Not go?
I’d always gone. I’d always done what Derek had said – he was our PR guy. He was the one who made sure that when These Exiles toured the world there were people there to play to.
Without Derek and his master manipulations, was there even a band?
We were making music long before we ever met Derek, I remindedmyself. Still, Derek was behind a huge part of our success. I figured the least I owed him was doing as he asked.
‘I mean,’ Jessy added, smiling nervously, ‘I’m never going to say no to spending another evening with you at someplace fancy, but … but do I have to share you?’
Two more weeks.
That was all we had together.
Five weeks had seemed like such a long time when we’d sat down in that meeting room and gone over the contract.
Now I was beginning to realize that a month with Jessy Donovan was never going to be enough.
Just fake date the girl. Just pretend you’re into her.
How wrong I’d been.
When had the pretending stopped and real, red-hot emotions entered the chat?
I breathed in slowly, trying to find some equilibrium. It’d gone so far beyond that.
‘You don’t have to share me,’ I said, surprised at how level my voice sounded. ‘But I promise we’re going to have a fantastic time.’
Jessy rolled her eyes. ‘All right, come on then. I mean, how bad can it be?’
It was bad.
For a start, the place was packed. I’d forgotten just how many people had been shortlisted for awards, and of course each of them had brought a date, so as Jessy and I walked from room to room it was a struggle to push our way through. Conversations bubbled up from all directions, snippets about investors and contracts and conversion rising above the hubbub. A folky sort of group was playing music in onecorner, making it almost impossible to hear anyone properly, the lights were low, the drinks were flowing –
‘This is insane.’
I shivered; Jessy’s breath on my neck could end me, and she didn’t even know it.
Well. As I looked at her and saw her grin, perhaps she did.
‘Is your whole life like this?’ she asked lightly, pulling me by the hand over to one of the photo booths that lined one wall of the room we’d just entered. Flashes of light under the curtain suggested it was already occupied. ‘Just going from one highbrow shindig to another?’
‘Only during awards season,’ I said darkly. ‘And, honestly, they’re not all that much fun.’
Not any more. It was all so fake and performative.
And then there was Jessy. Jessy – smiling as a trio of women left the booth, yanking me in –
‘Jessy, what –’
The photo booth was narrow, probably only a few feet wide. The low lighting barely made it in here, casting us in near darkness. Almost all I could do was feel her – not exactly a hardship – and hear her.
Hear her ragged breathing.
‘What are we doing in here, Jessy?’ I couldn’t help but ask, my hand still entwined with hers.
I could almost hear her grin. I could definitely hear her giggle.
‘Well, I don’t know about you. But me?’ Jessy’s voice was light, playful. ‘I’m just proving that I can make this party far more fun.’
