Confessions of a Bad Boy(30)

I feel my face heat as Robinson slaps me on the back, chuckling loudly at my expense, but I also notice that the tense pressure hanging over the table has faded into a wine-fueled glow of amusement that wasn’t there before. I flash Jessie a grin and raise my glass to her. She lifts her drink too and winks, this time just for my benefit, this time with a little pout in her lips that’s more than friendly.

Or maybe I’m just too drunk.

Deep into the night, people start filtering away from the table. Some go to their rooms, some go back to the bar to carry on drinking, the rest are too busy engaged in intense, private conversations to even notice. Then I get a text from Kyle giving me shit for the new Bad Boy video I just uploaded- “Restraint, dude? Never thought I’d see the day! Who is she?” Panic hits me. Instead of writing back, I turn my phone on silent mode so the guilt won’t take over every time my phone buzzes. I’ll have to come up with a good explanation for Kyle later, maybe blame my blue balls on being at a ‘professional’ work event all weekend.

“You tired?” I say to Jessie, after we’ve been staring at each other and smiling in the buzz of the alcohol.

“I dunno,” she shrugs, before taking another sip.

“Wanna take a walk? Get some fresh air?”

“Sure.”

We get up and move away from the lights under the canopy, into the dark night and the citrus trees and grapevines surrounding the retreat. Where even the air seems intoxicatingly filled with aromas. We take a small path that gives us a view of the mountains, silhouetted against the deep indigo sky, and soon we can’t even see the lights of the retreat anymore. We step slowly, not really caring about getting anywhere, just enjoying the moment, the crunch under our feet, the sound of insects making music in the dark.

“You were pretty fantastic back there,” I say after a while.

Jessie laughs suddenly with surprise.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Everybody loved you. I mean, I was a little worried. You’re younger than them, new here, and these aren’t the easiest people to impress. But you did. What was that Tom was saying?”

Jessie laughs again.

“He was talking about how I’d be perfect for a supporting part in a film he’s making. I don’t think he was being serious.”

“I think he was. Tom’s not the kind of guy to say stuff like that and not mean it – even when he’s drunk he’ll hold you to a deal.”

“I don’t know…I’m no actress.”

“You could have fooled me back in there.”

“That wasn’t acting,” she says, going serious. “It was just…me.”

We carry on walking a while as the path curls around, savoring the smells, the silence, the slight edginess of being in the dark.

“It’s weird,” I say suddenly, my thoughts spilling out of my mouth.

“What is?”

“You. Them. All of it.”

“How is that weird? I don’t understand.”

“I used to think of you as a little girl. The one who hangs around. The one who’s always a few years away from knowing the things that I know. But today…today it’s like we’re on an equal footing.”

“You mean you can’t look down on me anymore?” Jessie teases through a smile.

I take a deep breath, wondering if it’s the wine, the night air, or…something else.

“It’s just weird that…sitting at that table, it’s so obvious how smart and talented you are. How dedicated you are. How much you belong at the top of your field. And yet, you’re the only one at that table who isn’t…what does that say about this industry?”

Jessie snorts a laugh, but I can hear the note of sadness buried under the dismissal.

“It says what people like me have known for a long time; that Hollywood – the world, even – isn’t fair.” Her voice trails off, and I can sense I’ve hit a nerve.

“Maybe so. But you’re great at what you do, and you deserve better than where you’re at, and someday it’s all gonna work out, Jessie. I know it. It’s my job to know these things.”

She hides behind her hair a little, suddenly shy. “That’s just the drink talking.”

“No. No it isn’t. If I was sober I might not be saying it – but I’d still be thinking it.”

We follow the path a little longer as it brings us back towards the pool, tucked around the corner from the dining table, which is now empty. The last waiters are wiping down the wine stains and heading inside.

Jessie stops and looks up at the stars, smiling. I gaze at the softness of her throat, the feminine arc of her shoulders, suddenly experiencing the wooziness of the alcohol once again.

“It’s such a pretty night,” she says wistfully.

“You want to stay out a little longer?”

Jessie looks at me. “I want to go for a swim.”

“Are you serious?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

It’s the kind of spontaneous suggestion Jessie used to make all the time when we were kids. I immediately feel like I’m a teenager again, being dragging into trouble by Jessie’s sense of adventure. But just like I used to back then, I’m only pretending that I don’t think it’s a good idea to get into a little mischief.