* * *
The insideof the bar is dark and crowded. A DJ sets up the karaoke equipment in the corner while a crowd of would-be singers mobs the bar to work up their courage. I glance around for Jackson, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
“You looking for Jackson, too, then?” Cappy asks as Rob excuses himself to go chat with some members of the crew.
“Yeah, I don’t think he’s here yet,” I say, trying not to let my disappointment show. I spy Marco at a table on the second level of the bar. He’s sitting with Paula and Owen and waves me and Cappy over.
“Cappy, this is Marco, Paula, and Owen. Everyone, this is Cappy,” I make the introductions, and everyone slides over to make room for me. Cappy pulls an extra chair over to the end of the table, turns it around backwards and sits, straddling the seat. He seems antsy.
“Have any of you seen Jackson?” Cappy asks. “I was hoping to give him something,” he pats the breast pocket of the white dinner jacket he has on with his jeans.
“I saw him at the bar with Alexis earlier,” Owen says.
“Okay then,” Cappy says, looking extremely disappointed. “I hope I haven’t missed him.”
“I’m sure he’ll be along soon,” I reassure him.
“Who here’s singing?” I ask the group.
“Marco is singing! I have prepared a special song!” Marco beams.
“You have?” I ask.
“Si! Marco is ready to serenade his Bella!” Marco leans back in his seat and smolders at all of us. He can’t help it. With his hooded bedroom eyes, perfectly chiseled features, and tailored Italian wardrobe, he is objectively hot as hell.
But he’s not Jackson, and this could get awkward. The room feels too close. Too many people. Too much energy. Anxiousness and excitement, anticipation, horniness, and hopefulness. Regret and resignation. There are too many messages blending, overlapping, and coming in at me all at once.
“I can’t wait to hear you sing,” Paula pipes up. She is sitting next to Marco and turns to smile adoringly in his direction. Marco stretches his arm out on the bench behind her, fingers lightly grazing her shoulder, a gesture that Owen, sitting on Paula’s other side, totally misses. But Cappy sees.
Cappy meets my eye, nodding in their direction, and raises his brows at me. I shrug in response. It’s like we’ve had a whole conversation, without saying a word. Cappy smiles a little and shakes his head.
“There they are!” Owen suddenly jumps up, waving at the door. “Alexis! Jackson!”
Alexis leads Jackson over, and he collapses into the chair opposite me.
“Hello, Isla,” he says, slurring slightly. Then he notices Cappy. “And Cappy! You made it back for drinks! Excellent! What can I get for you?”
“I’m fine, Son,” Cappy holds up his Coke. “I don’t drink. But you look like you’ve had a few–”
“Two shots,” Alexis holds up two fingers. She’s talking to us, but her eyes are glued to Owen’s. “Jackson’s such a lightweight.”
“I’m not a big drinker,” Jackson agrees. “My old man was a drunk. Gotta be careful.”
“Hmmph. Fair enough.” Cappy studies Jackson and frowns, “Is there somewhere you need to sign up to sing?”
“Yes, you must check in over there,” Marco points at the DJ stand.
“Be right back,” Cappy pushes his chair back, leaving his soda behind.
“You all are in for a treat,” Alexis announces to the table before she stands up. She holds a hand out to Owen. He rises beside her.
“You stay here,” Alexis pokes Jackson in the chest. “Owen and I will get you signed up.” The two of them head in the same direction that Cappy just went.
Suddenly it’s just me, Marco, Jackson, and Paula at the table.
“You’re going to sing?” I ask Jackson, surprised.
“I am,” he states confidently.
