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Zach Jameson
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"SO, MAN, WANT TO TELL me about the other night? You've been kind of scarce lately if you catch my drift."
Zach looked up from the massive stack of papers he was going through. Matt was standing in the doorway of his home office, leaning against it with a smirk on his face. Zach rolled his eyes and motioned for Matt to get inside and close the door. It was true that they were out of the public eye, but that didn't mean their conversation couldn't be overheard. There were plenty of people working in his home, none of whom he trusted any more than he trusted Jane, much as he liked them all. Matt was the closest he came to trust, and that was something that had been earned through trial by fire. Still, there were some things he wasn't willing to talk about. What had transpired between him and Betty in the back of the limo fell squarely into that category.
“What’s up, Matt?” he asked evenly, setting his stack of papers aside.
“What do you mean, what’s up? I told you what’s up. I’m just wondering what’s going on.”
“Nothing much. I’m just trying to keep up with all of this work. I do actually work, you know, contrary to popular belief.”
“Right, I get that, but this is unusual even for you. You haven’t left your place since you took Betty out and that was almost two weeks ago.”
“What do you really want to ask me, Matt? I don’t think it’s about my social habits.”
“I’m just wondering what gives.”
“Nothing. Nothing gives. If you’re asking me for details about the time I spent with Betty, you won’t get any. I’m a gentleman, my man.”
“Are you now?” Matt asked with one eyebrow raised.
"Good point. I'm a gentleman when it comes to her."
Matt nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer. Unfortunately, it was the only one Zach could give without telling a flat-out lie. He hadn't always been the best when it came to his interactions with women, something he legitimately regretted now. He would have taken it back if there was any way to manage it but instead he would settle for not acting like a prick now.
“Okay, boss, I get it. Can I ask you something else?”
“You sure are full of curiosity today, aren’t you?”
"Not just today, Zach my boy, every day."
"What is it?" Zach asked impatiently. He had work to get done, and that was part of it, but that wasn't what was really eating him. He had a feeling Matt was going to bring up something he didn't want to talk about, and that was what was eating him. Not to mention the fact that he'd been on edge basically the entire time since he'd watched Betty hurry up the front steps to her apartment building and into its foyer where he couldn't get to her anymore. He wasn't used to having something he wanted that he couldn't have whenever and wherever he felt like it. Since he was a boy, the world had essentially been at his fingertips. He wasn't used to being denied, not of anything. It probably wouldn't have been that bad if he hadn't wanted her so much. If he were being honest with himself, he probably wouldn't have loved it just because he wouldn't be getting his way, but it wouldn't have been that big of a deal for very long. The problem was, he couldn't get her out of his head. In the almost three days that had elapsed, he figured he'd spent ninety-five percent of his time thinking about her and the things they had done together in the backseat of his car. Christ, he couldn't even ride in the damn thing without getting hit with a barrage of flashbacks. That was something he had never experienced before, and it made him cranky as all hell. Which, apparently, he was going to take out on his friend.
“Woah, man, I’m not trying to piss you off.”
“I know,” Zach answered, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. What is it?”
“I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”
“Awesome. Tell me anyway.”
“Well, I was just kind of wondering if you’ve been paying any attention to those crappy tabloids the past couple of days. Or, I don’t know, maybe watched any tv?” Zach watched Matt’s face carefully. He noticed with some amount of dread that his friend wasn’t interested in making eye contact, which didn’t exactly fill him with confidence.
"No, as a matter of fact, I haven't. I try to avoid them all on general principle." Zach chose his words carefully and made sure to speak in a slow, measured voice. He didn't want to fly off the handle and with the way he was feeling right now it was a distinct possibility.
“Yeah, I kind of figured that. I hate to bring this up, brother, but there’s kind of been a lot about you lately. You and Betty, you know? All of those pictures the vultures snapped of the two of you?”
“I thought that might be what you were getting at. How bad?” Zach asked the question with emotions he could only describe as mixed. This was what he had been going for. Having himself and Betty linked together and splashed all over the media was the quickest way to deliver the message that he and Lucille were never going to happen in a lasting, final kind of a way. On the other hand, he was fully aware of the shitstorm that was likely to rain down on him in light of the perceived slight towards Lucille and her family. Also, it was only just occurring to him that said shitstorm was very likely to come down on Betty’s head, too. He felt like a moron for never having considered that aspect of things before and had no idea what he was supposed to do about it. Maybe he should warn her, he probably he should, but he didn’t want to run the risk of her chickening out and pulling out of their deal altogether. He wasn’t a man used to feeling this level of indecision, either, and it made him more pissed off than ever.
"Depends on what you consider bad. Everyone's talking about it, I'll say that. And the chick's parents have gone on record as saying they can't believe you would hurt their daughter this way."
“Lucille’s parents said that?”
“That’s right.”
“And what about Lucille?”
"Nothing. All quiet on that front. Your dad is pretty pissed, though. In fact, I'd say that's kind of an understatement. He's pretty fucking livid if you want to know the truth."
“I’m sure,” Zach said grimly, thinking about the last time he’d seen the old man. “I’m sure he is.”
“What do you want to do about it?”
“Do?”
"Well, sure. You want me to set up a meeting or something?" Matt asked uncertainly as if he himself didn't know what he was really trying to say.
“Nope. I don’t need you to do a damn thing. In fact, I think you should take the night off.”
“Wait, what? What do you mean, take the night off? Are you doing something?”
“I’m going to see Betty tonight. Taking her on a second date, if you can believe it.”
Matt looked so shocked that Zach had to laugh. First of all, Matt never took a night off if Zach was going out somewhere. He was the driver, but most importantly he was the bodyguard. He was the line of defense between Zach and any lunatics out there who might want to get at him for one reason or another. Then there was the idea of the second date. It was atypical for Zach to describe anything as a date, usually sticking with the "hanging out" euphemism that did all the explaining required. The details Zach had given Matt about his thing with Betty were spotty at best, but there was no way to keep his friend from knowing something was up. The two of them had spent too much time together to leave Matt being totally in the dark even a possibility. Plus, there were Matty's own feelings about the new prospect.
“Man, I gotta be honest with you, I like her.”
“I know you do,” Zach said with his first genuine smile of the day. “I think you’ve said as much before.”
“I just thought saying it again was a good idea. You know, in case you start thinking anything stupid.”
“Come on, Matt.”
"I know, none of my business. I'm just saying, she seemed like a pretty awesome girl to me."
“Good. I’ll make sure to remember that.”
"Yeah," Matt laughed, "sure you will. Are you sure you don't want me to drive you guys, though? I don't know about doing something like that, especially with all of the shit that's going down right now. If you were ever in need of somebody watching your back, I think it's probably now."
“With all due respect, Matt, I’m not asking your opinion. I’m telling you that I’m doing this one on my own.”
“Fine, okay. I got you. Do you mind telling me why, though? Like I said, with everything going on–”
“C’mon. You saw the way things went down last time.”
“You’re right, I did. That’s exactly my point. It could be like that again. It’s likely going to be worse.”
“We need to remember that this whole circus isn’t what she’s used to, Matt. Can you imagine what that must have been like for her? Being surrounded that way?”
"I don't know. I guess I didn't think about it."
"Right, neither did I. I think it was a mistake. If she's not already miserable, I need to think about what she might actually enjoy. I don't want her to think I'm just a complete ass, you know?" He was disgusted with himself when his voice cracked a little at the end of his question. At least Matt had the good grace to pretend not to notice. It also had the added benefit of making his friend uncomfortable enough to drop the subject, for which Zach was more than a little bit grateful. He waited for Matt to leave him alone again and attempted to get back to his mountain of work. It only took a couple of minutes for him to understand that wasn't in the cards for him today. He couldn't do anything while he was thinking about Betty, which meant he couldn't do anything at all. He gave up, put on some tunes, and waited for when he could pick Betty up for a second go of things.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“HEY! WOW, LOOK AT YOU!” Betty exclaimed as she faltered on the stairs of her apartment building.
“I’d rather not,” he laughed, “I see me often enough.”
"Sorry, I just didn't expect to see you behind the driver's wheel. To be honest, I wasn't even sure you could drive." Her face blushed prettily then, and his heart jumped in his chest. How the hell she was able to make his body do that, even after he'd already had her once, was totally beyond him. It was also undeniable. There was no point in him even trying.
“Believe me,” he smiled, wanting only to put her at ease, “you aren’t the only one with doubts. I won’t blame you if you don’t want to get in the car. You wouldn’t be the first one for that, either.”
“No!” she said a little too loudly, then blushed all over again, “No, I wasn’t trying to say that. I want to go. I mean, you know, I’m going to come. I said I would.”
Zach nodded at her and reached over to open the passenger side door of his vintage Ford Mustang. He didn’t do a lot of driving, not as much as would have liked to do, but cars were one of his passions. He liked what they represented, the iconic Americanism of them. Currently, he was secretly almost sick with anticipation over what she would think. When she let her hand trail softly over the light blue paint job of its exterior, he could have grabbed her and kissed her right there. He cleared his throat and fiddled with the radio instead, not even close to being ready to say anything so stupid as that to this woman he still hardly knew.
“You know, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
“I’m not breaking our agreement, Zach. Unless you’ve decided you aren’t interested anymore. Is that what you’re trying to say?”
"What? No! Come on, Betty, I'm not saying that at all. It's not all about that, you know. The arrangement." She didn't answer him, but she didn't look at him, either, which caused a momentary surge of annoyance in Zach bordering precariously on anger. She always had to bring it back to that, didn't she? It was like she either refused or didn't remember that he had tried to take her out the way normal people did it. The whole arrangement idea had only been a last resort, both because he didn't think she would let him give her money for getting her fired and because there was no other way he was going to get her to spend time with him. He wanted to remind her of all of that, get the facts laid out straight on the table, but he kept his mouth shut. Saying any one of those things would have been the fastest way to end this second date before it ever got the chance of getting off the ground.
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“Could you say that again?”
“I said I’m sorry,” she answered a little louder, her forehead wrinkling with displeasure, “I shouldn’t keep going back to that. You’ve already asked me not to. I don’t know why I keep bringing it up.”
"I heard the sorry part; I just wanted to hear you say I was right again." He grinned at her, watching her face fill with understanding. He was messing with her, and she finally laughed, punching him lightly on the shoulder.
“Don’t get used to it, okay? I doubt you’ll be hearing it from me very often.”
"I'll take what I can get. Now, tell me, Ms. Ingrid, are you hungry or should we work up an appetite?" He raised one eyebrow suggestively, and she rolled her eyes.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay? Why don’t we start with dinner and go from there?”
"Alright, fair enough. Hope you like pizza. As a matter of fact, if you don't, we might as well call the whole thing off."
Betty laughed and assured him that not only did she like pizza, but it was one of her top five favorite foods to eat. He told her it was a good start and she smiled, letting one of her fair, slim hands trail out of the open window as he pulled out into the street. The two of them did very little talking as Zach drove, but it was the kind of silence a person looked for: the kind of silence he could only describe as comfortable, and it was something he had believed, up to this point, only existed between people who had been together for a long, long time. And that was if a relationship ever got to that point at all, which Zach believed to be rarer than people liked to admit. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, the inevitable let down that came on a second date after one realized the extreme chemistry from the first date had been nothing more than a fluke. The fact that the second date was part of a contract he’d rigged up only made that sense of dread more acute. It didn't happen. In fact, it was quite the opposite. The longer he was with her, the more he wanted to be there, and by the time they were halfway through dinner, he was feeling nervous over how much he liked her.
It helped that she was so thrilled by what he'd planned for the two of them. Just the two of them in a pizza joint which looked so run down on the outside that it was rare for anyone but him to step foot through its door. They learned that both of them were fans of the simple, classic pepperoni pizza which, along with a couple of beers to wash it down, felt beyond satisfying. It was perfect. Or, to be more specific, almost perfect. The only thing troubling him was the strange look that came over Betty's face about halfway through their meal.
“What’s the matter? Too much grease for you?”
“Um, no. Actually, I don’t know.” She frowned and put one of her hands on her belly. He looked at her a little more closely and saw that she was breaking out into a light sweat. As if she could hear the thought passing through his mind she ran one of her palms across her head. He saw that she was shaking.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I don’t know. You’re going to think I’m lying,” she said with a little tremble in her voice.
“I doubt it. Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”
"It's just...I'm not feeling so hot all of a sudden. I feel pretty awful, actually. I don't know what's wrong. It came on all of a sudden."
“Well, not that you don’t still look beautiful, but you’re also looking pretty pale. Why don’t you let me take you home?” He didn’t want to make the offer. Not because he minded taking care of her because he was rather glad for the opportunity to show her that he could be a good guy. He didn’t want their evening to be over, though. He wanted to be around her for as much time as he could soak up. He was half hoping she would say it wasn’t anything she couldn’t shake off when she nodded her head gratefully.
"I'm so sorry, but I think that would be the best idea. It only seems to be getting worse, and kind of quickly."
“Alright, sure. Of course.”
“I’m so sorry, Zach, really. You must think I’m making it up or something.”
“No, I don’t think anything like that. And that’s enough apologizing. Let’s just get you home.”
Zach left enough money for the bill and a substantial tip on the table, then escorted Betty out to the car. By the time he got her back to her apartment she was wobbly on her feet, and he insisted on taking her up to her apartment, then tucking her into bed.
“Seriously, you don’t have to do this. I’m fine, okay?” Her face was flushed, whether with fever or embarrassment he couldn’t quite be sure.
"You don't look fine, actually, and I'm not easily convinced once I've decided to do something. It'll be easier for everyone involved if you let me do this." Zach smiled down at Betty, and although she rolled her eyes in return, she also gave him a weak smile back. Even feeling so sick the way she was, he was shocked by how much he wanted her. He'd done the gentlemanly thing and turned around while she slipped out of her clothes and into a nightshirt, and it had been all he could do to keep from peeking. He could still see her laying underneath him in the back of his car, and it was a difficult image to ignore. There was something else, too, something he was completely surprised by. He didn't just want her; he wanted to protect her. He wanted to take care of her, and if that wasn't the damnedest thing, he didn't know what was.
"I'm sorry, Zach," she mumbled sleepily, her eyes already half-closed, "I know you told me to stop saying that, but I am. I didn't want this one to be over. I wanted to stay."
He said nothing in return, just sat on the side of her bed quietly and watched her slip into a fitful sleep. When he was sure she was out, he crept into the other room and settled down onto her couch. She hadn't asked him to stay, might be pissed when she woke and found him still there, but he couldn't leave. If there was any chance at all that she might need him, he wasn't going anywhere.
