Chapter 22 Hestia
HESTIA
As I entered the restaurant that evening for Lil’s leaving drinks, what sense of calm I’d had earlier in the day was rapidly evaporating.
In a little over twenty-four hours, Jesse was going to ride a bull with a broken wrist and barely a fuck left to give. And maybe, if he didn’t get fucking trampled to death or break his neck, Chrissy would be all too happy to celebrate with him.
Despite the after-effects of my last hangover, I ordered a double whiskey, dead-eyeing the barman as he asked what mixer I wanted with it.
Looking round the room, a smart, post-work banker bar in the City, I had a sudden pang for the bars in Jackson.
The lack of pretentious voices and conversation; the easy-going, emotive country music that gave a depth and a vibe difficult to describe but impossible to forget.
I knocked back the drink in one as the barman handed it over, tapping my card on the payment machine as I finished, the heat of the whiskey searing my mouth and throat.
‘Another?’ he asked, his eyebrows raised, eyes flicking over my tattoos. The contrast between me and the usual customers was pretty stark.
‘No, thanks,’ I replied. ‘Here for my friend’s drinks party, actually. American, blonde, hot, Sabrina Carpenter vibes – seen her?’
He smiled, tilting his head as he took my empty glass back.
‘Yeah, hard to miss,’ he said, gesturing towards the very back. ‘Bit like you,’ he added, a suggestive curve to his mouth.
‘Not tonight, hotshot,’ I replied, giving him a half-smile in return as I began walking away, weaving through the sea of City boys with their slicked-back hair and signet rings.
‘Hestia, hey!’ Lil called from the centre of a small group of people at the back. I smiled, feeling yet another pang as I eyed her denim skirt and cowboy boots – just a cowboy hat away from her Jackson roots.
‘Hey,’ I replied, leaning into her huge hug, noting the way the group of others looked on with curiosity, Jamie raising his hand and grinning.
‘I’m so glad you could make it,’ she said, leaning back and smiling. ‘I can’t believe how quick this week has gone . . . I’ll almost be home this time tomorrow.’ She shook her head, leading me over to the others. ‘How’s it going with the studio and settling back in?’
‘It’s, uh . . . it’s been difficult,’ I began. Lil turned back to me, frowning as the other people began to introduce themselves – all friends of Jamie’s.
‘So what do you do, Hestia? Jamie says you live around here?’
He’d introduced himself as Dillon, one of Jamie’s uni friends. He had a cocky edge to his voice and a swagger that suggested he was rarely refused anything.
‘Yeah, I did,’ I answered, catching Lil’s eye for a moment. Her frown deepened. ‘I’m a tattoo artist, although I’m considering different things right now.’
As he opened his mouth, eyes narrowed in on my neck, Lil interjected.
‘Dillon, honey, would you do us the biggest favour?’ she asked, laying her hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to turn to her. ‘Hestia and I are just about gasping for another drink. Mine’s a dirty martini, and I’d bet my life Hestia drinks those too?’
I hid a smile as I nodded, glancing down at my own cowboy boots, inconspicuous under my black, wide-leg jeans.
‘Of course,’ he simpered, another friend joining him to top up the whole group.
As he left, she grasped me gently by the arm, leading us away to a nearby standing table.
‘You did live here? Considering new things?’ she began, eyebrows in her hairline. ‘What the hell happened in the past few days?’
I stared at her, hesitating, not quite knowing how to voice the thoughts that’d started developing this afternoon after I’d left the studio.
‘The studio is . . . gone,’ I admitted. I told her about the events of the afternoon, then rewound back to the painful moments with Jesse on the phone.
My voice cracked a little as I finally admitted my simmering panic about his mental state, and about seeing Chrissy in his truck – and the lack of immediate flights to attempt to sort it out.
Lil’s face, so like Lottie’s, blurred at the edges as I blinked away the hurt and frustration. And, just as Lottie’s would, her expression hardened, a steely core flashing through her wide blue eyes.
‘C’mon, we’re going outside for a moment,’ she said, taking my hand and walking us through the building crowd and out into the cooling air, the relative quiet settling across us.
‘This is bullshit. That man is a stubborn ass sometimes,’ she added, pulling out her phone.
‘But he’ll listen to his boss. He’ll have to. ’
I held my breath as she called him, fighting back feelings of helplessness, grateful for her help but equally unsure how to accept it.
‘Jesse, honey, how are ya?’ she began, the friendly tone casing the hard edge of the expression. Her eyes narrowed as she took in his response. ‘All of you, out on the town? That a good idea right before the competition?’
I balled my hands into fists, nails digging into my palms as she waited for his response.
‘Oh, I’m coming home soon,’ she suddenly replied, all trace of joviality gone. ‘But changing the subject isn’t gonna get you off the hook, Jesse.’
Shaking her head, she brought the phone down and tapped it onto speaker, holding it between us.
‘. . . I get it, Lil,’ he sighed, his voice only just audible over the babble of talking and music around him. ‘I’ll be fine . . . I just – these winnings could really change things, you know? Not just for Mom, but me too. Did Lottie call you? She and Cole have been bugging me all the way up here.’
‘No, actually. I’ve been speaking to the one person you should be listening to. Hestia’s worried sick, honey.’
Silence followed. My jaw clamped shut as I heard a now familiar female voice in the background – the sound that had reverberated around my head all day.
‘Jesse?’ Lil prompted, reaching out to squeeze my arm, her eyes too taut to be reassuring.
‘Yeah, I’m here,’ he mumbled.
‘Listen, while you’re out there drinking with God knows who—’ she began, cut off by his angry sigh.
‘Lil, I’m not doing this,’ he growled. ‘I don’t know what to think about Hestia.’
I held my breath, trying to keep the hurt down.
‘Honey, she cares what happens to you. She told you, didn’t she?’ Lil swallowed, as though this conversation was unlocking her own memories from a different time. I took her hand from my arm and held it instead, touched that she’d make herself vulnerable for my sake.
‘She was just scared,’ he replied, his voice suddenly becoming unbearably soft. ‘Saying things to try and keep me safe, that’s all.’
I opened my mouth, half gasping, half trying to respond, his words like a sharp stab to my gut.
‘I don’t think—’ Lil cut in, but before she could finish, the sound of female giggling cut through; Chrissy was whispering his name.
‘I’ve gotta go,’ he said, his tone still despondent. ‘Have a safe flight home, Lil. See you at the rodeo, if you make it.’
The phone cut off, the screen fading to black between us.
‘Stubborn ass,’ she hissed, opening it back up, ready to press call again.
But I stopped her, my eyes widening as an idea bloomed, like ink dropped into water.
‘Your flight,’ I murmured, not quite knowing if it was possible, or even if she’d consider it. ‘When does it get into Jackson?’
Her eyes searched mine for a moment, widening.
‘Tomorrow evening,’ she breathed, taking back her hand and flicking away from the call screen and straight into another app. ‘Are we thinking the same thing here?’
‘I’m not sure I can pull off being you,’ I stumbled, ‘but if you can swap the name on the flight and don’t mind waiting a couple of days to leave . . .’
She fell into concentration, pulling up her flight details and navigating around until –
‘There,’ she said, her tone triumphant as she turned the screen towards me. ‘There’s a fee to change the name on my ticket, but yeah, if you want to . . . I’ll give you my seat home, sweetheart. You go rip that stubborn bastard a fresh one for me.’
With a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh, I grabbed her into a hug.
She chuckled, surprise turning to a tight squeeze in return.
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, sudden guilt taking over. ‘It’s not too much? I mean, we can book you another flight right now, but . . .’
‘Honey,’ she replied, shaking her head. ‘Listen, from what I know about you, from everything Lottie’s said and what’s going on with you and Jesse, I’m guessing you’ve been looking after yourself forever, right?
Sweetheart, I say this from a place of knowing that feeling too damn well – you need to let people in, let them help you in the way you do for everyone else, okay?
’ She lifted her hand over her chest, staring at me square on.
‘I am more than happy to give up my seat for you and I am more than happy to organize you a visa to stay on at the ranch, if that’s what you want.
I love Jamie’s idea of running artist and writer retreats.
We’ve been testing the waters these last few days with a bunch of people he knows, and we’ve got people signing up on a waiting list already.
The ranch is gonna get real busy, real quick, so the work is there. ’
I just stared at her, silenced by the size of her gesture, her willingness to share. Just as Jesse had shown me, from day one.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ I admitted, allowing myself to smile as she did.
‘Well, book me onto another flight for a start, then we need to go get our martinis. You need to go pack, and I need to tell Jamie he’s got a few more days to put up with me.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ I replied, grinning as she put her arm around my shoulder.
I left after transferring Lil the money for a new flight, getting her into Jackson in three days’ time. Butterflies swarming in my gut, I knew that even though I didn’t need to be at Heathrow until 4 a.m. for a flight just after 6 a.m., there was no way I would sleep in between.