Chapter Eleven
Marty
I already had a plan raging in my mind as the weekend progressed. The girls prodded me about my date with Jax, and I told them about everything—except the kiss. Every time I thought about it, I got weak in the knees, but the last thing I needed was for them to be ragging on me about screwing the hired help or something like that. At first, Marianne was skeptical about hiring him, so I asked Jax to send me a clip of him singing.
He ended up sending me an entire song, and even I was blown away by his raw talent. He was able to build the most beautiful wall of sound with the rich tones of his guitar, which contrasted perfectly with his gruff, pitch-perfect tenor vocals. His amazing natural aptitude for music combined with his bad boy appearance would have women melting at the knees, and I knew it’d be crazy to not jump at the opportunity to get him signed with a label.
I was thrilled when Marianne agreed to have him perform at her reception, because that meant I still had a plus one spot for the wedding—and I knew exactly who I was going to bring.
“You’re telling me some guitar-strumming wedding singer has the voice to make it big?”
Jerry Bolderman was the hottest name in the production scene at the time, and I had the distinct honor of turning him down for a date. I was set to meet with him to talk about a client of mine who wanted to collaborate with one of his artists, and when I approached him, he mistook me for some hot young thing he’d apparently ordered for the night. He called me ‘sweetheart’ and told me how endearing my freckles were; the bastard even patted his knee for me to sit on. I was two seconds from kicking him right in the balls before he realized his horrifying mistake.
Regardless of whatever kinky shit went down in his personal life, no one in the business could doubt his gift in production. He was ingenious with his mixes; he could do incredible things with the weirdest of instruments, and he was known for giving his artists complete creative freedom.
Every musician in the industry wanted to be signed to his label.
“Remember that dinner we had a few months ago, Jer?” I asked.
“God, the one where I looked like a complete ass?”
“Yeah, that one,” I laughed. “Remember what I told you about that artist?”
“You told me she was the sweetest thing until she opened her mouth, and then she fucking blew me away on stage. Seriously, she peeled my damn eyebrows off in the best way possible,” Jerry chuckled.
“In the same way she was a powerhouse, this guy is a quiet, raging storm. He’s got this look that screams ‘jail time bad boy’, but his voice…you just have to hear it. I’m serious, Jerry. Come to this wedding with me and see for yourself.”
“Oh, so this went from a client meeting to a wedding invitation. If I’m not careful, I might leave engaged myself.”
“Down boy. No need to tap your knee again; the answer’s still no,” I laughed.
“Alright, fine. Tell me where to be and when, and we’ll have a listen to your dream boy.”
“Jax Weatherspoon,” I said. “Remember that name, because when he’s done performing, you’re going to want to know it when you shake his hand. Saturday night, 5:00. I’ll text you the address for the venue; the ceremony will be short.”
“See you Saturday, Leoni.”
“See you then.”
As I ended the call, I jumped at the sound of Clara’s voice. “You sure this is a good idea?”
I nodded, “You know I’ve always followed my gut with artists.”
“It’s not your opinion of him as a musician, I’m talking about how he feels performing for some big producer without knowing about it.”
“Look, Jax is dancing four nights a week after working on cars all day in order to pay for his mother’s cancer treatments. If Jerry likes him and all Jax wants to do is make it a side hustle or something, he would still be pulling in twice as much as he does now, and he wouldn’t have to dance anymore. This could really help him out a lot.”
“Sounds like you really care about him.”
I couldn’t disagree with her. I mean, I’d just gotten in from spending half the day with him. He showed me around the garage after he closed it down for the night, and we sat in the back room eating chips from the vending machine, catching up on each other’s lives and laughing over old stories.
He told me about how he hired the guys and how they always stuck by him, even though he couldn’t pay them, and how he was only months away from paying it off. I told him about school and how I met the girls, and how special it was to be Marianne’s maid of honor, especially after all they went through. We talked about families we might want and houses we might buy one day…and it was as if we had never parted ways.
And now, it was almost midnight, and I was just on the phone with the biggest producer of our time, sweet talking my way into a private show that could possibly change Jax’s entire life. I was risking my best friend’s wedding reception—as well as my reputation—for a man I’d only been reacquainted with for three days.
But it didn’t feel like three days. The way we talked, the way his hands felt around mine, the way he looked at me…hell, the way he kissed me…it felt as if he’d never left.
It felt as if my parents had never ripped me away from him in the first place.
“You love him, don’t you.”
I couldn’t answer Clara. All I could do was swallow back tears as I thought about everything we went through in high school: all the sneaking around and the classes missed because of make-out sessions in the locker room. I thought about all the times his mother let me stay at their house when I didn’t want to go home and deal with my parents, and all the times his father gave me advice when I wished my own father would have. I thought about the times Jax and I made love; how good it felt to be that close to a guy most people wrote off as a lost cause. Jax never opened up to anyone in high school—not even his own mother, sometimes—and yet, he bared his vulnerable soul to me.
It made me feel powerful and loved in ways I’d never felt since I was with Jax.
“Maybe that’s why you haven’t dated much since we’ve known you,” Alyssa said.
“How long have you been standing there?” I murmured.
“Long enough.”
“It’s true. We’ve known you for almost ten years, and you’ve gone on exactly four dates. And none of them qualified for a second one,” Clara remarked.
“Yeah, well, New York men just suck.”
“Two of them were in college right up the road,” Alyssa said flatly.
“Well, they sucked in college, too.”
“Marty—”
“Look, guys, I’m just helping a friend. Nothing more, alright? He’s gonna rock Marianne’s reception, and he might just get a music contract out of it.”
“Alright,” Alyssa said while she held up her hands.
“Just…promise me something,” Clara said.
“What?”
“Dance with him at the reception. Just once. And if you don’t feel anything, you can part ways or be his manager or whatever. But if you feel something—if you really feel it—just go with it. Alright, Marty?”
And all I could do was nod and turn my back to the girls before a lone tear streamed down my cheek.