Ch. 45 - Jax
T hump. Thump. Thump.
Jax’s heavy boots hit the side of the wine barrel in time with her racing heart. Perched on the barrel’s lid in the back room of the winery, she listened to the phone ring again through her earbuds. The loud trill echoed through her spine. An entire football stadium’s worth of butterflies flapped away in her stomach.
Was this a mistake?
Had he already gotten over her?
Was she strong enough to say the things she had to say to him?
On the third ring, Jax lost her nerve. Obviously, he wasn’t planning to pick up. She lifted her hand to tap the disconnect button on her earbuds.
“Jax?!” Rico’s voice sounded breathless, like she’d caught him rushing out the door.
“Hi,” Jax stammered, nearly biting through the side of her cheek. He answered! Oh God, he answered.
“You got this!” a faint voice called from Rico’s end of the call.
“Are you, um, busy?” Jax asked. Of course he was busy. It was the middle of a Saturday.
“No, no, not busy at all.”
He waited. A tight, buzzing silence stretched between them.
“I’m sorry!” they both said at the same time.
“I acted like a complete psychopath,” Jax babbled.
“I feel like complete shit,” Rico spoke over her.
They both stopped. Laughed. The tension broke, and Jax let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.
“Me first,” she insisted. She crossed her boots at the ankle. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Rico. It’s just that I . . . I have a lot of baggage. I should have told you.” She looked down at the hole in the knee of her jeans. “That night, I, um, panicked. It wasn’t about you.”
Would Rico think she was a high-maintenance psycho chick? Jax tensed, half expecting him to hang up.
“Whatever it is, Jax, I want to help,” he said. “We can work through it together.”
Those words weren’t a Shakespearean love ballad, but she’d never heard anything more beautiful in her life.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I think I’m ready to talk about it.” It was time. If she wanted Rico to understand her, she’d have to trust him with everything, with Andrew and the darkness he’d left inside of her.
“Whatever you want to share, I want to hear.” Understanding filled Rico’s voice. “But only if you feel comfortable.”
Jax wanted to melt. She wanted reach through the phone and wrap her arms around Rico. Maybe never let go. She swallowed. “Okay, but, um, I’d rather not over the phone. I can drive to your place tonight when I’m done with my shift.”
“I’m actually in Yucca Hills again this weekend.”
Jax almost laughed. Was that Rico’s SUV in the winery’s parking lot after all? If so, why had he stashed it at the winery? She glanced around, almost expecting him to step out from the shelves. Faintly, she heard the humming sounds of power tools from his end of the line. Where was he?
“Can I come by your place tonight?” Rico asked. “What time do you get off?”
“Six, but give me a little time,” Jax answered. “I’ll need to bribe my roommate to find somewhere else to be.” No way was Jax going to confess her big dark secret with Haley interjecting her personal commentary on the situation.
“Actually, I have some dinner plans tonight,” Rico admitted.
“Right.” Jax smiled. She’d heard all about Rico’s upcoming dinner date. “Good luck with that.”
“I think I’m gonna need it. Can I come by around eight?”
“Yeah, that’d be good.” Jax smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. She looked like an idiot. Kind of felt like one, too. And didn’t care at all.
“I missed you,” Rico said.
She had to clutch the rim of the barrel to keep from toppling off. “Me too.”
Silence descended on the line. Jax knew she should hang up. She only had 10 minutes left on her lunch break and a slightly damp PB&J sandwich to wolf down before the second half of her shift. But she didn’t want to end the call. Just hearing Rico on the other end of the line lit a fire deep inside her belly.
“Soooo, how’s our story going?” she asked. They’d originally planned to break it in tandem yesterday, Rico on the Channel 7 broadcast, she in the East County Caller .
Over the past week, however, she hadn’t even been able to pull up her story notes. Just the thought had torn open all the painful memories of working together with Rico, of their late-night phone calls reviewing their progress and the constant stream of texts as they built the story, detail by detail.
Jax had refreshed the KPVM website a million times yesterday, wondering if Rico would run the story on his own. But she hadn’t seen it. Had he been waiting for her this whole time?
“Actually, I’m not running the story.”
His words cut through her, a sizzling, broiling fork of lightening.
“What?” The word was a squawk. “Why not?” she demanded.
Rico took a long, long time to answer. “I looked at everything and the story just wasn’t strong enough to air.”
Jax laughed. No other response was reasonable. “Bullshit. You said it yourself. The mayor is giving handouts to his main campaign donor and trying to shut down one of the most beloved institutions in Yucca Hills. We’ve caught him in a HUGE conflict of interest. It’s a major ethical scandal.”
“This stuff happens all the time. It’s not a story.” Rico suddenly sounded weary.
Jax’s incredulity began to shift into something else. Anger. “Fine,” she snapped. “Whatever. I’ll run it in the East County Caller .”
“No.” The word was a command.
Jax froze on the wine barrel.
“Your story relies on research and support I provided,” Rico said. “You can’t use anything I gave you, which means you can’t run the story.”
Jax could barely breathe. The words out of her mouth were a hiss of pain. “Are. You. Being. Fucking. Serious. Right. Now???”
“It’s not a story, Jax. Drop it.” Another harsh command.
Long pause. More than enough time for all the butterflies in her stomach to drop dead of pesticide poisoning.
“Theo is your friend,” she finally said .
When he spoke again, Rico’s voice was a croak of resignation. “I know.”
Her shock was beginning to dissipate, leaving behind growing, roiling anger. Jax’s feet began swinging again, hitting the side of the barrel with sharp, loud impacts.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
“So, you’re going to just let Mayor Bishop revoke Theo’s permit so he can get rich building some fancy new complex here?” she accused. “What the fuck, Rico?”
His voice was soft but direct. “Don’t run the story, Jax, I mean it.”
In an instant she understood. It all made brutal, terrible sense. The story obviously wasn’t prestigious enough for the great Rico Torres. Nobody in San Diego cared about a little business spat in Yucca Hills. This story wouldn’t propel Rico’s career. It wouldn’t get him any closer to the anchor’s chair he craved. Who cared if he hung Theo out to dry as a result?
But why not at least let Jax run with the story? Tears burned in her eyes. She knew the answer. Because he couldn’t bear to give her any credit for his work. It didn’t matter that her only goal was to reveal the mayor’s double-dealing and help protect The Rose and Thorn. If Rico didn’t run the story, no one could have it.
“I . . . I can’t believe you,” Jax whispered into the phone.
She’d been such an idiot to think she saw something real and good inside of him. To believe he was anything other than a selfish, arrogant son of a bitch who only put himself first.
“Jax, I can explain.” His voice was raw. Pleading. “No. Actually, I can’t. But I need you to trust me on this. Drop the story.”
“Don’t bother coming over tonight,” Jax hissed. She felt far away. In a place of glaciers and razor-sharp icicles.
“Jax . . . ”
She hung up.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Her boots played an angry melody as her tears splashed onto the lid of the wine barrel in a lonesome accompaniment.