As I entered the restaurant that evening for Lil’s leaving drinks, what sense of calm I’d had earlier in the day was rapidly evaporating.
In a little over twenty-four hours, Jesse was going to ride a bull with a broken wrist and barely a fuck left to give. And maybe, if he didn’t get fucking trampled to death or break his neck, Chrissy would be all too happy to celebrate with him.
Despite the after-effects of my last hangover, I ordered a double whiskey, dead-eyeing the barman as he asked what mixer I wanted with it. Looking round the room, a smart, post-work banker bar in the City, I had a sudden pang for the bars in Jackson. The lack of pretentious voices and conversation; the easy-going, emotive country music that gave a depth and a vibe difficult to describe but impossible to forget.
I knocked back the drink in one as the barman handed it over, tapping my card on the payment machine as I finished, the heat of the whiskey searing my mouth and throat.
‘Another?’ he asked, his eyebrows raised, eyes flicking over my tattoos. The contrast between me and the usual customers was pretty stark.
‘No, thanks,’ I replied. ‘Here for my friend’s drinks party, actually. American, blonde, hot, Sabrina Carpenter vibes – seen her?’
He smiled, tilting his head as he took my empty glass back.
‘Yeah, hard to miss,’ he said, gesturing towards the very back. ‘Bit like you,’ he added, a suggestive curve to his mouth.
‘Not tonight, hotshot,’ I replied, giving him a half-smile in return as I began walking away, weaving through the sea of City boys with their slicked-back hair and signet rings.
‘Hestia, hey!’ Lil called from the centre of a small group of people at the back. I smiled, feeling yet another pang as I eyed her denim skirt and cowboy boots – just a cowboy hat away from her Jackson roots.
‘Hey,’ I replied, leaning into her huge hug, noting the way the group of others looked on with curiosity, Jamie raising his hand and grinning.
‘I’m so glad you could make it,’ she said, leaning back and smiling. ‘I can’t believe how quick this week has gone . . . I’ll almost be home this time tomorrow.’ She shook her head, leading me over to the others. ‘How’s it going with the studio and settling back in?’
‘It’s, uh . . . it’s been difficult,’ I began. Lil turned back to me, frowning as the other people began to introduce themselves – all friends of Jamie’s.
‘So what do you do, Hestia? Jamie says you live around here?’
He’d introduced himself as Dillon, one of Jamie’s uni friends. He had a cocky edge to his voice and a swagger that suggested he was rarely refused anything.
‘Yeah, I did,’ I answered, catching Lil’s eye for a moment. Her frown deepened. ‘I’m a tattoo artist, although I’m considering different things right now.’
As he opened his mouth, eyes narrowed in on my neck, Lil interjected.
‘Dillon, honey, would you do us the biggest favour?’ she asked, laying her hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to turn to her. ‘Hestia and I are just about gasping for another drink. Mine’s a dirty martini, and I’d bet my life Hestia drinks those too?’
I hid a smile as I nodded, glancing down at my own cowboy boots, inconspicuous under my black, wide-leg jeans.
‘Of course,’ he simpered, another friend joining him to top up the whole group.
As he left, she grasped me gently by the arm, leading us away to a nearby standing table.
‘Youdidlive here? Considering new things?’ she began, eyebrows in her hairline. ‘What the hell happened in the past few days?’
I stared at her, hesitating, not quite knowing how to voice the thoughts that’d started developing this afternoon after I’d left the studio.
‘The studio is . . . gone,’ I admitted. I told her about the events of the afternoon, then rewound back to the painful moments with Jesse on the phone. My voice cracked a little as I finally admitted my simmering panic about his mental state, and about seeing Chrissy in his truck – and the lack of immediate flights to attempt to sort it out.
Lil’s face, so like Lottie’s, blurred at the edges as I blinked away the hurt and frustration. And, just as Lottie’s would, her expression hardened, a steely core flashing through her wide blue eyes.
‘C’mon, we’re going outside for a moment,’ she said, taking my hand and walking us through the building crowd and out into the cooling air, the relative quiet settling across us. ‘This is bullshit. That man is a stubborn ass sometimes,’ she added, pulling out her phone. ‘But he’ll listen to his boss. He’ll have to.’
I held my breath as she called him, fighting back feelings of helplessness, grateful for her help but equally unsure how to accept it.
‘Jesse, honey, how are ya?’ she began, the friendly tone casing the hard edge of the expression. Her eyes narrowed as she took in his response. ‘All of you, out on the town? That a good idea right before the competition?’
I balled my hands into fists, nails digging into my palms as she waited for his response.
‘Oh, I’m coming home soon,’ she suddenly replied, all trace of joviality gone. ‘But changing the subject isn’t gonna get you off the hook, Jesse.’
