Page 80 of Jesse

Dark brothers with dark secrets. And that little admission Jesse gave me the other night was just the beginning.

The elevator is as austere as the lobby. Plain stainless-steel box. But it’s quick and the floors tick off in rapid succession as we ascend.

Then we’re there. The doors open and before me is… not what I expected. At all.

Because it’s another lobby. A vast long lobby with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the twinkling night skyline of the city.

And standing at the windows, dead center in this lobby, and backlit by the city lights, is Jesse.

He turns to face me as I walk forward, my wedges silent on the shiny black floors.

“Well,” he says. “This is me.”

The elevator doors close and when I glance behind me, I see that Zach has disappeared. Either in the elevator, or possibly down one of the two long, wide hallways that open up on either side of the lobby.

“Does it scare you?” Jesse asks.

“Should it scare me?” I ask.

“Probably,” he says.

I smile. Unsure of who he really is. But his tone is light and when he steps out of the shadows I see he’s smiling. So I make myself take a deep breath and relax.

It’s still him. Same golden boy I spent the weekend with.

Just a little darker now. My fantasy not quite matching up with his reality, but it’s OK.

“Well,” I say when he stops just two paces away. “It’s definitely imposing.”

“Which part?” he asks.

“Um.” I laugh. “All of it?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Jesse says. “About us, actually. What I’ve told you so far is just… what I know, Emma. And I don’t know much either.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “It’s all very need-to-know. They never wanted me to know, I guess.”

“Who?” I ask.

He’s wearing a suit now. Dark gray, from what I can tell in the hazy light. Deep red tie. Hair groomed slick and a little bit of stubble on his chin that looks dark, but can’t be. Because I know for a fact that he’s blonde. So that golden-boy persona really is gone now and in its place is this… other man.

This mysterious figure with secrets so deep, he doesn’t even know them.

“Johnny. My dad. My uncle too, I guess. Though I’m not sure how much blame he’s earned, since he died back when I was twenty.”

“That day,” I say. Picturing our last day together on that very first date.

“Yeah, that day.”

He leaves the rest unsaid. The part we’re over now. The drugs and disappearing act. And we stand there in awkward silence and hazy, filtered light from the outside world.

“What is this place?”

He looks around, then back at me. “My home, I guess.”

“It’s a lobby, Jesse.”