Jane's Harmony (Jane's Melody #2) (17 page)

“How about we leave them on and
I
fuck
you
.”

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding fiercely. “Yes, Mistress.”

She backed off of him and stood and stripped down to her panties. Then she turned away and folded herself in half in one of the only yoga poses she could remember and looked at him through the gap in her legs. He was writhing in the cuffs like a man drowning.

“You like?” she asked.

Caleb nodded, but by the size of his hard-on she already knew the answer. She stripped off her panties and tossed them at him. Then she crawled on top of him and straddled him on the bed. She was resting with her ass on his thighs and her pelvis just beneath his, and he rose so far up her belly she couldn’t believe all of him would fit. She raised herself up and leaned forward, resting her weight on one hand and reaching back behind with the other and wrapping him in her fingers—and then she lowered herself down, guiding him to her, down, down, guiding him inside her, down, down. He closed his eyes and exhaled the breath he had been holding, and she watched his face slacken with ecstasy as she rode him, up and down, sliding her hips forward and back, feeling him, deep and pulsing, the man she loved back inside her where he belonged.

Jane meant to go slow and continue his torture, but even for her the game was up. She placed her hands flat on his chest and fucked him like she’d never fucked another man. She was riding him hard, clutching his chest and flailing her hair, feeling her breasts bounce and letting herself go completely with wild moans of pleasure, when there was a tremendous crash and they
both dropped. But she hardly could have cared. She was swimming in deep ecstasy, as if she were there in the room but yet she wasn’t. Then every thought and fear she had ever had in her life was swept away, as if they had never been, as she was caught up in a flood of sweet relief so vast, it threatened to sweep her away to a place from which she would never wish to come back. Had she been able to think at all, she would have known without a doubt that it was the best orgasm of her life.

Jane was lying flat against his sweaty chest, quivering and panting, and when she finally looked up, she saw that his poor hands were caught up high above his head because the mattress had fallen again through the frame and was resting on the floor. And he was looking at her with an expression that suggested both admiration and fear. Then Caleb laughed.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she said. “Are your wrists okay?”

“I think my wrists are all right for the moment, but there’s something else I need released.”

“Oh, baby, what’s hurt?”

“I didn’t come yet, honey.”

“Oh, gosh. I’m sorry. It always happens at the same time when they’re doing it like this in the books I read.”

“Is that where you’ve been getting these ideas?” he asked, laughing. “How about we get these crazy things off me so I can make love to you.”

Jane rose on rubber legs, still reeling from her orgasm, then retrieved the key and freed him. He immediately took her in his arms and laid her out on the broken bed and kissed her. His lips were soft and his hands gentle, a sweet contrast to what she had just experienced. His mouth was still on hers when he slipped inside her. She was drenched from the flood and he was harder than ever, so they coupled almost without trying.

Caleb rested his weight on one arm and stroked her cheek
with that hand while he cupped her breast with his other, and she could feel the cold steel of the handcuff that was still attached to that wrist. He never stopped kissing her as he thrust himself deeper and harder, as if he might meld them together into one being so that no man or woman would ever again see either of them as just one, as if by some miraculous fusion they might conjoin there on the bed and lie forever embraced, nothing between them but the constant pulse of pleasure and the sweet dealings of private love.

He began to move faster, and his breath was pushing into her lungs with each thrust, and then she heard a kind of high-pitched cross between a scream and a whimper, and she felt his muscles clench and his entire body shudder and she was suddenly full and warm. It felt so good, Jane was sure she was going to come again, but she didn’t.

He sighed and collapsed on the mattress next to her and laid his head on her chest. She could feel his breathing, still fast but slowing, and she could smell the salt from his sweat. The room seemed to float in empty space. She heard a siren outside somewhere, completely disconnected from her and his reality. Another world. Perhaps another time.

Remember this moment, Jane told herself. Lock it away with absolute clarity to recall someday when you’re unsure of just what is this thing we call love. Because this is love and love is this. This feeling. This moment. This glorious afterglow.

They lay there together for a long time, neither of them speaking. And she would have willingly lain like that forever had she not glanced up at the clock.

“Oh, shit. I’ve gotta go, babe. I’m late for work.”

He tried to pull her back down, but she was already scrabbling up out of the broken bed and rushing to the closet for her uniform. She had slipped on her panties and was pulling
on the uniform pants when she realized that she had better hit the bathroom first to avoid an embarrassing emergency. When she came out again, she was dressed. Caleb was still lying on the mattress with a contented look on his face.

“Your uniform’s way hot,” he said. “I didn’t know they fit like that.”

“They usually don’t,” she replied, grabbing her work belt from the closet and strapping it on. “I shrank it in the dryer just to look cute for you.”

“Well, I’ll bet you’ve got guys lined up at expired meters just begging to get ticketed.”

She laughed. “I wish. There’s plenty of food in the fridge if you’re hungry. Do you need your bag from the car?”

“Nah, it’ll be fine in the trunk.”

“Okay, I’ve got the bar beat tonight so I’ll be home just after midnight.”

“You sure you’re safe out there?” he asked.

“I am now that I’ve got my whistle,” she said, smiling.

She stopped at the bedroom door to take one last look at Caleb’s naked perfection, something to carry with her on her shift. “I love you, baby. Welcome home.”

“I love you too, Jane.”

She turned to go and had grabbed her purse and made it as far as the door when she heard him call her name. She glanced back. He was standing in the bedroom doorway with the handcuffs dangling from his wrist.

“Where’s the key for these?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “A girl can’t be expected to keep track of everything. You’ll probably find it on the floor when you fix the bed.”

“Fix the bed? But I thought you didn’t need a man.”

She smiled at him. “Why fix something yourself when you can get a man to fix it? That’s a woman’s motto, you know.”

Caleb had the bed apart and nearly fixed by the time he found the key and freed his wrist from the handcuffs. He laughed as he slipped them back into Jane’s drawer. Then he took a hot shower.

It was quiet in the apartment without Jane. Too quiet. Now that he was back, he wasn’t used to her having a job to go to, and he began to appreciate all those days she had spent alone while he had been working. He kicked around and picked a few things up, and then he decided to go out for a walk and clear his head.

The air was humid. Dark clouds had piled up on the horizon with tendrils of rain dropping down and catching the last rays of sunset, giving the horizon a strange and heavy appearance, as if the sky itself were bleeding. Caleb stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked on.

He heard chatter in restaurants that he passed and laughter in the bars. He heard bands warming up, street musicians banging plastic-bucket drums, and sirens crossing one another in the distance. He heard everything and it was all coming in as waves of color that he let wash over him as he trod the sidewalk at a steady pace, letting his footfalls keep the beat.

He thought about his childhood dreams of being a musician and escaping the constant longing that came with cold streets and having little or nothing to eat. He thought about all the lonely hours crashed in strange apartments, writing songs about heartache and injustice. He thought about the day he’d first seen Jane’s daughter, Melody, and he remembered more than anything the look of impossible hope burning deep in those sad and tortured eyes. And he remembered seeing the same look again in Jane. Only her sadness had been more real, her hope more hidden.

He sometimes felt as though Melody had crossed his path
as a foreshadowing to his falling in love with Jane, the coin they had passed back and forth a talisman that would lead Jane to him. And he thought about the inequity of such a position, the injustice of fate. Oh, the hands that had passed that coin without knowing its ultimate purpose, the hands that worked somewhere still in the background, perhaps passing a talisman for each of us until it someday found its place.

These thoughts came crashing in on top of one another and he was powerless to stop them unless he gave them a voice in song, and so he began to hum a melody and work these rambling musings into lyrics. This was why he made music; this was his art. Not some silly TV show where he’d be competing with Twitter kids hoping for followers and fortune and fame.

He was torn. He didn’t want to go back to the show. He feared it might ruin him. But he wanted more than anything to provide for Jane. To be a man she could both love and respect. To give her the wedding she deserved and had never had. To give her a home. To give her a child. To give her love. He wanted these things more than he had wanted anything in all the days since he’d found the courage to even dare to dream. But he was still torn, and he hoped above all else that whatever his decision, it wouldn’t prove to tear them apart in the end.

The crack and rumble of thunder cut through his thoughts and they fell away somewhere behind him in the night. The first raindrops hit the ground in front of him, but he only hunched his shoulders and walked on.

Jane walked the blocks surrounding Sixth Street, dodging the rickshaws and the drunks. She glanced routinely at the meter receipts on the cars as she passed them, but her mind was somewhere else.

Her mind was on Caleb.

She was happy to have him home, even if for just the next few weeks. And as sad as she knew she would be to see him leave again, she was happy that he had made the live show. But she feared his disappointment if he didn’t win. She would never forget the defeated expression on his face when he had walked out of that audition after getting that judge’s thumbs-down. And she knew that the rejection would only be worse the closer he was to success.

If she were honest with herself, she had to admit that she was equally fearful that he might win. She wanted it for him, but she feared it for them. She feared how everything would shift if he did.

Jane had been the breadwinner when they had met. Then she had followed him down here, and being unemployed, and, in a way, dependent, had been terrible. And as much as she hated handing out citations for a living, she was happy to be earning an honest wage and paying her part. She was in love. She was happy with their life. She didn’t want it to change.

She thought she heard someone call her name and looked up. But she saw no face she recognized on the busy sidewalks, only people shuffling by with their hoods up and their heads bent. She hadn’t even noticed that it had started to rain.

She closed the flap on her ticket pouch, zipped up her jacket, and kept on walking.

Chapter 14

J
ane could tell Caleb was getting more and more nervous the closer they got to their destination. He kept fiddling with the car’s climate control, even though the temperature was fine.

“Are you sure we have to go?” he asked.

“Of course we do. They’re getting together to watch you.”

“I know, but can’t we just watch it from home?”

She shook her head. “Not after all the trouble Mr. Zigler went to.”

“What trouble?”

“I think he’s set up a projection screen in the warehouse and everything.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. And he said he’s got plenty of chairs and food, and that he might even crack open a few cases of beer for the guys to enjoy on the house. They’re all very proud of you.”

“Who’s they? I thought just the guys from the warehouse were going to be there.”

“No. Jeremy’s coming too. And he’s bringing your music buddies. After all, they were at the show I taped that landed you the audition.”

Caleb sighed and looked out the window.

“Oh my,” Jane said. “I’ve never seen you so shy. There’s no reason to be nervous, Caleb.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“Yes, you are.”

Jane pulled in and parked. She took the brownies she’d baked from the backseat, and they got out and walked together
across the twilit parking lot toward the bright yellow glow of the open warehouse door. She had talked at length with Mr. Zigler about his plans for the evening, but even so, she wasn’t prepared for what awaited them.

Clusters of colorful balloons were everywhere, along with an enormous arch of silver Mylar balloon letters strung together that read:
CONGRATULATIONS!
A
WELCOME HOME
banner hung on the wall. There were tables of treats, and coolers with soda and beer. An enormous projection screen hung from a high storage rack with folding chairs lined up in front of it, and behind the chairs a projector was mounted on the roof of a forklift. Power and cable cords were taped to the floor, leading to Mr. Zigler’s office.

And there were people, lots of people. Mr. Zigler stood with a woman who Jane thought must be his wife. The warehouse workers were there, and Caleb’s friends. As soon as one group ceased chattering to look at her and Caleb as they entered, there was a moment of intense quiet. Then someone clapped and they all followed with wild applause and even cheers.

Jane had never seen Caleb blush so much as he did in that moment. But his shyness and fear seemed to melt away beneath the warm smiles of so many friendly faces, and he soon rushed to say hello to everyone. Jane followed him, carrying her brownies and smiling with pride.

“We knew you’d do it, kid,” Mr. Zigler announced, patting Caleb on the back. “You’re the absolute top. First-class. The real deal. And when you get famous, I’m having custom beer labels designed with your picture on them. They’ll fly off the shelves like hotcakes in a hurricane. I’ll do a nonalcoholic version for you nondrinkers, of course.” Then he turned to Jane. “Thanks for sharing him with us tonight, Jane. It’s mighty generous of you. I don’t believe you’ve met my wife, April.”

His wife smiled and said, “So you’re the one my husband claims has been fattening him up with all those lunches.”

Jane laughed and nodded that she was in fact the one, offering Mrs. Zigler a brownie from her plate to prove it. She offered one to Mr. Zigler too, saying, “I’ve learned you’ve got to feed the troll to get through the door in this place.”

“It’s the same at home, dear,” Mrs. Zigler joked. “I’ve taken to hiding my weekly ration of almond biscotti in the dryer, because laundry seems to be the one thing he’s afraid of.”

Mr. Zigler grinned and snapped his fingers. “Dang it,” he said. “That’s the one place I hadn’t looked.” Then he turned to address Caleb. “So, Caleb, catch us up on everything. Jane said you’re going through to the live show, but she didn’t say much else.”

The others had drifted over to listen in, and by the time Caleb answered, he was addressing the entire crowd.

“Well, I think we’re going to see the two-hour premiere tonight. But don’t feel like you need to watch the entire thing just for me. In fact, I’m fine if we just visit and don’t even turn it on. Anyway, the shows will air twice each week for the next few weeks, and you’ll see artists perform and then either get passed through or get eliminated.”

“But you went through, right?” Jeremy asked, pausing with his beer bottle at his lips.

“I did,” Caleb answered, nodding. “Although they paired me up with another artist and put us through as a duet.”

Jeremy almost spit a mouthful of beer. “A duet? I haven’t seen you sing a duet since a hammered fan took the stage way back in Seattle’s Shark Club days.”

Caleb shrugged, as if to suggest that he wasn’t happy about it, but that it was out of his control.

“Well, who is he?” Jeremy asked. “Who’s your partner?”

“She,” Caleb said. “It’s a girl. Her name’s Jordyn.”

“Jordyn? Why does that sound so familiar? It’s not Jordyn-with-a-
y
, is it?”

Caleb nodded that it was.

“Dude, I follow her on Facebook. She’s crazy hot.” Then he glanced at Jane and sucked air through his teeth as if he were in pain. “Sorry, Jane. I’m just a fan girl when it comes to Jordyn.”

“It’s okay,” Jane said, shrugging off his comment. “I’m a fan girl now too. When they were competing, I checked out her music. She’s good. And I think they’ll make a great duo.”

There were several seconds of awkward silence. Then one of the older warehouse workers stepped up and plucked a brownie off of Jane’s tray. “You don’t mind, do you, ma’am?” he asked. “I’ve been eyeing them from across the way there.”

Jane smiled, grateful to have the subject changed. “No, I don’t mind, Tim. And you know me well enough to call me Jane. Here, have another. And pass them around too.”

There was a loud chirping sound and Mr. Zigler glanced at his wristwatch and silenced its alarm. He clapped his hands. “It’s time, everyone. Grab something to drink and take your seats. And don’t forget to turn off your cell phones. We don’t want any interruptions during the show.”

As everyone scattered to find seats, Mr. Zigler climbed up onto the forklift and fired up the projector. It flashed blue on the screen, searching for a signal. He called for someone to kill the lights, and one of the workers rose and went to switch them off. Then they sat in the dark, staring at the blue-glowing screen and listening to Mr. Zigler fiddle with the connections and cuss. Then the channel came through and they were watching a commercial for an erectile dysfunction pill. Everyone laughed.

“Better pay attention, boss,” one of the workers called. “Couple more years and you’ll be needing these for sure.”

“He’s already tried to get them,” his wife replied from her seat. “Doctor won’t give them up because of his heart.”

Everyone laughed again.

“April, you hush up,” he called from the forklift. “One more word and I’m eating all your biscotti when we get home.”

The commercial ended and the screen went momentarily black. Then a single sheet of music appeared and caught fire, burning to the beat of a drum until only the
Singer-Songwriter Superstar
logo remained.

Jane was sitting next to Caleb and she reached and took his hand in hers. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. The logo faded and the screen flashed through images of various cities while a voice-over announcer explained the show and the audition process. They seemed to be pitching themselves as a fast-paced
American Idol
, promising quicker results and gritty drama while searching for real talent who could both write and perform their own songs. Then they introduced the judges and explained their industry credentials. Then it was on to the auditions.

The first city up was Chicago, and they flashed through snippets of Windy City hopefuls, showing those who received five thumbs-up from the judges, and a few outlandish losers just to mix it up. After a commercial, they moved on to New York. When Jordyn walked onstage, they showed the judges all stop talking and pay attention. Then she played her song and they montage-cut to the big power-note finish and five smiling judges all with their thumbs in the air. Then on to Seattle. Then to Los Angeles. Then to Austin. They showed the line outside the convention center, and Jane thought she caught a glimpse of her and Caleb, but it flashed by so fast she couldn’t be sure. Panda’s audition stole the show. Even Jeremy leaned back in his seat to look at Caleb and said, “Dude, she’s going to be tough to beat.”

After Panda, they edited out the ukulele-playing twins who had come next and cut straight to Caleb. He walked out onto the stage and everyone in the warehouse watching clapped and cheered and turned to smile at him in the dark. Jane squeezed his hand. They showed quite a bit of the exchange between him and the judges, including Caleb’s joke to the one judge that he was seeing yellow because of the stage lights and not because of his synesthesia. They showed a close-up of her scowling while the other judges laughed. Then they showed the opening of his song, cutting away to the judges’ enthusiastic expressions, then cutting back to show Caleb’s finish. The thumbs went up and everyone cheered. They didn’t show the judge turn her thumb down or bother explaining that Caleb had been called back because another artist had been caught plagiarizing someone.

There was a long commercial break where everyone stood and stretched and grabbed something to eat or drink. A few of the warehouse workers stepped outside for cigarettes. Then the show was back on and everyone drifted back to their seats.

The final segment began as a fast-paced, drama-filled teaser for the episodes yet to come. They opened with a pair of contestants fighting in the hotel hallway, one girl pulling the other’s hair and calling her a karaoke queen. They showed snippets of judges critiquing performances, segments of artists pulling late nights in the rehearsal room working on songs, and clips of tearful contestants worried they were about to be sent home.

And woven through it all, they showed what appeared to be a budding romance between Jordyn and Caleb. It started with apparent glances from across the room. Then they showed Jordyn walking up and taking Caleb’s guitar from him and playing his song. They showed him laugh and smile shyly. They cut to the two of them rehearsing a duet together. They showed her touch his arm. They showed him blush. The editing was so
seamless and masterful that Jane found herself almost believing it for a moment, wondering if it could possibly be true.

The show ended with a montage of tantalizing images and the voice-over announcer saying, “Tune in next Tuesday for more amazing singer-songwriter performances, more bitter rivalries, more angst, and more forbidden love.”

When the announcer said this last line about forbidden love, Caleb’s face flashed onscreen, his intense green eyes staring off at something, followed by a quick cut to Jordyn, batting her eyelashes and looking down as if she had been the object of Caleb’s longing stare. Then the
Singer-Songwriter Superstar
logo appeared and the credits rolled.

The channel had just cut to a car commercial when Mr. Zigler killed the projector. The screen went dark and everyone sat quietly in the shadows. Jane could hear Mr. Zigler’s feet crossing the warehouse floor to turn on the lights. They flickered, then stayed on, and they seemed to Jane to be altogether too bright.

“That was great,” one of the warehouse workers said.

“That was total bullshit is what that was,” Caleb replied.

“Come on, honey,” Jane said. “It’s just Hollywood drama.”

“I can’t fucking believe they did that to me, Jane. And to you. It’s not right. Now I see why they sent us through as a duet. It’s all part of some screwed-up reality TV ratings stunt.”

“It’s okay, Caleb.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Mr. Zigler had crossed to the dessert table and was busy packing things up. “Anyone want to take these cream cheese bars?” he called over his shoulder. “My wife’ll put them in the garbage and pour dish soap on them if I bring them home.”

It was clear he was offering a change of subject, and most everyone jumped at the chance. They flocked to the table to gather leftovers, they moved to put away chairs, they crushed
cans for recycling, each of them suddenly busy with something.

Each of them except Jane and Caleb, of course, who stood looking at each other in front of the blank screen.

“I had nothing to do with that, Jane,” Caleb stated firmly. “You have to believe me.”

The headlights from oncoming traffic were nearly blinding her, so Jane resisted the urge to look over at him and kept her eyes on the road instead.

“Baby, could you—”

“They did that with movie magic or some shit, Jane. None of that was real. The glances. The blushing. I mean, they took entirely different footage and stitched it together—”

“Honey, I get it. But would you mind—”

“And I feel so bad that you had to watch that. And in front of all those people too.”

“Caleb, I need—”

“I’m so sorry, Jane. Can you forgive me? I’m not going back. I’ll sue them. I’ll do whatever it takes to show you—”