Chapter One

-Wednesday Afternoon-

 

Six long, painful years later.

Jessie arrived at George’s Cocktail and Lounge, known as the Club, where she worked as a manager, hoping she could sit around the bar and talk with Keith, her bartender, before starting her shift. To see how the business was going to be like for the afternoon. She was about to order a soft drink when Keith cut her off. “Hey, sweetie,” he smiled and kissed her from across the bar. “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh.” She smiled back at the man that she has been dating now for over a year. “And just what trouble have I been accused of now?”

Keith was eight years older than Jessie and was married before, just as well as her. But, unlike her, he wasn't divorced. His wife died four years back, giving birth to his only child, leaving him to raise a new baby girl all alone. Jessie hasn’t met the little girl yet, and at times she couldn’t understand why, but all the same, she wasn’t ready to get close to any kid. Keith wasn’t too much taller than Jessie either nor much bigger. He was teased a lot about his built, being told that he was a little like a girl. Some even thought that he must be gay for being single so long and still living at home with his mother at the age of thirty-seven. Jessie is the first and only girl that he even considered dating after his wife’s death. Jessie didn’t mind him being a momma’s boy. She thought he was cute in his unique way, like a small businessman, with his sandy brown hair and brown eyes. He was a natural, laid-back type, always in collar shirts and slacks. Someone that looked too sweet and harmless, to put her in any danger. She was tired of the tall macho guys. Had enough dealings with them to last her a lifetime.

“Nothing bad, I promise,” Keith smiled back at the woman he hoped to marry someday. “George just wants to see you in his office.”

“Why?” she teased. “Is it time for me to start looking for a new job?”

“Are you kidding.” Keith had to laugh at her statement. “George would never get rid of you. And neither will I.” He squeezed her hand and raised it to his lips to kiss. “He’s in there talking to the new bandleader and wants you to meet him, as well.”

“Have you seen him?”

“Yeah. He seems innocent enough.” Keith shook his head, giving his opinion of the new bandleader. “Nothing too dangerous. We should be okay, this time.”

“That’s good. The last one was something.” She rolled her eyes and pulled her hand from Keith. “I didn’t think we would ever get people back in here.” She pushed herself away from the bar and stood up to meet her entertainment for the month.

George Silverton was the owner of the Club that Jessie has been managing for the past two years. He was a short fat man, barely reaching five feet eight, with a head full of gray hair and the most loving, caring blue eyes you could ever see. He was near his mid-sixties and a retired criminal investigator who was known to judge people carefully. After Jessie’s second failed marriage, she enrolled in a battered woman class and had met George. He taught the class and gave her the job. He was helping her get a good start on life, after hearing about her two marriages to woman beaters. Now, he’s like a father to her. Her birth father, Wade Peterson, had died over four years ago in a gas explosion at the chemical factory where he worked.

As Jessie reached the office door, she heard voices inside, so she pushed her hair back and knocked before entering. “It’s open,” George called out, and she entered. She came to a complete stop in her tracks when her eyes met the eyes of her first husband, Michael Davis. He was still the best-looking man that she has ever seen. He even had the same blond hair and bright blue eyes. He also wore the same western clothes from her past. Down to the cowboy boots and western belt, he wore around the waist of his tight blue jeans. She blinked and re-blinked her eyes, hoping her mind was playing tricks on her by bringing her past to life. But the image of Michael would not go away. She shook her head slowly and moved to turn from the office until George stood up and came to her. “Jessie. Honey.” He smiled at her like a father would and pulled her into the office. He was closing the door behind them, taking the only way out from Jessie as she continued staring at her pass. “This is Mr. Davis,” George went on saying. And at the sound of his name, Michael stood up. Still just as tall as before. If not a little taller. “He’s the leader of this month’s band.”

“Band?” Jessie caught the words that her boss spoke and frowned. Be cool, she told herself, this is some joke. Hell, it must be. Michael is supposed to be in freaking California.

“Yes.” George looked worried at her strange actions. “The Guys Around band that we signed up last week.” He watched as her body grew weak right before his eyes, and she fainted.

“Jessie, don’t,” Michael ordered before he rushed to her side and caught her before she hit the floor. The look on the older man’s face was enough to help Michael decide that he would need to take over. He carried her over to the office couch and laid her down. He brushed her long blond hair back and slightly patted her face. “Jessie?” After getting no responses from her, he looked around for the older man. Catching him running out of the room, hopefully going to get a wet washrag. “Jessie? Baby, wake up.” He patted her face again and begged. “Baby, please, don’t do this to me.” He leaned down and dropped a small kiss on her forehead. “Jessie, please, wake up.” His last pat made her eyes blink, and when they focused on him sitting there beside her on the couch, she jumped up and started to let out a scream. “Don’t scream,” he ordered and put his hand over her mouth. “The last thing we need is for you to scream, you hear me?” She shook her head with still wide eyes staring back at him. When he was sure of her not going to scream, he lowered his hand from her mouth. “Are you okay?” he asked, pushing her hair back from her face.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered back, frowning at him, too scared that someone will hear her. “Why are you here?” She moved to the other end of the couch away from him.

But before Michael could answer her, George rushed back into the room, carrying a cold towel. He shut the door again and rushed to Jessie’s side. “Honey, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. It must have been the heat from outside.” She forced a smile for him and stood from the couch, pushing her hair back from her eyes. “Thank you.” She turned to Michael and held her hand out to him. “It’s nice meeting you.”

“My pleasure, I’m sure.” He smiled and took her offered hand, understanding her distance. He shook her hand and held it in a squeeze longer than necessary. His eyes were smiling back at her. Showing he was pleased to see how grown up she had become. Not to mention, he thought she was still just as beautiful as before, if not more so. God, those eyes, he thought, someone could get lost in them.

“Jessie, here, is my manager.” George broke in on their stare, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, making her pull her hand from Michael. “Funny, but I just realized you two have the same last name. Davis. Any chance you kids are related?”

“No,” Michael answered, quickly, smiling at Jessie as she shook her head, refusing at high speed toward George’s question.

“Anyway, Jessie can run this club like a pro. So, if you have any questions, ask her. I trust her with my life.”

“I’ll be sure to ask,” Michael replied, thinking I use to trust her with my life, too. He watched the old man squeeze Jessie closer to him and dropped a kiss on her forehead when another thought came to his mind. Jessie, his brain took note, to think she is still going by that name, after all these years.

“You do that,” the old man said, showing the love for Jessie in his eyes.

Jessie surely wouldn’t go as far as getting herself a married ’sugar daddy,’ would she, Michael thought, as George pulled her over to the door, out of his hearing.

“I’m going to leave everything to you now,” George said, and Jessie shook her head agreeing. “Go over the contract with him before he signs it.”

“I will,” she whispered, feeling Michael’s eyes on them.

“You sure, you’re okay?” George frowned at the changeover Jessie. She seemed more defensive now then carefree from before.

“I’m fine. Promise,” she assured him with one of her best smiles. “I guess I’m just nervous about running the club.”

“You’ll do fine, honey.” George dropped another kiss on her forehead and gave her a friendly hug. “I have faith in you, but if you do run across a problem that you nor Keith can’t handle, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Things will be fine, George. I promise,” she smiled and raised on her tiptoes to kiss his chubby fatherly cheek to assure him. “You just have fun in Florida.”

“I knew I could count on you.” He gave her one more hug before he turned to wave at Michael and smile. “It was nice talking with you, Mike. Good luck with your plans, and again, I promise you are in good hands here with my Jessie.”

“Thanks.” Michael returned the older man’s smile and met him across the room to shake hands. “You have a good time in Florida, sir. And do take the little lady to those beaches, I was telling you about.”

“I’ll do that.” George laughed back and turned back to the now, confused Jessie. He gave her one last hug and a sweet kiss. “Bye, sweetheart,” he whispered, but not low enough to keep Michael from hearing. “Remember, I’ll have my cell phone with me at all times.”

“I know,” she mumbled back and stared off after him as he walked out of the Club’s front door, leaving his business in her hands. And a nightmare that he doesn’t know anything about. She turned back to the horror and slammed the office door shut, before yelling, “What in the hell are you doing here?”

The Club’s main office was like any other office in a small business, with addition to a one-way looking glass. Giving management free will to observe employees working out in the dining area, without knowing. In return, the employees could not see into the office. There was a medium size desk set in the far back of the room, with a couple of half shelves behind it, topped with file folders, a stack of 500 sheet reams of copying paper: a copy machine and a fax machine. Plus, a couple of framed pictures of George’s family. The desk was topped with the usual items displaying a business desk: a desk lamp, calendar, pencil holder, stapler, and such. Plus, paperwork of the hourly reports of the business. To the right of the room, facing the desk, there were two four-drawer gray file cabinets, with different types of quote magnets on the side of them, and sitting on top was fake greenery and an honor plaque. Besides the file cabinets, was an end table, topped with un-necessary magazines, and an office couch. In the front office corner, sit a matching office chair. The walls were painted a soft cream color, and the lights gave off a soft glow, making the room have a relaxing environment to work.

“And hello to you, too, baby.” Michael grinned at Jessie, as he leaned back against the front of the office desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know, this is not quite what I pictured,” he said, and she passed him a dirty, confusing look before he went on to explain. “I always dreamed that when our path crossed, again, you would run back into my arms, and we would immediately pick up where we left off. Making love and not able to keep our hands off each other.”

“Not a chance,” she said and rolled her eyes at him. “And don’t call me baby,” she snapped, moving away from the office door and marched straight to the office desk and took a seat behind it. Making Michael having to turn to lean on the desk, now supported on his arms, still watching her.

“What’s the deal, baby?” he asked, ignoring her order, still grinning at her. “Are you all fired up because of seeing me? Or because your ’sugar daddy’ is taking the wife to the beaches, instead of you?”

“What?” She was shocked by his words and jerked her eyes up to him and frowned. “George isn’t my ’sugar daddy’. He’s my friend as well as Dory, his wife. They helped me get back on my feet after dealing with jerks like you.” She dropped her eyes from his, knowing that looking into those deep blue eyes was the last thing she needed to do. She pulled one of the desk drawers out like she was looking for something when really, she was trying to find something to distract her from Michael’s eyes on her.

“You sure, I mean,” he remarked, watching her closely, noticing that she was getting nervous. He turned from her and moved over to the office couch to give her some space. “It looked like love to me,” he gave his opinion, taking a seat on the sofa.

“Daughterly!” she snapped back, slamming the desk drawer shut. “Nothing more.” She ran her fingers through her hair before resting her arms on top of the desk. She dropped her head to hide her face in her hands. “God,” she moaned in her hands. “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten up this morning.” She rubbed her eyes in the palm of both hands before she raised to look at him. “Look, let’s get something straight here.” She pushed her hair back out of her eyes and leaned back in the chair. “I work here. Five to six days a week. This is my job. How I stay alive and together, we…” She pointed themselves out. “Will run a professional business, only. There is no hanky panky around here, and there never will be. What we had is in the past. We have nothing today. And nobody here knows or will ever know about us. Got it?”

“Sure thing, Casey,” he said, trying to keep a straight face and using a deep voice, saluting her like she was some drill sergeant. “Or is it Jessie?” He underlined her name with his normal voice, as he pushed down farther on the couch and laid his arms out across the back, grinning over at her from the look she shot him. “I mean, that is what Mr. Silverton called you. Right? I don’t recall him saying ‘Casey’ once.”

“Whatever,” she moaned at his question, shooting him a dirty look. “Let’s just get this started and hope that the month goes fast.” She stood up from the chair and moved over to the file cabinet to flip through, looking for his contract. “Damn it, when is my punishment going to be over?” she hissed under her breath, with her back to him.

“Why, Jessie?” He stood up, too, and moved over to stand behind her. Only inches, having a tough time not to reach out and touch her. He slipped his hands in the front pockets of his tight jeans to avoid the act.

“Because…” She turned to face him but stopped as she found him standing close, real close, to her. She took a deep breath, taking in the same cologne smell from years back and took a step back, before pushing herself to finish talking. “I have a feeling this month is going to be hell,” she said, trying to keep eye contact with him.

“No,” he re-asked his question. “Why are you still going by ‘Jessie’ and not ‘Casey’, after you begged for your real name back at the divorce hearing?”

“Because…” she whispered, then stopped. Not sure about how to answer. Her eyes searched Michael’s face then ran down his body. He was still solidly built, and he was also the same good-looking guy that she had fell in love with fifteen years ago and was married to for seven years.

“You still love me?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts. He raised his left hand to her face and ran his thumb across her lips. “If you do, I understand, because I might have feelings for you still, too.”

“I don’t,” she lied, moving around him, licking her lips. She walked around to the front of the desk, needing to get space between him and took a deep breath. “I tried to go by ‘Casey’, again,” she went on to explain. “But people started looking at me weird. Like, I was crazy when I didn’t answer them. So, I decided to stay with ‘Jessie’. Been used to it for so long, I guess.”

“I see,” he whispered back, not believing her. He followed her steps and moved back to the front of the desk and leaned back against it. “I still think it suits you better,” he volunteered his opinion, crossing his legs at the ankles and his arms over his chest.

“Yeah. Anyway.” She shrugged her shoulders and moved over to the couch and sit down, still needing to be farther away from him, not looking at him, but the papers she held in her hands. “Let’s go over the contract so that you can start tomorrow night.” Michael watched as she studied the documents, avoiding his eyes and letting her hair fall over her shoulder to hide her face from him. “It looks as if George has it where you will get a…” she went on mumbling.

“Jessie?” he moaned out her name, interrupting her. He pushed away from the desk and walked over to sit down beside her. Grabbing her arm when she started to get up from where she sat. “No,” he ordered and took the papers from her, dropping them to the floor. “This stupid contract can wait. Look at me.” She shook her head, refusing to raise her eyes, but closed them tight. “Baby, for this to work, we have to get rid of the tension.” He continued holding onto her arm, and with his free hand, he raised it to brush her hair back from her face and behind her ear. “We need to talk…”

“About what?” She jerked her head up and shot him a frown, jerking her arm from him.

“Us,” he said. “The past eight years. Maybe even our marriage.”

“No.” She shook her head and stood up from the couch, taking a deep breath. “I don’t want to re-live that pain.”

“It wasn’t all bad, baby,” he protested, watching her, leaning back in the couch and crossed one leg up over his other knee. “We had some good times together, too. Like the night we first made love as husband and wife. Back when you first enjoyed it. Even though my parents walked in on us.” He made an unsure laugh. “It was a beautiful night that I will never forget. I didn’t think you would either.”

“I haven’t,” she mumbled, now hugging her arms around herself with her back to him.

“And I remember the day we got married, and we felt that nobody existed, but us,” he said, still watching her closely. “You remember our wedding day, don’t you? We were both nervous as hell, but we wanted to be together.”

“I remember,” she mumbled back.

“And once we were married, we made love every night,” he went on. “I couldn’t wait to get home from work every day because I wanted you. I always thought that you wanted me, too.”

“I did,” she replied.

“And then what about the days we laughed and played with the twins?” He was on a roll, thinking that he was breaking through the tension. “Those kids…”

“Just tell me why, Michael?” she snapped, stopping him from going down memory lane. She dropped her arms and jerked around to face him, giving him a dirty look. The tension was back.

“Why, what?” he asked, raising to lean over on his knees, still watching her.

“Everything,” she snapped back, with a dirty look. “Did you hate me so much that you had to hurt them to get back at me?”

“I never hated you…” he tried to cut in.

“I loved you,” she went on, frowning at him. “But you made that love go away.”

“Correction, sister,” he cut in, again, with raised eyebrows. “You gave it away. To Tony.”

“And you, to God only knows who,” she snapped back, defending herself.

“Just because I couldn’t stand the idea of losing you!” he yelled back, defending himself. “Damn it, Jessie! I came home one day and found you wrapped up in a sheet. And to top that, you smelled like sex.”

“What are you talking about?” she frowned back at him, not remembering the day he was speaking.

“Oh, please,” he moaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t deny it.” He tightened his hands, trying to gain control of his temper.

“I do not deny anything, Michael,” she snapped, crossing her arms, again, noticing his hands tightening up. “I just asked what you were talking about.”

“Let’s just say, I knew about my precious little wife and my so-called cousin before my father’s announcement the morning of Christmas of ‘88.” He waited for her to reply, but when she didn’t, he took a deep breath and stared back at her. She stared at him with no trace of shame in her eyes. He dropped his eyes and pushed his hands over his head and in his hair, as he went on. “I tried to pretend I imagined it because I didn’t want to believe I was losing you. After that didn’t work, I tried to tell myself that you were only doing it to get back at me for sleeping with Ginny. Instead, I lost it, and I paid five years in jail for it.” He raised his eyes at her. She still hasn’t moved from the last time he looked at her. “Those were the longest five years of my life. My thoughts were always on you and what I could have done better. The first three months, I had dreams, no nightmares,” he corrected himself. “About your marriage to him…”

“Tony?” she frowned, stopping him and questioning the word ‘him,’ and he shook his head, replying. “I didn’t marry Tony.”

“You might as well have; you were planning on divorcing me.”

“Who told you that?” she frowned at his words.

“Donna overheard you, telling him your plans,” he said and stood up, making her take a step back from him. He started pacing the office, as he went on talking. “Plus, Dana walked in on you and that bastard fucking in his apartment.” He turned to look at her and slipped his fingers in his back pockets. “All, while my rights were being read to me. Tell me, I’m wrong. That Dana was lying.”

“Is that why, you hurt the twins?” she asked, instead. “Because I was with Tony.”

“I tore the hell out of our room, first, then my music room,” he said, remembering the day his life was over. “I destroyed every machine I owned, with my favorite guitar. You would have thought a tornado went through that room.” His eyes turned hollow as he talked and remembered his actions. “The more I destroyed, the madder I got. God only knows how many times I wished the twins weren’t there.” He looked up at the ceiling, trying to stop the tears that wanted to fall. “They yelled at me to stop, but I didn’t. It was like; I couldn’t hear them. Like, there was a part of me that stood back and watched. I called you everything that I could think of to call you. I slammed that guitar into those machines and cussed you to hell, as sparks flew. I hated you for what you did, but I never stopped loving them.” He looked back at her, and tears rolled down his face. “Ischelle grabbed my arm, still yelling at me to stop, and I turned on her. I hit my baby girl with that fucking guitar, and then I remember grabbing Ashley. Things are blurry after that. I’m not sure what all happened. I know I hurt them, and I have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

“What you did to them was meant for me. Right?” Jessie asked, fighting the tears in her eyes.

“Jessie,” he moaned, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. “You’re not hearing me. I tried to kill them.” He slapped himself on the chest with both hands. “Me. Their father. I beat the shit out of our kids for no fucking reason. I became my father.”

Jessie turned away from him and walked over to pick up the contract. “I guess we can say you did kill them.” She left her back to him and rubbed at her tears.

“Why?” he asked, frowning at her.

“Because.” She jerked around to face him, again, letting her hair fly out around her shoulders. “I haven’t seen them since that day. You had my babies taken away from me.” She glared hateful eyes at him and cried, “And I hate you for that.”

Michael didn’t say anything, just stared back at her, wondering why or if he should believe her. He watched as the tears rolled down her face while she held his stare. The tears convinced him that her words were real. He wanted to hold her but was too afraid that she would reject him and push him away.

After what seemed like an eternity, she broke contact with his eyes and turned her back to him. She looked down at the floor, thinking. She hugged her arms around her body like she was cold and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Taking a deep breath, trying to gain control, and not re-live the pain again. Michael was the last guy; she wanted around if she lost control. In the past eight years, she has had sleepless nights and lonely days because of the twins and of the day she has tried so hard to forget. Just wishing and hoping that she would find news on their whereabouts. She was always wondering why she couldn’t see them or if she ever would see them again.

Michael sensed her pain and moved toward her. He took a big chance as he stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She didn’t pull from him, so he pulled her up against his chest. She was still a good nine inches shorter than him, and he had the feeling he could hold her there forever, without her ever pulling away from him. “I’m sorry, Jessie,” he whispered, against her head, dropping a small kiss in her hair. “I am so sorry.”

“I don’t understand why,” she cried, not moving out of his hold, but now turning around in his arms to face him. His arms around her gave her something that she hasn’t felt in such a long time. Security. Someone was taking charge of the burden on her shoulders. She just hoped they could give her the answers, as well. “They had no business taking my babies from me.” She went on crying against his chest and now holding tight onto his shirt. “I could have cared for them. Give them everything that they would need. I loved them more than anything. Or anyone.” She wiped her eyes off her hands that still held onto his shirt. “I want them back,” she cried harder, soaking his shirt now with massive tears.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t,” he pled, squeezing her tight to him and dropping his head down against hers, trying not to cry himself.

“It’s not fair,” she cried on. “If I knew my life would have been over that morning, I would have never gone to bed the night before.” She stepped back out of his arms and looked up at him, rubbing at her tears. “I never loved Tony, Michael. It was always you. And yes, I was with him the day you came home. But the minute I saw you, I regretted it. It was the first and only time. Until that Christmas, of course, but by then, I figured it was over between us. I felt that you didn’t want me anymore. That everything we shared was over.”

“I’ve always wanted you.” He took her face in his hands and rubbed his thumbs under her eyes to wipe away some tears. “Baby, you meant everything to me. I had no life without you.” He forced a smile for her through his pain. “Didn’t you know that?”

“I guess not,” she whispered, watching his eyes and raising her hands to lay over his on her cheek. “It seemed that there at the end, you only yelled at me or told me to stop bitching. You stopped holding me and telling me that you loved me. What was I supposed to think?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled and pulled her back against him. “I just don’t know,” he repeated, closing his eyes and squeezing her tight to his body, hiding his face in her hair. They stood holding each other for several minutes, not saying a word but enjoying the feel of each other, holding each other, giving them the feel of the twins around. Michael hated it, but he had to know and broke the silence between them. “Baby, I need to know. Why haven’t you seen the twins? I was sure they were back with you.”

“No.” She shook her head slowly, stepping back out of his arms. “I haven’t seen them.” She looked up at him. “I haven’t heard from them or even about them.” She turned from him and rubbed at her eyes, moving over to sit down behind the desk. “The next day…” She watched herself pick up a big paper clip and started playing with it, as she explained. “I called the police department about them. They told me that they knew nothing. That I had to come down and talk to Mr. Harvest about your case.” She brushed aside some loose tears. “So, I did just that, but all he could tell me was that I was on six-week probation. I had to get a job and an affordable place to live, before I could get the twins back.” She put the paper clip down and stood up from the chair. She walked around the desk and started pacing the room, needing to be moving as she remembered the first part of the painful eight years. Michael sat down on the corner of the desk, listening to her. “I did that, too,” she went on. “It took me a few days, but I did what he said. Getting the apartment was easy, but…”

“Why did you need an apartment?” Michael interrupted frowning. “What was wrong with the house?”

She stopped pacing and shot him a funny look. “Are you serious?” she asked, and he just shook his head, like he didn’t know. She stared at him for a second, wondering if she should tell him the truth. “Larry and Linda took the house away from me,” she informed him, thinking if the truth hurts, so be it.

“What?” he asked with raised eyebrows, shocked by her words. “Why?”

“You really don’t know?” she questioned him, looking deep in his eyes for the truth when he shook his head, refusing. She made a small smile and pushed her hand through her hair and took a deep breath. “They took the house back the next day, but they did tell me that I could have everything inside. And gave me a week to get out.” She tried to ease the betrayal of his parents. “They said, they didn’t want anything that I might have used for…” she hesitated, thinking of the right word to use. “Well, I guess we’ll say, ‘entertaining’.”

“Oh, shit,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. “If they only knew. I’m sorry, Jessie.”

“Forget it.” She blew it off with the wave of her hand. “That’s between you and your parents. I did what they said, so my conscience is clear.” She went back to pacing and back to her story. “As I said, I got an apartment, which was the easy part. Money talks, I guess, you know.” He just smiled at her words. “Anyway, the hard part was the job. Everybody told me the same thing. ‘No’,” she mocked the people’s words. “‘You’ll get nowhere in this world, little girl, without a high school diploma.’. It drove me crazy.” She released a frustrating sigh. “Finally, I broke down and begged this man for a job. Cleaning tables at a restaurant and filling coffee and tea glasses. I was willing to do anything.” She turned to witness the frown on his face, with tears in her eyes, and leaned back against the office windowsill. She crossed her arms over her chest and took a deep breath before moving on with her story. “Making money was slow. I lived off the money I made, selling most of our stuff. Momma got a great offer for your car. Something I never understood why your parents didn’t take from me. They took my car, but not yours.” She waited for a reply from him, but when he said nothing and continued listening to her, she went on. “But I didn’t sell it. Memories, I guess. I dropped it off at your parents’ house one night. In the middle of the night, so I didn’t run into them. So, they have it, the last I knew.”

“I have it, now,” he mumbled, licking his lips.

“Oh,” she mumbled back and took another deep breath. “Anyway, I found an apartment, got the job, and then called Mr. Harvest back to tell him my update. He gave me another number to call, to Mr. Fisher, I believe. I called that number, got no answer. The number was disconnected or something. So, I called Mr. Harvest back and was told he was transferred to another location, and they couldn’t give me a number for him. I called every childcare center and welfare office I could find. Nobody knew anything. No, Mr. Harvest. And nothing about Ashley Ann or Ischelle Bryan.” Tears came to her eyes, and she moved to rub them away, still talking. “Things went downhill from there. I lost my so-called job. My boss claimed I looked as if I did drugs because I didn’t get enough sleep and cried all the time.” She forced a laugh through her sad memories. “Once, I tried to take a little girl from her mother because I thought she was Ashley.” She pushed her hand through her long blond hair and sight. “Oh well, what the hell. It took me five years to realize that I lost them and to get my life back together after two failed marriages. The past three years have been good to me. George helped me realize that I was a person, not some animal, for men to kick around. He gave me this job and helped me a lot. He’s like a father I never had.”

After she finished her story, Michael pushed away from the desk and did his share of pacing, with a deep breath intake. “Hell, Jessie,” he moaned, turning to face her and rubbed his hands up over the back of his neck. “I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say,” she replied. “What’s done is done. We can’t change it.”

“I do have one question, though,” he said, staring at her, thinking.

“What?” she asked, feeling tired and starting to get a headache from the conversation.

“What happened to the money I gave you?” he asked. “The account I told you about when you came to the jailhouse. You should have been living off that money, instead of selling our stuff. That’s what it was for, until I…” He came loss of words and shook his head. “Got out, I guess. So, where’s that money?”

“It paid for the divorce,” she said, getting confused.

“All of it!” He was shocked by her words, raising his eyes and frowning at her.

“Yeah,” she mumbled back, feeling as if she did something wrong. “Mr. Jackson waived part of the fees so that I wouldn’t start in debt.”

“What fees?” he asked and took a deep breath to control his temper from where he noticed his voice rising. “Baby, I paid for the divorce, as I told you I would.”

“I don’t know, Michael,” she frowned back at him, not understanding what he was talking about. “I just know that Mr. Jackson said that the 300 thousand you gave me would cover all the divorce fees. Give me my name back, custody of the twins, and cover all filing fees. So, I signed the account over to him.”

“Damn, that son of a bitch,” Michael hissed, pushing his hands up through his hair and then back down over his face. “Once I get my hands on that bastard, I’ll…”

“Mike!” she yelled at him, cutting him off and gave him a dirty look.

“Please, tell me you didn’t,” he moaned, turning from her and looking up at the ceiling, closing his eyes to gain back control of his temper. If he ever got the chance to get his hands on that bastard, he would kill him, he thought to himself.

“What?” she snapped, starting to get mad herself.

“Sweetheart.” He looked back at her and leaned back against the desk. “Let me lay this out for you. To put it bluntly, you gave your fucking lawyer 300 thousand dollars for nothing.” He raised his hand to stop her when she jumped to speak. “Wait a minute. One, you aren’t using your real name. And even if you were, the judge would have granted it back to you without a chunk of money. It only cost me about 300 to have the name changed in the first place. And two, look around, baby.” He motioned his arms around the room for her to look around them. “You don’t have the twins. The state still has custody, and they are God only knows where. And three.” He held his finger up to her, to indicate for her to wait and let him finish if she planned on interrupting. “A contented divorce only cost about fifteen hundred to two thousand. Now a non-contented would start about five thousand. Our so call divorce was contented. I was giving it to you. We agreed to it on mutual grounds. So, to wrap this all up.” He made a circular motion with his finger. “Unless you were divorcing the Roman Gods, which I am not, let me be the one with bad news. Baby, your hotshot lawyer bent you over and raped you, big time,” he informed her and couldn’t help but snickered afterward. “And singing the Jack Pot Party song, afterward.”

“I’m so glad you think this is funny,” she snapped, pushing away from the windowsill and snatched the contract between him and the club up off the floor. “Damn, what an idiot I was.” She moved for her chair behind the desk but stopped before she reached it. “And how do you know all this?” She gave him another dirty look, asking, then changed her mind. “Forget it. Don’t bother answering. We all know you’re Michael. You know everything.”

“Hey,” He grabbed her arm and pulled her over to stand in front of him. He stood her between his legs, holding his arms tight around her shoulders. “To me, it’s just common public knowledge, but that doesn’t matter. I didn’t mean to laugh. I wasn’t laughing at you. I think it’s sad that anyone who we all supposed to count on would take advantage of you like that. You were in a volatile state of mind because of what I put you through. So, if there is anyone to blame, it’s me. And I’m sorry.”

“But, why would he do that to me?” She thought back, holding onto his arms that laid across her shoulders, thinking of Mr. Jackson’s words to her when he agreed to represent her for the divorce.

“You want to divorce the son of the big-time oil well millionaire?” Mr. Jackson had questioned her. “And he’s not fighting against the divorce?” She remembered Jackson had had a weird look on his face, at the time of her asking him to represent her. Now she knows why. “Before I hired him, did he know you? Or anyone from the Davis Family?”

“Our path might have crossed,” Michael admitted.

“Meaning?” Jessie was confused by his words.

“Meaning that Larry had a case against him once, and it didn’t go in his favor,” Michael said, choosing his words carefully. “I guess, after losing the big case, he was determined to get back at Larry.” Michael shrugged his shoulders and went on explaining. “When he heard that I got into trouble, he offered his service and Larry turned him down. I didn’t know he did family law until I saw him with you at the divorce trial. I guess he went through you to get back at us all.”

“What was the case about between him and Larry?” she asked, wondering and still seeing Mr. Jackson approaching her to take on her case.

“I have no idea,” Michael mumbled toward her question, bringing her back to the present and pulling her into a hug. Just love the feeling of her against him. “But don’t worry about it. Or the money. There’s more money where that came from, and you can have it all if you want.”

“No!” she snapped and jerked out of his arms, with a dirty look and pointing her finger at him. “And don’t start thinking that way. There is no us anymore. Just do your job here, as George wants. And let me do mine.”

“It’s going to be hard, Jessie,” he admitted. “I still care about you. I’ll admit that, even if you refuse to. I didn’t want the damn divorce. Can you honestly say, you did?”

“It doesn’t matter what I wanted then nor what I want now,” she protested. “What matters is this stupid contract.” She held the contract up to him and shook it. “George arranged for you to be the club’s live entertainment for this month. I need you to follow through. It’s too late to replace you now.”

“Professional business, only, right?” He forced a smile for her. “You stay out of my way, and I stay out of yours.”

“Right,” she smiled back, moving to the middle of the room, putting space between them. “I have a new life now, Michael. I’m sorry, but you don’t fit into it, and I’m sure I don’t fit into yours. From what George tells me, you’ll be moving on to another state after your shows here.”

“Right,” he mumbled, watching her closely. “I have to be in Tennessee by the middle of next month.”

“That’s great,” she said. “I mean that your music career is going the way you always wanted.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He dropped his eyes from her and stared at his boots, mumbling. “I’m just sorry you’re not a part of it.” When she didn’t say anything, he looked back up at her. “I’m sorry, Jessie. Sorry for everything that went wrong between us. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Forget it.” She waved him off. “I had doings in it, too. It wasn’t all you, but that’s water under the bridge now.”

“Me doing this.” He reached out and took the contract from her. “Can we at least be friends?”

“Yeah. I would like that,” Jessie agreed, shaking her head. “But I don’t want anyone here knowing about us, that we have a past together. I don’t want to answer a lot of questions.”

“I understand,” he said. “It can be our little secret, okay? Hell.” He made a small forceful laugh and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not like we never had a secret between us before.”

“Right,” she said, noticing the noise growing outside the office door. Telling her that a rush-hour was hitting the club, and then a tap came to the office door conformed it. “Yes?” she responded to the tap at the door.

“Jessie?” Michael raised his eyes to the man’s voice at the door. It was the man he had met earlier when he arrived. “We kind of need you, sweetie. Leslie called in, and she’ll be about thirty minutes late.”

“Okay. I’m coming,” Jessie promised, catching the strange looks passing between Michael and Keith before Keith closed the door back. “Go ahead and read over the contract.” She went back to being professional with Michael. “If you have any questions, let me know. If not, sign it and put it back here on the desk. I’ll get it or Keith.” She pointed to the closed door, indicating who Keith was. “He’s the bartender here.” He shook his head, agreeing. She danced for a minute on her feet, knowing she needed to help her workers, but didn’t want to leave things unsaid between them. “I have to get out there and make sure everything goes okay.” She backed up toward the door. “Bye,” she mumbled, blushing a little and rushed out of the office, closing the door behind her.

Michael smiled at her departure, remembering she was a blusher back in her childhood days. God, how he has missed that. “Damn it,” he scowled to himself, hitting the top of the desk. “Why does that girl make me so fucking tongue-tied. Anyone else, I’m cool as a cucumber, but with Jessie Lee, I’m a fucking idiot. Damn, Mike, you can’t still be in love with her.” To his surprise, he answered himself as well. “Yes, I am.”

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