She looks at them closely, her eyes softening as they land on Seth. The wary frown in her forehead smooths out. Finally, she gives a determined nod. “Yeah, you know what? I’d love that.”
Seth leans forward.
Jace holds up a hand and mouths easy at Seth. Like Seth’s planning to full-on tackle her then and there.
Seth scowls, turns his attention to the woman. She slides out of the booth, bag in her hands, and slips in beside Jace.
Jace gives her space so as not to crowd her. With an extended hand, palm up, he makes introductions. “I’m Jace and this is Seth.”
“Jenny,” she says, pulling the sleeves of her cardigan down around her hands.
“Jenny, huh?” That earns Seth another kick under the table from Jace, who shoots him an act-normal glare.
“Well, Jenny.” Jace crosses his arms behind his head. “What brings you here today to this lovely culinary establishment?”
“A bus,” she quips, and Jace throws his head back and belly-laughs, causing a bright beam of a smile to grace Jenny’s face. “Honestly, a burger, fries and a Coke. I’m so hungry I could eat a horse. Is that wrong?”
Jace nods in agreement. “Not at all. I mean, go big with the lunch order or go home, right?”
Seth lets Jace make the conversation, taking the opportunity to clock the woman’s face. In his head, he conjures up the ghost of Sal. His best friend; his brother’s everything.
It’s like looking into a time machine.
The woman’s hair is a dark brown like Sal’s used to be. And it’s long, waterfalling down to the middle of her waist, like she hasn’t had a trim in a good few months. The dress she wears is frayed and thin. Like the woman herself. While Sal was always slight, she was never this, never skin and bones. But her eyes, man. They’re the same eyes. Big green bottomless pools. Sal had eyes that could see right through you. See your soul, see your bullshit. The only thing missing is the feisty sparkle that lit her up inside. The happy that held Luke’s heart so hard.
Seth’s eyes move to the wedding ring on her hand. It’s big and clunky. Fake as shit.
The ring Luke had given her was a thin silver band studded with diamonds. Back when they were young, when they married, his brother had felt bad, felt that it was too small even if it was all he could afford at the time, but Sal had loved that ring.
His eyes still on her hands, it hits him then how he can ID her. She and Luke had matching tattoos on their palms. But Jenny sits with her palms clasped like she’s waiting for a church sermon.
Frustrated, Seth’s attention drifts back to her face.
What he sees next boils his blood. On the inside of her pale throat, finger-sized bruises stand at attention. Seth’s fists curl beneath the table. Someone hurt her. Even worse, if this is who he thinks it is, someone hurt Sal.
Their Sal.
Trying to talk himself down, Seth releases his fists. As he comes back to the present, he’s aware the woman’s speaking to him. He’s also aware Jace is silent, his eyes serious once again, and Seth wonders if he believes him now.
Jenny gives him a curious smile. “So, Jace was saying you two are musicians?” She nods at the fiddle case in the booth next to Seth and reaches for her coffee. It’s black. The way Sal liked it. Sal drank coffee like a fish. It was the fuel to her fire.
Seth nods. “We are.”
Tilting her head, Jenny spins her butter knife around on the tabletop. “Are you famous?”
“God help us.” Jace chuckles.
“Once upon a time,” Seth mutters, damn near ready to jump out of his skin. He keeps trying to get a look at her palm and the tattoo that lives there, but she keeps drawing the cardigan sleeves down over her hands.
Drumming her thin fingers on the sticky tabletop, she asks, “Where’s your next gig?”
Beside her, Jace stiffens. The look he shoots Seth says he’s buying it—he’s all in.
Seth’s grip on the edge of the table is viselike. It’s Sal. It’s got to be. Gig. It’s a word people in the business use. Newbies call them shows, concerts. Gig is industry lingo. Sal knew that.
Seth’s head’s on a fucking swivel. The woman’s off, confused, but looks-talks-walks like Sal. A thousand questions zip through his head. If she’s Sal, then why is she here? How in the hell has she been surviving all this time? Why is she miles from Nashville, calling herself by another name, with a different ring on her hand, seeming so unlike herself, so very lost?
Something’s wrong. Really goddamn wrong.