JC

It was a perfect night, if there was such a thing. A cool breeze wound through the car, bringing the scent of freshly mowed grasses and flowering trees and a trace of ocean. The interior was barely lit, providing for shadows and shades of grey. Maybe not sitting in bright daylight or under the harsh glare of fluorescent light bulbs would make Shelby feel like she could talk easier. He hoped, at least.   

JC settled in and got comfortable in preparation for a drawn out, emotional story. He had never been so eager to hear a long story in his life.

Shelby was laughing, that sultry chuckle. He loved that sound coming from her. "I don't think I've ever told the whole story. I'm not even sure where to start."

Her hand, wrapped in his, was still shaking. He squeezed, and the held it tight. "I want to know everything. Forward and backward, up and down, all of it."

Shelby opened her mouth, at first just blurting words out as if she hoped they made sense.  "For starters, Shelby Morris doesn't exist. Morris is my mother's maiden name.  I took that name when I left Miami, because I thought it would make it harder for Melina to find me. That obviously didn't work. My name is Shelby Coster."

JC smiled and squeezed her hand again. "Nice to meet you, finally. And who is Shelby Coster?"     

She sighed into the air, not answering for nearly a minute before her gaze moved from the view to his face. "That's a really good question."

Slowly, the story began to unfold. The happy childhood of the only offspring of mature parents, a child who had more run of the house than she should have, and was trusted with adult responsibility at a young age. Precocious and curious, Shelby was diving into sex and relationships when most of her peers were still playing with dolls or squealing over teen idols.

"I was in college, at University of Miami because my parents would pay my tuition if I didn't move away. But I couldn't do half the crazy shit I wanted to do, because I was living at home. I tried staying out all night--" Shelby shook her head, a stern impression of Renee's frown on her face.

"Mom was not down with that. They started talking about a curfew, saying I couldn't come and go at all hours. To them, I was still a kid. I got a job as a waitress at this place off campus, and I put money away here and there until I could get a place of my own. I couldn't work in the bar because I wasn't 21 yet, but hearing all the girls talk, it seemed like they were getting better tips.”

She glanced over at him, smiling. “You know how that is-you get a little tipsy, the waitress shows a little boob, you get a little happy and you leave a better tip.”

JC knew that racket pretty well.

“When I turned 21, I told the manager that I wanted to work the bar. He said he had enough girls in the bar, so I got mad and quit. And then went home, put on my best clothes, headed to the swankiest, fanciest place in town and said I wanted to waitress, but only if I could work the bar. They said it was tips only. I like a challenge, so I took it, and in a month I made more than I had made in the last three months in the bar off campus. I started watching the bartender, and learning about drinks, since I was serving them. It didn't seem hard. You learn the recipe, and learn how to enhance a recipe? Bob's your uncle, you're a great Bartender. So he took me under his wing. And some other places…"

Shelby gave him a look.  JC grinned. Understood.

"It was a lot like how we are, you and I. Fun, crazy, casual. Great dinners, great sex, nothing in between. No falling in love, not anything serious. He taught me a lot about the business behind the bar, too, you know? How to keep people coming back, how to get the most out of a bottle, the economics of running a profitable bar."

"So that's where your dream of having your own bar came from."

"Yeah. Pretty much.”

"And you took over his bar? What happened to him?"

"His father got sick, back in Cuba. He had to take a leave of absence, so I took over. It was hard, and I was in way over my head but I had an assistant that kicked ass, and I was doing it. Then I met the owner of the place. Fresh out of a divorce." Shelby glanced up at him and then back down. "Millionaire."

"Uh hmmm."

"Yeah. He was lonely and I was poor and we helped each other out. I had no expectations of anything coming out of it. Sometimes, if I was a good girl, he'd make a deposit into my account. I didn't really think anything of it. My rent was getting paid. I wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth."

"Right. No, wouldn't want to do that."

Shelby smarted at his comment and recoiled. "I can skip over some of this, if you can't handle it. I mean, you asked to hear this, and I don't want you think I'm-"

"No!" JC tightened his grip on her hand, his tone as apologetic as he could manage. "I want to hear it. All of it. Keep going. I want to know."  

A deep breath later, Shelby continued her story. "I dated him for a few months. It was fun, but going nowhere. He met someone else and the money he gave me started to run out and I was desperate again. I had to stay in school because my parents were paying for it. I was burning the candle at both ends, working all night, going to class all day, sleeping when I could. I guess my body learned to live without sleep.

"A few months go by and this guy walks in. Handsome, sophisticated, older but kind of young looking. He slides up to the bar, slick as shit, and says ‘top shelf scotch, honey.'  Music to my ears. I keep him flowing with the VSOP, the stuff in the back, not the cheap stuff up front. He and I chat, here and there. He keeps coming in, and he's pretty much a regular, in a few weeks. I could set my watch by him, most days."

"This is Lucas?"

Shelby nodded. "This is Lucas. Meanwhile, my life is in shambles. I was having a hard time making all my classes, working to pay the rent. Lucas would listen to me bitch all the time about it. He'd tell me how tired I looked, and I would tell him how I was up all night studying and then I had classes and whatever. He would just nod and commiserate and at the end of the night, he’d leave me a fat tip."

"Nice guy," JC commented, though he was thinking something entirely different. Lucas was a sucker and JC knew it because it took one to know one. Shelby was a con artist of the highest caliber, even if she didn't want to think of herself as such. He'd met more than one, in his day. Given in to more than one, too. Rich men knew when they were being used for their money. Most didn’t care, so long as he got attention in return.

"Very nice guy,” she said. “So, he became a regular. He would come in every once in awhile off of his regular schedule, all dolled up in a tux or a nice suit. Now, I don't care how old you are, a man in a suit is a hot ticket. I love the look."

JC laughed. "Remind me to wear suits more often."

"Lucas would come in and have a drink or two. We’d talk until closing, sometimes after. He never made a move until one night-- it was early for him, probably around 7 o'clock or so. He stopped in on his way to dinner in the restaurant above the bar, and said, Miss Shelby-- he called me that, a lot. Anyway, he said he wanted to invite me to this function he had to attend. It was going to be full of his fledgling young real estate associates.”

“And you went?"

"I went, she said, nodding her head. “If there's one thing older men are good for, it's that they know how to treat a lady. Most girls my age wouldn't have experienced that, yet. Younger men are not taught how to be gentlemen." She flashed a smile at him, before continuing her story. "And older men have the means to do it the well."

JC sidestepped the comment. He’d always considered himself a gentleman, but he also knew that it wasn’t chivalry that drew women to him. He longed to tell Shelby that, but kept his mouth shut. He’d let her live in her delusion that she liked having doors opened for her without pointing out that the doors often led to places the common man couldn’t take her.

"So you started dating him, after that?" He prodded, moving the story along.

Shelby winced, bobbing her head back and forth. “It evolved into that. He would ask me to attend firm functions and he'd always say that if it was about the money, he’d be sure to reimburse me what I’d miss by not working. I felt a little bit like a hooker being bought for the night, but I liked being with him, you know?  He was fun. A little stiff, but at the time I was eating Top Ramen and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and counting quarters for laundry. It wasn't like I could say ‘oh, French food again? At that place where no one can get a reservation again? Gosh, we did that last week.' It was kind of an addiction."

"Don’t blame you. Nice things are hard to refuse. Were you….” JC hesitated, not sure why he even needed to know. “… having sex with him?"

Shelby seemed uncomfortable, suddenly. JC worried she would stop, but she didn't. Through squirming and nervous hair pulling and tucking behind her ear, she went on. "The sex... uhm...well, the sex didn’t come until a few months after I started seeing him regularly and really only because I started to feel like I owed him-"

"Did he say that?"  

Shelby patted his hand, soothing. "No," she answered. "He never said that. It was my own thinking. After a few months, he took me to some party in the Keys. We had a really nice, luxury condo. I was drunk off my ass and he was spoiling me to death. And I slept with him.”  Shelby shrugged, as nonchalant as if she’d said the sky was blue. “But it wasn't what I thought it would be. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't amazing."

“Was I amazing?”

Shelby stopped talking, her breath catching in her throat. She smiled, seeming wistful, gazing out at the field spanning around them. “You remind me why people have sex. You gave me everything I’d been missing out on. Being close to someone, intimately close. That feeling of building pressure, just holding out until you feel like you’ll explode if you don’t release it.” She turned her head, finding his eyes. He could see the sparkle in hers. “Yeah. You were amazing.”

"But you kept seeing him, even though he wasn’t?"

"It didn’t take long to get wrapped up in Lucas, and the nice things and the clothing and the jewelry and the trips. By then, I was living with him. Once I moved in, it was ridiculous. He spoiled me rotten. I wanted for nothing. He got a lot of pleasure out of putting a smile on my face."

JC knew the feeling, and felt sorry for the old guy. He never really stood a chance.   

“I dropped out of school. I was a year away from being done, but I was too busy playing rich girlfriend to care. And I was a snob. I was evil and catty and stuck up, so I lost all my friends, really, when I started dating him."

"Well, that had to have some kind of impact. Or did you care?"

“Of course I cared. Just too little, too late. He had asked me to marry him. I was shocked, to say the least. I thought it would be like before, nothing serious. Lucas and I said I love you like we said good morning, but it really didn't mean as much to me as it did, to him. I don't think I realized that, until much later. He opened the little black box and the ring was blinding. It was so bright and so fantastic and I was so greedy that ‘yes' popped out of my mouth before I could even think about it.”

Shelby sighed, pulling at her hair, again, running her fingers through the length. “After we got engaged was when Melina lost her mind. She went on a rampage that has never stopped. Lucas had three adult children and an ex-wife that seemed to always be around, but they were at least coldly polite to me. Melina openly hated me. She sniffed around a lot, tried to be close to him, but he would tell me things about her that would curl your toes-"

"Like?" He interrupted, leaning in. "I'd like to hear some dirt on her."

Shelby chuckled to herself. "Like...she’s a thief. She'll rob you blind, right under your nose. Nordstrom, the house next door, cocktail parties? Goldmines. Lucas paid a lot of money to make a lot of things go away. And he always kept things locked up. The family hates her, Lucas said. She was always the most conniving of his kids, very money hungry. He was to the point where he was ready to cut her off.”

"Hmmm,” JC mused. “Makes sense.  That explains why she's interested your money."

"Yes it does," Shelby said, her nod vigorous. "I was getting tired, though, of the charade. I liked him a lot, but I didn't love Lucas and I couldn’t deal with his spoiled brood. I never had anything of my own. He would give me anything and he would buy me anything and I could shop with his credit card, but he would never hand me a stack of money and say, ‘here, go play with this.' It was all his always his and he was always in control. When I would start to complain, he made sure I knew that I was replaceable, and that I had nowhere to go. I never finished school and I quit my bartending job by just never showing up again. I burned all my bridges for him."

JC had to laugh, at that.  "In one breath you make him sound like a sweet ass sugar daddy. In the next he sounds kind of evil."

Shelby seemed to mull his point for a long span of time. Maybe her opinion differed from his, from the other side, or maybe this guy just had two faces. And maybe she couldn't decide which the worst face was.

"I think every man has a little sugar daddy in him,” she said eventually, quietly. “Men like women to be happy. They like to see a woman light up, to smile and laugh. Some men will go to extraordinary lengths to make that happen." Shelby glanced up at JC, her eyes squinting in the moonlight. "And even you can be a little bit evil."

He didn't respond, mostly because it was true, on both accounts. He preferred to call his evil by its lesser known name: passion.

Shelby shifted, the leather beneath her squeaking and groaning. “I didn't really see that evil side, though, until it was too late. And then I wanted out, and I couldn't find a way out. And I didn't have any friends to help me, because I'd been a nasty bitch to them all. My parents just barely liked me, by this point, and forget any of Lucas' friends. They'd be on his side."

"So you’re with this guy. And starting to see that the grass isn’t greener. And you’re ready leave, I take it?” 

“I was going to. But then…”

“The accident?” Slow and solemn, Shelby nodded. “Tell me,” JC prodded, moving so he was closer, resting an elbow on the arm rest. Shelby sighed and hummed, tapping a foot, staring blankly out at the night.

“I think I’ll remember those moments for the rest of my life. We'd been fighting a lot, almost every day. Clashing over every little fucking thing. He was self conscious about the age difference, but he took it out on me by accusing me of thinking he was too old for me. Every argument turned into me being ashamed of him. The day of the accident, we were in my car. I'd taken it that morning to be serviced and had brand new tires put on, oil change, brake service, the whole deal. I got back to the house and he was furious because we were supposed to be looking at a wedding venue-- some swanky place that his Real Estate buddy owned. I didn’t want to go, but we got in the car and we argued the whole way. I'm... I was done.”

Shelby shook her head, her eyes directed toward JC.  In the glint of moonlight, he saw regret. And pain. They pleaded with him to understand.

“I swear, I’d had it. I was leaving. I didn’t care if I had to live in a box on the beach, I was leaving. I made a U-turn and I start heading back to the house.  We were fighting and it was ugly and evil. We have never called each other the names we're calling each other. I said something about leaving him. For good. I was going back to the house to pack and I would just get the fuck out of his life, right now. He says to me, ‘So you can fuck your way into someone else's wallet?'"

JC seemed to jump, startled at the crass comment. A man who’d given her the world seemed to lash out with the most hurtful of insults, as if he was blameless and had no part.  Her eyes fluttered closed and then open again, pointedly avoiding JC's shocked, slack mouthed stare.

"I'll never forget it. I punched him-"

"Shelby...you didn’t…"

"Yup, I punched him," she repeated with an evil cackle. "It wasn't that hard, but hard enough to make him mad. He reached over, with both hands, and like, wrapped them around my neck. And he was... he was choking me. And I was losing control of the car and pushing him and clawing at his fingers to let go. I hit something. A dip in the road, a rock or something. I just heard this pop and the tires squealing and I felt the car veer off in the direction of the explosion, because it's pulling, you know?"

"Inertia, or... whatever. Right."

"We hit a few guardrails and he let go but it was too late to correct. The car is just… out of control and we flip and we flip and we flip..." Shelby's hand rolled and head bobbed to imitate the slow revolution of the car turning over and over in the air. "The car lands upside down and skids across the pavement. I can't… I can’t describe the sound of metal on concrete—it’s ear shattering. The feeling…”

She stopped and looked over at him. “Have you ever been in a car accident?"

"Uh huh," he said. “That crunch is an indescribable sound."

"It's the loudest most jarring sound I’ve ever heard. Sometimes I still dream it…it’s that sound that makes me wake up, because after that… I…” Her breath caught and she began to suck in deep, heavy breaths. Her hand, even in his grasp, was shaking violently. Her other hand, instead of pulling at her hair, gripped her neck at the shoulder and nervously rubbed. “This is hard…”

“Hey, hey,” JC soothed, switching the hand that held hers so he could attempt to comfort her. He rubbed her back, massaged her neck, and squeezed her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m right here, whenever you’re ready.”

Shelby gave him a quick glance, flashing a grateful smile up at him. “I couldn’t see anything. It was smoky in the car. I was screaming for Lucas—I could feel him but he wasn’t answering. The next thing I remember is being pulled of the window. There was this thick, black, acrid smoke—that smell never leaves my nostrils-- and there was a lot of yelling and a feeling of panic. I couldn't really breathe and then there was this sonic boom and a flash and this incredible heat. I felt like I was being pressed to the ground, by some force."

“Gas tank exploded,” JC said. 

Shelby swallowed, hard, and squeezed his hand wrapped around hers, so hard her nail dug into his skin. “Lucas was still inside."

The only word he could think of to fit the situation was, "Wow..."

"I think I passed out, after that. What little I saw is embedded in my mind. I woke up in the hospital. I had some heavy bruising." She tapped her head, her fingers on her temple. "But no permanent damage. I stayed for a few days, for observation, mostly. After they told me that uhm… that Lucas didn’t make it, I sort of broke down."

He rubbed her back with long, soothing strokes. “You got lucky."

Shelby scoffed. "I didn’t feel lucky. For awhile, everyone was feeling sorry for me. And then, for some strange reason, the family did an autopsy on Lucas. The results of that started this whole nightmare."

"What'd the autopsy show that you couldn’t tell? He was… he was dead, right?"

"Yes… but…the accident didn't kill him." Shelby hesitated before going on. The air was still except for the sounds of the night around them—crickets in the distance, trees rustling. "They found smoke in his lungs and esophagus. If you're dead, you don't breathe that stuff in. He was alive and breathing smoke in the car. That's not to say he would have survived the accident. His injuries were extensive, and it still would have been my fault that he died. But he was alive."

Shelby blinked back tears and swallowed a sob, her chin shaking with the effort. A wind kicked up and blew her hair across her face. Mindlessly she swiped it away and tucked it behind one ear and then the other. She cleared her throat and pressed on.

"Once they-the family- found that out, two things happened. The first was that Melina started saying that I killed him. To everyone.  She’s convinced that I masterminded the accident so that only I would survive. A few months before, after a particularly fun and sex filled weekend, Lucas added me to his will. I had no idea. I guess he had been planning to propose for awhile."

"Hold on, what?" JC’s head tilted, his brows tangled together in confusion. "You didn't know he put you in his will?"

Shelby shook her head, slowly. "I thought he was having a pre-nup drafted. We were supposed to look at a version in a few days. I already didn't want to sign that, but I wasn't marrying for love. It was only fair, so..." She shrugged a shoulder, so calm and straightforward about it. She wasn't bragging but also didn't ashamed, either. It was what it was, all laid out in black and white, so to speak.  

"I was as surprised as anyone to be summoned to the Executor's office, so he could tell me that Lucas left me something. He had no choice but to do as the will dictated, but his family fought those few million like it was a billion dollars. They didn't want me to have a penny.”

"I turned into the greediest of bitches. I was angry, so angry, and feeling so guilty, and so hurt—I lashed out at everyone, at everything. I was mad at the world. I wanted it all, everything he left me, everything due me. I kept all the wedding gifts. My dishes, my pots and pans, that rug in front of the fireplace at my house? Wedding gifts.”

JC’s eyebrow lifted. Well… that was certainly a way to thumb her nose at the Samuels family. JC wasn’t sure he wanted to have sex on that rug anymore, though.

“Melina made sure to tell me that I was to take nothing without her permission. I took it all. Crystal vases, appliances, jewelry. I let them fight over the house. I didn't want that museum of a place, anyway."

"I read some stuff she wrote about you," JC said. “She’s nuts.”

"I've read it all. Sometimes I would sit up at night, when I couldn’t sleep, and read her latest hate filled rant about me or my family. Or her latest theory about how I killed him and why."

"See, that’s why we were told to try not read what people wrote about us. You’ll never please everyone. And it's no wonder you never sleep. Who could sleep after reading that stuff about themselves?" JC shuddered-- not from the cool air, but the sheer evil of that woman. "You said two things happened after the autopsy. What was the second?”

"The second was that I filed a suit against the manufacturer of the tires on my car. When my tires were examined--what was left of them-- there was no doubt that they shredded on impact. After Firestone, there’s no way they were going to get away with it. I wouldn't join a class action; I named a dollar amount or I'd see them in court. They countered with a number I could live with.” She gulped, then whispered. “Millions. In the triple digits.”

JC’s jaw fell open. Shelby nodded, almost smiling. “I accepted. A large sum went to my attorney and some medical bills from the accident. The Samuels Family Trust was expecting a fat check for one third." Shelby let out a haughty bout of laughter and said, defiantly, "They never got it.”

“First of all…” JC’s head was a blur, trying to form itself around Shelby’s revelation. He remembered, not long ago, trying to guess what her story was, whether was either crazy or loaded. Loaded, it was. “I mean, holy fuck, that’s a lot of money. Second of all… were they supposed to get a third?”

“There was never an agreement,” she answered with a shrug of her shoulder. “There was an assumption, but no one ever put it in writing. No matter, I never intended to split the settlement. Lucas was the brains of that operation. They weren’t smart enough to realize that money doesn’t just come to you. It doesn’t grow on trees and if you feel like you’re due some, you ask for it. I took half of it and put it away, invested some and left some liquid. I paid off my parent’s house. Bought myself and them a car and started planning my escape. When I was ready, I left town in the middle of the night.

"Melina, especially, was furious. It was like she'd already spent the money. Her campaign against me has grown worse with every passing month, but since she had no idea where I was, there was nothing she could do."  

Shelby sighed. She seemed tired, worn out from unfolding her past.

"And now you know why I freaked out when you said Rod knew about me. Cameras follow him everywhere and he tells everyone’s business. And when we were at the movies that night, I just knew it was the beginning of the end. Someone would tell her that they saw me on TV. In Orlando, dating a celebrity, a wealthy one. It must have made her head explode to think I had moved on. I guess she must have figured I was up to my old tricks, and thought she would, you know... stop me."

"And were you? Up to your old tricks?"  JC seemed entirely more interested since Shelby had reached the part that had anything to do with him. He didn't even want to ask, but he had to. It came with knowing everything, forward and backward, up and down, inside and out. He needed to know what he was dealing with.

Shelby grew quiet, the answer to his question becoming obvious, the longer it took her to answer. It didn't matter, really. Except it did. He never figured himself for a mark, and he wasn't even sure how he felt about it. He never, for a minute, considered one word of the letter he received from Melina could be true. How naïve.

Shelby rambled on, her head resting on the seat behind her, but her voice was so low, JC could hardly hear her. He leaned in, to hear her better. "You weren't supposed to be so nice," she was saying. "The sex wasn't supposed to be so good, and we weren't supposed to have so much in common. I wasn't supposed to like you so much."

“But I was, I guess. And we did have fun and the sex was great. Amazing, even. Right? Was that really all it was supposed to be?"

"JC..." Shelby sighed, almost laughing. "Is it so bad that the answer is yes?  Does it hurt your feelings that I really never wanted anything from you?"

"But you did, Shelby.” JC sat up, moving around so he could glare at her easily. “You did want something from me. You wanted me to not care about you, to treat you as an object, to enjoy the few hours I got out of you a week and never expect more. You wanted me to never ask questions and to accept this coy, mysterious thing you had going on and never wonder who you were, or where you were from or… what you were doing to me. I'm not that kind of guy."

"That's not true at all,” she said, her voice level, almost cold. “From what I’ve heard, you can be that guy when you want to be."  

His face was flush, his mind reaching back to that blur of six weeks between Kim leaving and accepting the job with Rod. It annoyed him to be defined by a period of time when he didn't even know which way was up.

"Maybe I didn't want to be that guy with you,” he countered. “Maybe there was something about you that made me want to get close to you, but I couldn't. Maybe you think you didn't want anything from me, but being with you has been harder than any relationship I've ever been in. Hiding this from me didn't make this any easier."

“It wasn’t all that easy for me either, JC. I wanted some fun and a good time with a cute guy and to not owe him shit. I wanted him to want me because... well, just because. I never asked you for a thing, except good company."

"But you knew, Shelby. You knew three dates, five dates, six dates in, that it was about a lot more than sex." JC leaned into her, a finger jabbing at his chest. “I’m not stupid. Neither are you. That night, when all you did was cry… you felt it. You still couldn't tell me? After everything we've had together, everything we've shared, you still couldn't let me in?"

Shelby shook her head, tears welling, glistening in the corner of an eye. "No, JC. I couldn't. And even if I could, I wouldn’t."

JC felt like screaming. Like if he climbed out of the car and fell to his knees, pounding his fists into the earth until they bled, she might possibly understand how he was feeling. The frustration was maddening.

"I never wanted you to know the gold-digger. I never wanted you to know the whore. I never wanted you to see the girl that ran through men like water and treated them like her own personal bank account. You were never supposed to know that girl, because you've already known those girls. Those are the kinds of girls that chase after guys like you. Celebrities. Rock stars. Rich men. I never wanted to be that girl, to you."

She paused, took a breath, gauging his reaction. When he offered no comment or protest—because he couldn’t think of one—she continued.

"I moved to Orlando, to be a different person. To leave the spoiled, prissy whore behind. To start over. I wanted nothing but to rock your socks off. Just because. For nothing in return. You'd have some fun with her and then like every other rock star on the planet, get bored with her and move on.” She shook her head, a haughty laugh falling from her lips. “But you hung around. And you made me like you. And you complicated things by wanting to know me."

"Yeah, sorry about that," he spit out. "I'm kind of nosy when people hide things from me. So this is my fault?"

"Not at all. This is not about you. It never was. This is all me, all on me. No matter what we feel for each other, I should have avoided you like the plague. I know that. And I'm sorry, JC. I'm so sorry."

He was upset, and rightly so, though he didn’t want to be. He wanted to be kind and loving and understanding. He had come to Miami to be consoling and compassionate, not accusatory but… fuck. This was a heavy load to bear.

"I'm not sorry that we met. And I'm not sorry about anything that happened between us, but I am sorry I didn't think things through, and I didn't think about how it would affect you. I thought I had left this all behind, here in Miami. I was stupid to think it wouldn't follow me to Orlando."

JC was quiet. Not speechless, he just didn't know which set of words to let out of his mouth first. The angry ones, or the hurt ones, or the understanding ones.

"So, that's it," he said, his eyes hard, his forehead creased. "The whole story."

"That's most of it," she answered, her eyes on him. "That's everything I never wanted you to know, that you had to find out in the ugliest way possible."

"Thanks for sharing," he offered flatly.

"You wanted to know. You asked for everything." A beat or two of silence passed, and then, meek and shy and quiet, she asked, "Are you sorry you came down here, to hear all of that?"

"I don't know what to think," he said. "I don't think I heard what I expected to hear. I'm not sure what I was expecting." He shrugged, burying a hand in his hair, combing it back with his fingers, his jaw twitching like mad. "I think I might be pissed off, but I get it. I know why you couldn't say anything. And I'm still here. I will say it every day of your life if I have to. I'm not going anywhere."

"JC...." Her eyes popped wide open. Like she'd expected him to storm off into the moonlight. It wasn't like he hadn't considered it. It just wasn't his style. “But... the package... and the articles, and Melina. The note... the... everything..."

"Maybe I’m an idiot. I don’t know, but I was serious, this morning. I didn't make Rod reroute the plane to Miami to walk away when I heard the truth."  He leaned over and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering on her warm skin, and pulled back. “And I don't care how many times you push me away, or tell me to leave you alone. I'm ready to fight you, every time.”

Suddenly shy, Shelby bowed her head but he tucked a finger under her chin and pulled until her head lifted and he could see her eyes, so she could see his, and see that he wasn’t angry or ashamed. And he wasn’t leaving her.  

"So, now what? You came to Miami because why? To confront Melina? Kick her ass? Can I watch? Cause I kind of hate her. She hurt my woman."

Her beautiful face broke into a wide smile and a melodious sound came from inside her. A deep, throaty, hearty laugh- he liked the sound of it. That whole theory she had, about men wanting women to be happy, to see them smile and hear them laugh? He was starting to think there was something to that. Otherwise, there was just no reason for hearing everything he had just heard and never even thinking of walking away.

Shelby

She felt good. So good, like a dam breaking and the truth gushing forth like a wall of water. She felt light as a feather, now. If Shelby had a preference, she'd never tell it again. She’d bury that bitch and never dig her back up. Start over. All over again.

"God, I wish," she said swiping at tears, first from their conversation and then from laughing so hard. "I saw my attorney today, and we called a meeting with the Family Trust. “

Shelby heaved a giant sigh, squeezed JC’s hand and then admitted, sheepishly, “I guess I am going to have to give up some of the money to make Melina go away. I can’t have her digging into my life and exposing my past. Not that I care much about that, but I can’t have her bringing up your name. If the money will make her shut up, it’s worth my peace of mind.”

JC seemed dumbfounded. He stuttered for a few moments before he said, “So… you’re just gonna give her the money? After fighting her all this time, uprooting your whole world, creating a fake name and a fake life… I mean, you’re giving in? This is what she wants, Shelby.”

“I know,” she whined, dreading the prospect. “I know. And I don’t want to. I don’t want her grubby hands anywhere near that settlement, believe me, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“I do.” Stern and decisive, his eyes bored into hers, his mouth set, his jaw square. “We fight her. The right way, with big guns. And not the Lucas Family—Melina herself.” JC punched at the leather seat with a finger.

No matter how many times she heard the word ‘we' it still sent butterflies through her belly and a shiver up her spine. She smiled and dipped her head, then shyly looked up at him. "You're going to my meeting? Or just giving me instructions."

"Both," he answered. "You're not paying her to protect me. You're not handing over some money, hoping you can fade into the sunset. You'll march into that meeting, and I'll be right behind you and you'll tell her to shut her fat mouth or you'll stick a lawsuit in it." He nodded, then. A final gesture to ensure that he meant business.

Shelby sat next to him, in shock and amazement and awe. And lust. "I'd ask if you were sure," she muttered, "but... I kind of like this side of you."

“You said it yourself-- they can’t stand her and the family hates publicity. That’s why they never went after you for the money; they just let Melina be the bad guy. Name her in a harassment suit and they’ll fall away from her and make her stand on her own two feet, just to separate themselves from her. You know she has no money, away from the family. Her dad’s lawyers won’t represent her for free and she acts like she needs the money. Your money.”

Shelby blinked, confused. It couldn’t be that easy. “But—I mean—we just… file suit?”

JC chuckled, as if to say, ‘poor, misguided girl’. “If we have to. Shelby… what happens when, a year from now, she’s spent all that money you gave her and she decides she wants more? It’ll never end if you pay her off, sweetheart. You can’t give in to her.”

“JC, I don’t know…”

“I do. And if your attorney can’t handle it, I’ll get you one who can. You’re done running from her. You’re done bowing to her. You’re done rearranging your life around someone so powerless. If she could have done something, she would have. So we call her bluff.”

He reached for her face, tipping her chin up so he could see her eyes. His were full of fire, both beautiful and frightening at the same time. “We’re in this together,” he said. “I’m gonna help you get away from her. For good.”

“I…I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if that will work.”

“We have no choice but to make it work.”

It took a few minutes. A few long, slow, quiet minutes, but for the first time in a very long time, Shelby began to relax. It wouldn’t be easy to face her long-time nemesis. Or cheap, if the case went to court. But she had money, and it appeared she still had JC’s support. Whether she still had his love remained to be seen.

“I have to know. Are you disgusted?”

JC studied her for a moment before answering. “By what?”

“By me.”

“How could I—” He shook his head, frowning at her. “No. Just… adjusting. Combining the Shelby I know and the Shelby you just told me about and the Shelby sitting right here next to me. We all have different sides, you know?”

“Yeah.” She paused for a beat, chewing on her bottom lip. “But…one of my sides killed someone.”

“Do you plan on flipping this car? Stabbing me in my sleep?”

She laughed, in spite the gravity of the conversation. JC’s flippant question lightened the mood—she was grateful for that. “No,” she answered, laughing again.

“Then we’re cool,” he said, smiling. Slowly, he leaned over, sliding against the seat, stopping when his head was near hers, so close she could feel his breath, in and out. “Kiss me,” he whispered.  

It was Shelby’s turn to be dumbfounded and shocked. She reared back, checking his face, his eyes, looking for a sign that he wasn’t joking. “After all that heavy I just laid on you, you want a kiss?”

JC slid over further, closing the space between them again. His lips were inches from hers, so close they were almost breathing the same air. “Shelby… sexy, sexy woman. You could tell me you whacked some guy on the way to the airport and you’d still have to fight me off.  We missed our date. I missed you. And we’ve been sitting here for an hour and we haven’t even kissed, yet. What are we waiting on?”

Shelby shrugged, a small smile on her lips. “The right moment, I guess?”

“Well, here it is,” he mumbled, in the seconds before his lips grazed hers. Shelby sighed a breath, emitting a light whimper as his lips stiffened around hers. Open mouths meshed together, tongues slowly intertwining and moans softly rising out of both of them.  JC arched his body over the arm rest between them, awkwardly sliding a hand around her waist. As quickly as the kiss began it ended with him tearing his lips from hers.  

“I can’t get to you. Can we move to the backseat, at least?”

Without a word, Shelby opened her door and stepped out, opened the rear door and slid in next to JC. With no armrest between them now, they dove for each other, a mad flurry of tongues and moans and roaming hands and shuddering breaths. 

"I missed you. God, I missed you," he said, in the brief moment their lips were parted. Shelby mumbled something in response, muffled by his mouth. "Hmmm?"

"I said..." She broke away from him, laughing as he busied his mouth around her face, across her cheeks, down her neck. "I said I'm sorry."

"Don't," he whispered against her neck, his eyes closed. "Let's just enjoy this, right now. It's special. Know why?"

She shook her head. "No. Why?"

"Because it's not Thursday."

Shelby couldn’t answer—her mind was occupied, her body overheating, her heart pounding in her ears. She pushed JC so he was sitting up and moved to straddle him. Hands planted themselves on a cheek and pulled, scooting her closer, right up against him. He was already erect, the heat of him seeping through thick denim. Beneath her, his hips writhed and bucked against her body.

JC panted, his breath hot and heavy, his hands roaming her body, slipping beneath her t-shirt to caress the warm skin from the band of her bra past the band of her jeans.  Shelby moaned in reply, her lips busy moving down his neck into the opening of his shirt. Her fingers nimbly loosened the remaining buttons, until she got impatient and pulled the shirt open. She giggled at the sound of fabric tearing and the ricochet of plastic buttons around the interior of the car.

Suddenly, Shelby sat up, clawing at her clothing. Her t-shirt went over her head and she sat up, ripping open the button closure of her jeans and sliding them down her hips and over her shoes, one leg at a time. JC sat helpless while she undressed, watching and grinning while she planted herself on his lap again.

“You’re doing that thing I like, where you leave your shoes on.”

“I’m gonna do a few things you like,” she said, breathless and suddenly in need of his lips again. She took them—surprisingly bold and forceful, just like the Shelby she invented would do. Except this time, it wasn’t invented, manufactured Shelby. It wasn’t Shelby Morris, wanton sex kitten, dreamgirl, the answer to a rock star’s raging libido and wildest fantasy. It was Shelby Coster, a woman who’d lived a thousand lives in her short twenty eight years, but vowed to live no other life but her real one.

“Your jeans. They have to come off.” Shelby reached between them and felt around his lap, her shoulders sagging at what she found. “Fuck, you’re wearing button fly?”

“Well… yeah, but I’m an expert at taking them off. Gimme a minute.” In a flurry of movements and just a few seconds, JC had all five buttons undone. The fly of his jeans hung open, revealing boxers bunched up around a familiar shape.   

She reached for him, caressing him through the soft cotton, nearly salivating at the feeling. It was like riding a bike—something she’d never forget. JC didn’t dare move, except his hands which were restless on her skin, gliding up her thighs, over her hips and waist, up to her breasts, cupping them in warmth and then making their way back down. After a few minutes of gripping and rubbing and teasing him through his boxers, she moved aside.

“Take ‘em off,” she ordered, and then waited for him to obey. With his jeans and boxers pooled at his ankles, JC slouched in the seat and leaned over so he was halfway lying down. Shelby climbed over him, settling on his thighs as best she could. She giggled, saying, “This was probably not the best idea.”

“It’s your fantasy,” he replied, a laugh in his tone. “Besides, what are we supposed to do? Be real quiet at your house, down the hall from your parents?”

“I should have let you get a hotel room. Maybe tomorrow. Right now, though…”

Shelby leaned forward, balancing her hands on his chest while she lifted herself and promptly sank down on him. A long, low, moan of relief came as he filled her.

“Holy…fuck,” he said, for the second time that night. “I missed this, right here.”

Shelby could only whimper as she rode him, her hips moving up and down and around and around with increasing fury. JC’s hands gripped her waist and then moved down to her hips, pulling and pushing in rhythm with her movements. He grunted, small sounds of pleasure with every gyration seeping from his throat.

“Feels good… so good… soooo good,” she chanted, anchoring herself on his chest.

“Don’t… even think… about stopping,” JC grunted, his words flowing together in one long exhale, his hips rolling underneath her in rhythm with her body.

The car rocked on its axle, back and forth with a squeak that could be heard over harmonious moans rising into the air. The windows fogged over from heavy breaths and despite the open moon roof, the interior of the car was hot and stuffy. Neither Shelby nor JC seemed to notice, and if they did, they didn’t care.

“You feel so good. I’m gonna fucking come… I’m sorry…”

JC chuckled. “Don’t be sorry. What do you think I’m working so hard, for?”

“So you can come.”

“After you.”

As if she was waiting for permission, Shelby’s head flung back, her hips rocked forward, her mouth fell open and everything fell into place. The sensation of her climax brought JC to the brink and then over the edge, though not as loudly but just as passionately.

Eventually, the squeak of the rocking car slowed and then stopped, leaving the sounds of shallow and then deeper breaths sucking down cool air. Shelby shifted, sliding off of JC and collapsing against the seat and across his legs.

“God, that was good,” JC said, between two coughs.

“Sure as shit was. Good to have you back in my life.” Shelby grinned across the cramped space and pushed a bushel of sweat-matted hair back from her forehead. “How was LA, by the way? You got a record?”

JC grinned back at her, slowly nodding. “We got a record. Almost. It’s done, anyway.”

“And now?”

“And now… a break. And then after the first of the year, tour planning. Record release. And then midyear, a tour. I’m kind of hoping you’ll come along. Should be fun.”

Shelby smiled, but after a few seconds, the smile faded. “I’m hoping to be done with school and opening my bar around then. Besides, I think picking up my life and following some man around is how I got into trouble, the first time.”

Shelby sat up, swinging her legs off of his lap and digging around the carpeted floor for her jeans. One leg and then another into the pants and then she wriggled them up and around her hips. She leaned back to button and zip them and then fell silent and motionless. JC sat up and pulled his boxers and jeans back up, tucked himself back into his clothing and took his time buttoning each of the 5 buttons.

"So..." he finally said, breaking the silence.”I'm proud of you."

Shelby's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "For?"

"For owning up to everything. Not running away anymore. Not hiding anymore, risking what I thought of you. That had to be hard."

"I'm no hero," she said, groaning. "Really. I'm a coward, is what I am."  She sat back a few inches and tucked a leg up under her. "I would have never come back here if I didn't have to. I only did it because my lawyer said we might have to drag you into it, and I didn't want to do that. This was the only way, we thought. I mean… you know the whole reason I was concerned about Melina and you not finding everything out was because I didn’t want you to pay for my past.”

“Look, Shelby…” He felt around the interior of the car for her arm, slid down to her hand and held it. “If there was ever a reset button for relationships, I needed one. We needed one. I needed to remember, and to remind you about us, about what we are and what's normal for us. A date, and some good times and some good talk are normal for us. Red wine and chocolate cake and good sex is normal for us." He stroked the back of her hand, playing with her fingers. "Hiding and lying and secrecy aren’t us. It can’t be, not anymore.”

Shelby swallowed, looking at him. The shadow of him rather, since his long, thin face was only half illuminated by the moonlight. She wondered if she had told him everything, right away, would he still be there with her. Or would he have run for the hills, tail between his legs, scared out of his mind about all the drama that surrounded her? Did he even understand why she kept so much from him? How she selfishly kept him around her more because if he knew, he'd surely have never asked her out?

She yawned, a wide mouthed, loud, groan filled yawn, followed by fit of laughter. "That was smooth, right in your face. I’m so rude, I’m sorry!"

“Shelby honey… that is music to my ears, coming from an insomniac," JC groaned as he stretched his limbs and then sat up, reaching for the door on his side. “It’s late and your car is small. Take me home so we can pretend we’re not having sex right down the hall from your parents.”