Playing With Fire (12 page)

Twelve

Jessica stood before the bathroom mirror putting the finishing touches on her makeup. The line she drew around her lips with her deep rose liner gave her lower lip the pouty look Bruce found so appealing. With her hair piled high on her head and her body poured into the tight black dress she'd bought especially for that night, Jessica was seduction personified—and she knew it. “If this doesn't get Bruce's heart pumping, the guy has ice water for blood,” she told her reflection. Tonight she planned to go all out to make things between Bruce and her perfect again, and her outfit was guaranteed to get things off to a fast start.

After dabbing on a healthy amount of Bruce's favorite cologne in all the right places, she gathered the half dozen gift boxes she'd so carefully wrapped and carried them downstairs to the front hallway. Excited about the glorious night to come, Jessica waited for her boyfriend to arrive.

Fifteen anxious minutes later the black Porsche pulled up in front of the Wakefield house. Without even waiting for the beep of the horn, Jessica let herself out and ran as fast as she could to the car. “Hi, Bruce,” she said, smiling. “Happy birthday.”

Bruce leaned across to the passenger side and opened the door. Jessica slid in, resting the packages on her lap. “These for me?” he asked offhandedly.

“They're all for you, birthday boy.”

“Great.” Casually he tossed them into the back of the car.

That wasn't the reaction Jessica had expected. “Aren't you going to open them?”

“Later.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “In the meantime let's have some fun.” He kissed her again, this time straight and hard on the lips.

Jessica's carefully drawn pout was smudged—and her ego was bruised. She felt he could at least have said something about the way she looked before getting physical. “Aren't you going to say anything about my dress?” she asked.

Bruce gave her a long, lingering once-over. “Delicious, baby. But you're going to be a little overdressed for the party.”

“What party?” Jessica asked, astonished.

“That's the surprise I told you about. It's going to be great, baby. Lots of food, lots of music, everyone from school—”

“But I thought it was going to be just the two of us,” Jessica whined, seeing her plans for a private celebration dissolve in the cool evening air.

Bruce tapped the steering wheel and chuckled. “Come on, Jess, I did it for you. You're the one who wanted to do more things with the gang. I told everyone not to tell you. I thought you'd be real happy! Besides, you didn't think I'd let my eighteenth birthday pass unnoticed, did you?”

“You said you wanted to spend it with me,” she said softly, her lower lip beginning to tremble. “An intimate night. You promised.”

“And that's exactly what we'll have,” he said, leering. “After the party. Like down at the beach, for instance?” Taking his right hand off the stick shift, he ran it down Jessica's half-covered thigh.

*   *   *

The private dining room where Bruce's party was being held was already filled close to capacity by the time Bruce and Jessica arrived. “Here's the party boy!” Ken Matthews shouted. A chorus of “Happy Birthday” followed.

Jessica sang along with the others as she watched Bruce beam in delight. He was clearly in his element, the star of the evening, and Jessica had the sickening feeling that he loved it more than any moment the two of them had ever shared.

But she quickly put that out of her mind as Bruce led her over to a table near the empty band platform. “The best seat in the house,” he told her. Leaning over her chair, he added, “I've got to make the rounds. Be back as soon as I can.”

As Bruce mingled with his guests, Jessica sat alone, trying her best to appear totally unconcerned with his absence. She took her lipstick out of her black satin evening purse and redrew the line on her lower lip. But she couldn't spend all night fixing her makeup, and after a few minutes of examining the contents of her purse, she sat back and peered into the crowd impatiently.

She groaned inwardly when Robin Wilson cut through the crowd and headed for her table. Bruce really
had
invited everybody.

“Oooh, Jessica, you look gorgeous!” Robin gushed.

Jessica couldn't force herself to return the compliment. Wearing a pink-and-white striped dress—horizontal stripes, no less—Robin looked like the poster girl for a cotton candy company. “What are you doing here?” Jessica asked grumpily.

“I couldn't believe it when Bruce invited me. He wanted me to come because I was your special friend. Isn't this place heaven? Everyone's here!”

You can say that again,
Jessica thought, staring at the table where Bruce was chatting with a few of the girls from the cheerleading squad. Did he still think of them as “chicks with fat thighs”? she wondered.

“I'm going to check out the food,” Robin told her. “See you later.”

Elizabeth arrived not too long afterward with Todd. She was shocked to see her sister sitting by herself. “I've got to talk to her,” she told Todd.

“Are you sure? The ice princess doesn't look like she wants to be bothered,” Todd said.

“Oh, Todd, stop being so hard on her,” Elizabeth said. Pointing to the buffet table near the window, she remarked, “Look, there's Winston over by the hors d'oeuvres. Why don't you go keep him company? I'll be back in a minute.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before easing her way between the tables to her twin.

Jessica smiled warmly at her sister and admired the teal-blue, cowl-necked dress she had on. “You look great, Liz. It's a wonderful party, isn't it?”

Elizabeth was surprised to find Jessica in such a good mood. “I guess it is,” she managed to say.

“Yes, I told Bruce having a party for everyone was the only way to celebrate his birthday. It was great of you to try and keep it a surprise for me.”

“You mean you
knew
about this party?” Elizabeth was astonished.

“Well, not really,” Jessica faltered. “But I'm very happy about it. I love being with all my friends. Anyway, more than anything, I wanted to look perfect for Bruce—and I think I did a pretty good job, don't you agree?”

Elizabeth was near tears as she listened to Jessica trying to cover up for Bruce. She almost let loose with another angry tirade against her sister's selfish boyfriend, but she realized her words would only fall on deaf ears. “Where is Bruce, anyway?” she asked instead.

“You can't expect him to hang on my arm all night, not when he has all these guests to entertain,” Jessica answered defensively, scanning the room for him. Just then The Droids came bounding onto the stage and began tuning up. “There he is now!” Jessica said excitedly.

Elizabeth followed her sister's gaze. “I hope you have a good time tonight, Jess,” she said, hoping against hope that her worst fears about Bruce were unfounded. “I've got to talk to Emily. See you later.”

After Emily finished adjusting her drum set, Elizabeth asked, “What happened to your club date? I thought you were playing out at the beach tonight.”

“Canceled,” Emily said, and from the expression on her face, she didn't seem upset about it at all.

“What happened?”

Emily shook her head ruefully. “We were duped. Tony never had any intention of leading us to the big time.”

“I thought he was legitimate.”

“We thought so, too, but it seems Guy didn't check hard enough into his background. Tony really did work at that management company he told us about—only they fired him about a month before he came to us. For incompetence. He happened to know the guys who own those two places we played at, but it turns out that music wasn't even the reason he got involved with us in the first place.”

“Then what was?” Elizabeth asked.

Emily looked sheepishly at Elizabeth. “He had the hots for Dana,” she confided. “For weeks he kept calling her—and driving Guy nuts in the process—and we couldn't figure out why. Dana didn't say anything to us until the other day when he finally tried to score with her. She said no way and threw him out. We haven't heard from him since.”

“You don't seem too broken up about it.”

“Funny, isn't it?” Emily said. “We spent all that time working our tails off, and now that it's over, do you know what we're all feeling? Relief. Remember that day you came over to watch us rehearse, and you thought you'd caught us on a bad day? It was like that
every
day. We were always on each other's nerves, criticizing every wrong note, every false move. It wasn't fun anymore. We talked it over afterward, and we all agreed if that's what getting to the top is all about, then we're just not ready for it yet. We're better off hanging around Sweet Valley and playing at school and stuff like this party.”

“So you're not disappointed?”

“Sure,” Emily said wistfully. “I'm disappointed. But at least now I'll have the time to do those chemistry projects for Mr. Russo. Some consolation, huh?”

“I guess that's show business,” Elizabeth quipped.

In the meantime someone had noticed the empty chair next to Jessica—Winston. He still cared deeply for her, and more than anything, he wanted her to be happy. Knowing Jessica, he couldn't believe she could enjoy being by herself in the middle of a crowd. After helping himself to some punch, he meandered around the room trying to get up the courage to approach her. By the time he did, The Droids had played several numbers, and the dance floor was packed with couples.

“Uh, the lady looks like she could use a dance partner.”

Jessica turned away from the dancing area, where she'd watched Bruce take the floor with Lila Fowler for the second time. “Sorry, Win, I'm sitting this one out.”

“I've been practicing a lot since last time we danced.”

“Good for you, Win. There's always room for improvement.”

“That's my line,” he said, grinning. “Actually, I'm OK as long as I have space out there to do my stuff on the fast dances. Want to see?”

“I'll watch,” she said curtly.

“Come on, Jessica,” he urged. “I'll even throw in a few handstands and cartwheels. But I need you up there with me. What do you say? Just one dance.”

“Sorry, Win,” she repeated. “Bruce promised me the next dance, and this one's almost over. I think you're going to have to do your cartwheels solo.”

He remained undaunted. “How about the one after that?”

“Not tonight. And I think you'd better leave now,” she whispered. “Bruce is coming over here, and he's not going to like your talking to me.”

“Well, excuse me for going near the big shot's property. See you around, Jessica.” Thrusting his hands into his jacket pockets, Winston walked away in a huff. He sought out Elizabeth and Todd at the buffet table. “Your sister's impossible,” he grumbled to Elizabeth. “Doesn't she realize he's ignoring her?”

“Don't look now, you two,” Todd said, “but the party boy's suddenly remembered he came with a date.”

Bruce unbuttoned his shirt collar as he approached Jessica. “Hey, baby, having a good time?”

Her heart melted. “The best,” she purred, “now that you're here. Have a seat.”

Bruce put his arm on her shoulder and gave it a little rub. “Gee, I'm sorry, Jessica, but I promised the next dance to Caroline. You understand, don't you?”

“Certainly, Bruce. I understand completely,” she said with false sweetness he did not pick up on. The rage she had felt when he ignored her problem with Mr. Russo began to return.
What,
she thought,
is going on here?

Bruce didn't ignore Jessica totally, however. During the last dance of the evening, a slow ballad, he held her tightly and nibbled at her ear.
This is more like it,
Jessica thought, her anger starting to subside.

“What do you say we blow this place?” Bruce whispered. “It's getting too formal for me.”

“Where to, Bruce? The beach?”

He chuckled. “I like the way you think, babe. But first I want to grab a bite at Guido's. The food here stinks.”

“You're going to leave your own party?”

“No, baby, I'm taking the party with me.”

“I'm ready whenever you are,” she said, looking adoringly into his eyes.

Less than ten minutes later the two of them were nestled in Bruce's Porsche, heading down the winding, hilly road to Guido's Pizza Palace in the heart of town, a caravan of cars following them to the party's next location.

Thirteen

Bruce's crowd took up an entire section of Guido's, a popular hangout on one of Sweet Valley's main streets. Jukebox music filled the room, background for the conversation dominated by none other than Bruce Patman.

“So next week I'm taking the black beauty down to the Mojave for another road rally. She's running so well now there's no way I can lose.”

“Gee, Bruce, I'd love to watch,” Jessica offered. “Can I come?”

“Sorry, baby, it's hot and dirty. You wouldn't like it.” Brushing her aside, he turned to John, who was polishing off his third slice of pizza. “Say, buddy, you ‘taking odds on the tennis regionals?”

“I'd be a fool to bet on anyone but you,” John answered dryly.

“Bruce is going to win, for sure,” Jessica declared, but she could have been talking to the air for all the attention she got from him.

Minutes later, Elizabeth and Todd entered Guido's. Elizabeth looked at Jessica, who was obviously feeling left out, and wondered how much longer it would take before Jessica finally woke up.

The crafty old Jessica simply didn't exist anymore. Instead, a meek, compliant young lady had taken over and was staring worshipfully at Bruce. The old Jessica would never have let a boy walk all over her like this, Elizabeth thought. And no one, not even Bruce Patman, was worth the humiliation he was putting her through.