“Nothing else makes sense,” I reply, my voice a hushed whisper, as I move my clit against his hand. I’m wet for Riley, but Jesse’s here. “I’ll never have the upper hand; I just want you to treat me the same way he does.” Before he argues, I say, “By that, I don’t mean the same. I just mean… maybe treat me as if you… like being around me.” I exhale, and my head spins as his gaze flashes an emotion I’ve never seen from him before. “You’ve said we’re exclusive, and some days I feel like you look at me like I’m your mortal enemy.” I clear my throat because his eyes are still boring into mine. “Other days, it’s different. Like when you told me about your son, your old friends, and your past. It was nice to feel connected. Like I belonged somewhere when it’s hard to feel any sense of belonging.”
He takes his hand away and steps back. “I’ll never want you the same way he wants you. He has ten of you, Drew. When he said exclusive, he meant between him and me, not him and whatever woman he stumbles into and wants to fuck.” My heart drops. “You’re intuitive. I’ll give you that much. Some days I do fuck up and say more than I want to, but do not mistake his sunny disposition for loyalty.”
Slamming my eyes closed, I remember the first day I met Jesse. Even if I don’t want to believe it, it makes sense. Riley can’t have it all, or else he wouldn’t share a girlfriend. “You told me sometimes fucked up things can become art. Did you mean me or you?”
His narrowed gaze flicks over my body. “You look different than the day I told you that, don’t you?” He folds his arms across his chest. “Some would even say you were a blank canvas. A blank chapter in the middle of a book—waiting for someone or something to ignite you into caring after a lifetime of feeling like… nothing.” He bites his lip, nodding to me. “I did that. I gave you this.”
I clear my throat as tears threaten to spill down my face. I grit my teeth. “Does it entertain you to watch me become the person I was meant to be? Is that it? The coldness stems from my lack of need for you once I’ve figured out my life? Riley might play catch and release with me, like you said, but at least he’s giving me everything I need to survive after he lets me go. All you’re doing is making me feel like I owe you something for sweeping me from the streets.” A salty tear catches on my bottom lip. “And he is using me and has more intelligent, or more beautiful women he sees when I’m not around, and that’s fine because I’m new here, but I’m going to become the woman I want to be with this chance, and if it breaks my heart, it breaks my heart. It will be worth it. I’ve survived worse.” I’m crying real tears now. The kind I can’t hold back. “Paint me however you see fit, Jesse. I’m your blank canvas. Just know, without any doubt, I will be stunning, dangerous art when this is finished because I already care more than you know. I’ve always cared.”
Seconds feel like minutes as he watches me, head tilted, steely gaze narrowed. My heart is pounding, and I feel like I might vomit after standing up for myself, but I let him see all of the emotion so he knows I’m serious. More tears I don’t wipe streak down my face. He licks his lips. “And it’s in times like these that I say more than I want to because you don’t resemble her at all in personality.”
“Who do you mean?” I ask.
“She doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that you mistake my coldness for indifference, and it couldn’t be further from the truth. I care as much as you do, and it’s a curse, Drew.”
“Who isshe?” I raise my voice this time, knowing whatever or whoever he’s talking about is important. “Do you mean the mother of your son?”
“Don’t bring him into this. I fucking care about you, and I wish I didn’t. In fact, I’d love if I could cast you aside in favor of someone else, but now he’s made that impossible and I do want to see you succeed. I want you to be whoever the fuck it is you want to be, and you don’t owe me a damn thing except this.” Jesse’s lips crash into mine and he grabs my head with both hands. The kiss, unlike his words, is possessive. He wants me to know that I mean something to him, and I don’t know how to feel about it. Everything he said rings true; except I still don’t know those to whom he’s comparing me. Who is the woman I resemble in looks that he must hate so terribly? I kiss him back for what feels like forever, and he doesn’t make a move to remove my clothes.
“I’ll leave you for him,” Jesse growls, pushing me back, one hand on my shoulder. “Because you were wrong about one thing. You’re not my canvas to paint anymore. You’re his.”
His eyes tilt down in the corner. Sadness fills the space where he just was, and he leaves me. Breathless and alone. Confusion is something I live with daily, but his actions and words tonight added a new layer to this complex game. I push it down in favor of calling Amy. I know this is the time of night she winds down, and it’s easiest to talk to her and ask for advice when she’s a glass of wine in, without people breathing down her neck. I ask her about the email I sent her to try to gauge how my proposed changes look. Pacing the room, I listen to everything she has to offer while simultaneously worrying about leaving but also staying at the same time.
“Drew, I haven’t met anyone who has picked up on everything so quickly. You’re worried for no reason.” Her television buzzes to life in the background. “Take the trip to Mexico. I’ve heard there are so many different projects with the merger. You might find something else you’d love to do more.”
“I love working with you,” I say, almost whining. “The design aspect of the motel really is something I’m interested in and enjoy doing. It’s not that I’m worried about work, I’m worried about Riley.”
She clears her throat. “What about him specifically?”
“I respect you as a talented woman who knows a lot of things. The most talented woman I’m sure I’ll ever be friends with, but what I need to ask isn’t the most professional thing.”
Amy chuckles. “Please, in my line of work, I’ve heard it all, Drew. I appreciate you thinking so highly of me, but at the end of the day, I’m just me.” She sips her wine loudly and laughs again. “It’s impossible to be professional all the time. What do you want to ask about Riley?” She says his name with a smile, I can hear it.
“I know he has a lot of girlfriends, but will we ever be at the same place at the same time? I’m nervous about going to Mexico and having to share him.”
“Who told you that?”
Just by her tone, I know she’s about to tell me I’m wrong. “I assumed, I guess.”
“Riley doesn’t date more than one woman at a time. That’s not him. It’s never been him. He might be questionable in business and tactics to secure what he needs, but when it comes to women, he keeps it uncomplicated.” I can’t help but laugh but silence myself quickly.
She giggles and takes a loud sip. “That’s Jesse Astor, if we’re being frank.”
What reason would he have for lying and twisting facts? “Oh,” I say. “Riley could have any woman in the world. It’s surprising he wouldn’t just take who and whatever he wants at any moment.” I think of my past life and how Johns treated me. I was a vessel some nights, but other nights I felt like a therapist. Men visited me for a multitude of reasons. Some weren’t getting their emotional needs met with their wives and they’d want to talk for an hour after. High-powered, wealthy men like the Astors must want something different, something I haven’t figured out yet if what Amy is saying is true.
“Did you know Riley’s father met his wife when he was fourteen years old and proposed four years later? They’ve been together since then and haven’t broken up once. They’re sickeningly happy and well-matched.” That’s news and something else to add to the reasons Jesse and Riley are so different. “You’ll meet them in Mexico. I know they’re sorting another side of the family business while they’re there.” She stops talking quickly, giving me just the right amount of info without saying too much on the phone.
“That will be strange,” I say, contemplating meeting them before I’ve fully become the woman I want to be. “How much should I tell them about my past? I want to be well received.”
“We all have a past, Drew. Tell them what you want and be quiet about the rest. You don’t owe anyone answers, or even the truth. Sometimes lies are the greatest protector. In our business, mirage is a miracle. The longer you hang around, the more you’ll see nothing is as it seems.” Amy remains quiet a beat or two. “You don’t have to worry about other women and Riley.” She phrases it in a way that tells me I should worry about Jesse. “He’s invested in you.”
My heart skips a beat, but I don’t want to talk about my feelings with Amy. Emotions correlate to weakness, and weakness in Dirt Downs is a recipe for disaster. Weakness in the A Team must be the same on a larger scale. “I’m not worried. Understanding everything is taking longer than I want it to.” I exhale. “It’s not like I can inject my opinion about anything in my place.”
“What’s your place exactly?” Amy asks. “The way I see it, you have the power.”
I wish, I think. “If you say so.”
“I do.”