Page 53 of Heart and Soul
“Really?”
He thinks for a moment, then adds, “Until she met Elle, of course.”
“Oh, of course. That’s a given.”
“I’m not joking.”
“Neither am I.”
We’re both smiling. Jay says, “Haley would have been like Russo, you know. She could have handled this. All this.” He searches my eyes for something—maybe validation.
I squeeze his shoulder. “I know, Jay.”
He gives me an approving nod, as though we’ve just concluded an important piece of business, and he returns to sweeping his gaze over the crowd. Back to the job.
I can’t. I’m lost in the moment. Needing to be even closer to him, I slip both arms around his waist and press my cheek to his chest. Probably getting blood in my hair, but who cares. Jay wraps his arms around my back and places his chin on my head.
I spend the rest of that slow dance lost in deep thought. I think about my conversation with Russo, how Jay’s like a blank page—he spent so much time on the job, being somebody he’s not, letting others do the thinking for him. He never really became his own person. I have to admit that I can’t answer a lot of easy questions about Jay. Does he have any hobbies? What kind of vacation would he enjoy? What’s his favorite food? Favorite movie? I’m sure he could answer all these questions about me.
Shit and a sigh. Okay, reader, I’m going to admit something, but you can’t roll your eyes, and I definitely don’t want to hear you say “Duh!” Here it is: I think with Jay I’ve been a little…selfish.
I know, I know, shut up. It’s just that I’ve been so focused on wanting him and enjoying the way he wants me, that I haven’t ever stopped to think about him in a way that’s not still all about me. Does that even make sense?
I want to do something—Ineedto do something—that’s just for him, nothing about me. Something that’s, like, all thoughtful and shit, I don’t know. I have no idea what that could be. Well, actually, a thought occurs to me that I do know something he really likes, but the idea makes me gag.Bleh!There’s no way in hell I’d ever love somebody enough to go there.
Ew. Forget it; being thoughtful is the worst.
At the end of the dance, Russo ramps into a rock song with a flourish of hands that whips the drums into a frenzy and the horns screaming. The crowd responds with a burst of applause for an old classic they know well. As they clap to the beat, Russo conjures a fedora and a harmonica, which he seems to make love to with his mouth.
“What, now he’s the Blues Brothers?”
“Believe me,” Jay says, “this brings the house down at cop parties.”
Finishing a wild intro with the harmonica, Russo takes a breath and talks to the beat of the audience’s clapping. “I’m so happy to be here tonight. Glad to be here in your wonderful city.”
Several shouts ofAmen!ring out. The rhythmic clapping has grown to a deafening thunder.
“I have a little message for you all. Something to tell every woman and every man and every whatever the hell else is out there.”
Huge uproar of approval. Some laughter.
“What I have to say can save the whole world, and what I have to say is this…” Russo strikes a dramatic pose as he begins singing with a strong, sassy voice. “‘Everybody. Needs somebody.’” He throws his hands out to the crowd, inviting them to join in. “‘Everybody. Needs somebody…to love.’”
Someone to love, the crowd shouts in unison.
“‘And I need you, you, you.’” Russo points his finger, redirecting his spotlight onto a beautiful young sorceress. She responds with her best shimmy and shake, but it’s not enough to tempt Russo. He points his finger at another woman—a busty werewolf—and she goes to work, grinding her body against him. While appreciative, Russo is still not satisfied, and he moves on to other women, roaming through the crowd with his spotlight as he belts out the rest of the song. “‘Everybody needs somebody, and I need you, you, you.’” Each time he rejects a woman, the crowd goes crazy with growing anticipation.
Hillerman elbows her way to my side. “I think we had a bite. Two guys at the bar—both demons. Haven’t taken their eyes off Russo since he came in.”
“Has anybody? Besides you, I mean.”
“One of them used a phone to send a text. When a response came back, he showed it to the other guy, and now they’re both headed for the exit.”
“They’re leaving? Did we strike out?”
“What do you think? They want a sorcerer with a dark side, not Frank Sinatra.”
“He’s fine. Power is power.”
