Chapter Forty-Three

Jesse ran off the stage to applause and shouts of BRAVO! It hadn’t been a perfect performance, but it was close.

“What an opening night!” Lawrence called from the wings. He ran to greet her, embracing her tightly for just a moment. “You were wonderful, Jessica, absolutely wonderful.”

“Great job, Jess,” one of the other performers said as he ran by.

“Way to go, Jess,” added a second.

“Thanks. You too, Ross,” she called back.

Jesse headed backstage to change. Lawrence had planned a cast party at the elegant Copley Plaza. As she threaded the labyrinth leading to her dressing room, he fell into step beside her. She didn’t mind. Jesse had grown very fond of Lawrence. He wasn’t young, but he was a commanding figure, tall and handsome in a distinguished way, with an infectious charm and warmth that she found appealing. He had a wonderful sense of humor, always saying something clever or witty when she needed it most. And he’d been so kind after the miscarriage. Her time with him was a welcome relief from the dark moments when she’d despair over Matt or guilt about the miscarriage consumed her.

And she needed his support more than ever. Dani had disappeared shortly after it happened. Jesse had knocked on her door one night and she wasn’t home. Her friend had disappeared with no word and no forwarding address. Jesse was mystified and hurt. But, with the show opening in Boston, she would have had little time for Dani.

As Lawrence and Jesse headed down the narrow walkway, well wishers continued to congratulate them both.

“Does it seem possible that six months ago you were at Jordan Hall, singing that beautiful song?” he asked when they reached her dressing room.

“No,” she answered, feeling giddy and faint. “It doesn’t. It’s like a dream. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up.” she turned, opening the door as emotion swept over her. “I second-guessed myself so many times when I walked out on stage that night, thinking I’d make a fool of myself.”

Lawrence took her hand, squeezing it for a moment. “It was the most incredible performance I’ve ever seen. So many things could have gone wrong. You took an incredible risk, and it paid off.”

“It did, didn’t it?” she agreed, part of her still in disbelief at her incredible good fortune. “I should get changed.” Jesse added, slowly taking her hand from his.

“Get changed. I’ll have the car at the stage door. Don’t keep your admirers waiting.” He headed toward the exit. There was something in the way he carried himself. Jesse followed him with her eyes, a smile working its way across her face. She knew he’d become infatuated with her. She didn’t mind because she felt the same way about him.

****

He watched her at the cast party, moving gracefully through the suite. She seemed to float, stopping and greeting each small group as if she were the hostess. That was fine. Lawrence welcomed the idea.

He remembered the difficult days when she’d arrived, plagued by one thing after another. But tonight, he wanted her to enjoy her success, to revel in it. No one had worked harder to master her craft. In four short months, despite all the setbacks and the physical problems, she’d become the consummate professional. As he turned to find Liz, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Lawrence, I’d like you to meet my mother, Alice, and my daughter, Alexis.”

“Mom, Ali, this is Lawrence Webb.”

He and Alice shook hands. Lawrence bent his tall frame to speak to Ali. “Why this is a pleasure, Alexis. May I call you Ali?” Ali stood mute, smiling and nodding. “I’m so very glad to meet you. Your mother has told me so much about you. She’s always talking about how smart you are and what a good girl you are.”

Ali slid behind her grandmother’s leg, but she beamed as she peeked out from behind Alice’s skirt.

“Mr. Webb, I don’t know where to begin. How can I ever thank you for having faith in my girl? You’ve given her—all of us—a whole new life.” Alice extended her hand and pumped his again.

“I didn’t do anything, Mrs. Long. Jesse deserves the credit. She worked day and night to become the performer you saw tonight.”

Jesse blushed.

“Don’t believe a word of it. If he hadn’t taken a chance on me, I’d still be doing nightclub gigs and scales in front of John’s piano,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently..

After a few more accolades, Lawrence excused himself and went to find his sister. He’d invited her and Terry as a thank-you for introducing him to his Naomi.

He found her across the room.

“Well, brother, this is quite a spread. If tonight’s any indication, I think you’ve got another hit on your hands.”

“I owe it all to her,” he nodded in Jesse’s direction, “and to you. Her drive and talent has elevated this whole production.”

Liz nodded. “You’re right. How did the other cast members take to having a young unknown thrown into their midst?”

“All right—after they saw what she could do. With the exception of Ian, of course. But he’s always been a pain in the ass. If I paraded in Sarah Brightman or Liza Minnelli, he’d still find something wrong. I can keep him in check and he’s a brilliant director.” Lawrence nodded at Ian, who was subtly fondling one of the chorus girls. “He deserves a lot of credit.”

“My God, Larry.” Liz smiled at Jesse. “If you wrote this in a novel, nobody’d believe it.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry Terry couldn’t come.”

“Me too. He’s got some malpractice thing that’s been consuming twenty hours a day.”

“Well, Lawrence.” Liz patted him on the back as she headed for the door. “This old girl has had enough champagne for one night.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow and congratulations again!”

“Sounds good.” He gave her a wave.

It was after two a.m. The crowd of well-wishers and cast members had dwindled. Ian waved good night, his hand strategically placed on the attractive dancer he’d been pursuing.

“Goodnight, Ian.” Lawrence smiled.

He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder.

“It looks like we’re alone,” Jesse said looking at her watch. “And it’s very late.”

“It’s all right. I know the producer. You can be late for rehearsal. You were quite the hostess.”

She smiled at his compliment.

“You’ve come a long way in a few months, Jessica.”

“Thanks. I owe it all to you.” She reached up as she pulled him to her, kissing him on the cheek. “And could you call me Jesse. Jessica sounds so formal. I think we’re beyond that, aren’t we?” she asked, looking at him with those beautiful blue-green eyes.

He had the irresistible urge to do what he’d wanted to for months—take her in his arms and kiss her till she was breathless. He resisted, knowing what that would mean.

“Of course…Jesse.” He touched her shoulder. “I think I’ve had too much champagne. This old soldier had better go home.”

“I don’t think you’re a soldier and you’re certainly not that old.”

He felt himself blushing.

She smiled, looking at him in a soft, special way. There was affection and admiration, but there was more in that look and he was glad.

“Share a cab?” she asked. “I’ve got a great job. I’ll even pay.”

They laughed.

It had been a magical night. As they left the suite, Jesse took his arm, putting her head on his shoulder. When she did, Lawrence stopped. He’d had his share of beautiful women, but this was different. It wasn’t just that she was very young and incredibly talented. He knew she’d been through her own private hell. Jesse had never told him about her life. She didn’t have to. He’d read it in her face in brief unguarded moments. No, this would be no casual fling, but he didn’t care. He’d found someone very special, the someone he’d been searching for.

Jesse looked up at him, embarrassed and unsure. “What’s wrong?” She put her hand over her mouth.

“Absolutely nothing.” He took her arm and she relaxed. It wasn’t the excitement of opening night, or the flush of champagne. Adrenaline and alcohol had no part in this. Lawrence needed something—someone, and he’d found her. That someone was Jessica Long.

****

At the intersection of Arlington and Boylston Streets, Matt sat in a taxi with Dave Jenkins after a night of bar hopping, trying to forget what else was happening in Boston that night.

He turned, staring absently out his window. He’d had too many Scotches chased by too many beers. Another lost night. Maybe Allen and Stephanie were right about his drinking. He thought of their time at the Drake Hotel. Maybe life wasn’t so bad after all. He wanted to call and tell Stephanie he missed her.

“Hey, Matt,” David pointed. “Whoa. Check out the babe coming out of the Plaza. Jeez, what a piece of—” He choked on his words, realizing the beautiful woman was no stranger. Matt followed his eyes.

“Damn,” Matt whispered. “Hey, driver, pull up over there,” he ordered, pointing to the cab stand in front of the Plaza. The man complied.

Matt pushed open his door before the cab stopped, throwing a ten dollar bill at the driver. He got out just in time to see Jesse getting into a cab with a tall, distinguished man he recognized. As the man bent down to get in, he saw her smile, kissing the man as she pulled him inside.

“Son of a bitch. Hey…hey, you…wait!” he called after them as the taxi pulled away, its passengers happily ignorant of his pleas from the sidewalk.

David exited the cab, too. Matt heard him running to catch up. He stopped and put his arm around Matt.

“Hey, buddy, you okay?” he asked.

Matt watched the taxi cross Boylston. It was at St. James, slowly moving out of sight as it took a right and headed toward Mass Avenue. Son of a bitch, Matt thought. He’s taking her home.

“Yeah, Dave, I’m fine. Just fucking fine.” He forced a laugh.

“Wasn’t that…her?”

“Yeah.” He followed the taxi with his eyes hoping his thoughts might bring her back to him. “Yeah, Dave, that was her.”