problem within Northern Lights and the Northern Lights family,” he began, glancing at his daughter.
Kylie began to speak, her voice strong, “Mr. Eggleston, the problem has become so universal that it is heartbreaking to see young girls and women robbed of their self-esteem because they don’t fit what is, frankly, an unhealthy dynamic. Honestly, the best thing in the world that happened to me was losing my Miss New Jersey title because of the weight I’d gained. Everyone thought I was ruining my life, but it didn’t feel that way to me. It felt like one-thousand pounds of pressure to be perfect had been lifted off me. I got into therapy, started looking at what made me happy and what didn’t, and I began working out with a trainer who understood I needed to feel beautiful on the inside first.” She looked over at Jesse, “And I’m in a really loving relationship with a man who understands that when you get to the darkest depths, you either fight your way back to the surface or you die.”
Ross just stood there for a moment. “Help us do something great.”
“It would be my pleasure,” she smiled.
“We start in two weeks.”
“I’ll be ready.” Smiling, she put a hand on Johnny’s arm. “Well, I’ll let you gentlemen hammer out what needs to be hammered out, and, in the meantime, I’d love to come down to your offices, meet everyone and get a better feel for things.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Kylie could see Johnny Spinelli counting the cash. He’d hit the jackpot without even playing a single casino game.
As they walked toward the buffet and table area, Kylie scanned the room for Jesse who had taken off with Joanna and the Eggleston family, as the two men walked off.
“Well, what a surprise seeing you here,” he whispered into her ear.
Turning toward the voice, she plastered a smile on her face as bright as her teeth, “Blaise, how are you?”
“Not so happy at the moment, Ms. Martin.”
“Why is that?” Kylie played innocent. How fucking fast does news travel in this industry? she wondered.
“I understand you’re going to be spending some time in Alaska and Australia.”
“So it seems.” She looked over his shoulder, still scanning for Jesse.
“No one would look at you twice when you were just that fat girl who left the pageant circuit, disgraced. I saved you,” he hissed, a plume of the alcohol on his breath making Kylie’s nose twitch.
“Blaise, I thank you for having the confidence in me and for taking a chance. I have done nothing but make you money. The clients have been pleased with the work I’ve done and I have represented Siren with the utmost professionalism. There are no exclusivity clauses in my contract and nothing that precludes me from accepting assignments through other agencies. And you know, for the most part, models are with multiple agencies, so that they can keep working. I’m not doing anything different than ninety percent of the models you represent.”
“Yeah, but I took you when no one else would. Now that you’re a novelty because you’re Jesse Winslow’s chubby girlfriend, yeah, everyone wants to make a quick buck off you before he dumps your fat ass. The minute he has the chance he’ll trade you for a couple of grams of coke and you’ll deserve it because bitches like you have no loyalty.”
As soon as the last syllable of loyalty was out of his mouth, there was a hand on his chest driving him back into the wall.
“What did you just call her?”
The air was knocked out of Blaise, robbing him of the ability to respond. Jesse moved in like a panther, nose to nose with his adversary. “Don’t you ever speak to her like that again. Do you understand me? You address her with the respect she deserves.”
“Jesse, don’t.” Kylie was by his side trying to block people from seeing what was happening. She put a hand on his arm and with slight pressure let him know he needed to take his hand off Blaise’s chest.
“Blaise, after what you’ve said to me tonight, you don’t deserve the opportunity to represent me. I gave you credit for being a smart businessman, but evidently I was wrong. I’d actually like to thank you for your lack of professionalism this evening. You’ve made it very clear to me that I do not want my name or my career associated with you.” Taking Jesse’s arm with her hand, she turned to her boyfriend and said, “Shall we?” Indicating that she was ready to leave.
With sufficient distance between them and the Siren exec, Jesse gave her a smile. “Toots, you were brilliant.”
“I really was, wasn’t I? I had this flash of Geneviève in my head and how she was controlled by men after she lost Bruno and I just had to do this for her,” she paused, “and me.” They walked a few more steps, “Thank you for coming to my defense.”
“Well, you didn’t need it and frankly, you handled it a lot better than I did. I just reacted and went into testosterone-protect mode. No one is going to disrespect you like that in my presence. But, Toots, you showed me tonight, no one is going to abuse you and get away with it, whether I’m there or not.”
Kylie laughed, “People should know better. Don’t fuck with New Jersey chicks. And you really don’t want to fuck with a pageant girl. We will eviscerate you and you’ll think we just gave you the solution to world peace.”
“Damn, you’re hot,” he whispered in her ear.
“Let’s find Johnny and the Eggleston’s and say goodnight. I think I’ve had enough for one evening.”
“I don’t know, I think you could still take a few inches.”
“Just a few?” She mocked sadness.
Holding up a hand, he wiggled his fingers, “When I pluck you like a six-string.” As they made their way across the space, Jesse slung an arm across Kylie’s shoulders, pulling her into his side. “I keep getting hard just thinking about how you handled him. You are so badass.” He kissed her temple, just as they approached Johnny, Joanna, and the Egglestons.
“There they are,” Johnny smiled as they approached. “We were just discussing the trip. We leave for Alaska in two weeks.”
“I’ve never been. I’m excited to go there. I understand it’s very beautiful. And that the men are burly and hot.” She jabbed Jesse in the ribs with her elbow and laughed.
“I’m gonna get dumped for a salmon fisherman, I know it,” he laughed and everyone joined him.
“Come, join us,” Ross offered.
“I’d love to. I hear it’s gorgeous. But I’m going to be in London for a few weeks recording.”
“With the band?” Sarah asked.
“No. This is some solo work I’ve been doing. It’s for my next album. When you guys get back from Australia, I’m doing a small showcase show at The Bowery Ballroom downtown. I’ll make sure you’re all added to the guest list.”
“Can I bring a friend?” Sarah piped in.
Jesse smiled at the teen. “I’ll personally make sure you’ve got a plus one, Sarah.”
As Kylie watched her boyfriend make the teen swoon, she hoped that Sarah would be with them in Alaska and Australia, at least part of the time, so that she could have the opportunity to really talk to the teen and maybe help her find the path to healing herself.
••••••
Rolling over, even in her sleep she knew she needed to savor every moment feeling him next to her. She was going to miss his warmth, the funny little noises he made in his sleep and the talking, the conversations he had aloud with the people in his dreams. So, when her arm found cold, empty space, she woke from her half-sleep state.
Under the door was a slit of light coming from down the hall. What was he doing up at this hour? Rubbing her eyes, she grabbed her phone from the night table to see the time. There were still two and a half hours until the alarm before she had to get dressed and begin a long day that would end in Anchorage, Alaska.
Swinging her long legs off the bed, Kylie headed down the hall on her journey to find out what had Jesse up at this hour. His journal was open and there were lines of lyrics, crossed out words and margin notes. He sat playing solitaire with his ancient deck of cards, she had heard them snapping to the table before even entering the room.
“Hey, babe,” she said softly to let him know she’d come up behind him.
Turning and smiling, he extended an arm to invite her into his lap. “Hey, Toots.”
“What’s going on?”
“I had an idea for a song. Got the first two verses out and was just thinking where, if anywhere, I wanted to take it. So, just clearing my mind with a game of solitaire.”
“We’ve got two and a half hours till my alarm, play solitaire after I leave. Come and snuggle.” Kissing the tip of his nose, she rose from his lap and headed back to bed, hearing his footsteps almost immediately after hers.
“I’m going to miss you,” she whispered once in the comfort of his spoon and strong arms.
“We’re not getting out of bed for a month after we both get back.”
Kylie laughed. “You really do have this John and Yoko thing.”
Hearing the normalized pattern of his breathing, she knew not to wait for a response and snuggled in deeper into his arms for what would be the last time for more than a month.
••••••
Making sure the doorman had loaded the last of her luggage into the Town Car, he opened the back door for her.
“I’m going to miss you, Toots. I want to get in that car and go with you.” He took her face in both hands, kissing each corner of her mouth before going in for a deep kiss. “A picture a day,” he reminded her.
Kylie nodded-unable to speak-and ducked into the car. Waving goodbye, she tried to capture a mental image as he stood on the sidewalk watching her leave.
Pulling out her phone, she typed the text message, Missing you already, your (pageant) Queen of Hearts and sent off the first photo to him.
She could barely see him, half a block away, when he reached into his pocket for his phone and opened the text.
Smiling as he viewed the first of many daily pictures. This one, handwritten lyrics on a swath of a page in his journal with the Queen of Hearts from his deck sitting diagonally across the page and she’d added a vintage, vignette sepia overlay to frame the image.
He was still smiling as he walked back into the building.
She certainly is my Queen of Hearts, he mused.