The Cali Alphas

2:42 A.M.

Jenson shifted on the bed to take a look at the woman beside him. She was so quiet. It struck him as odd that she stayed in bed with him all night. While his thoughts raced, he patiently waited.

She seemed relaxed now; her lean shoulders had stopped trembling.

Was she done crying? Probably. The thought momentarily relieved him of some guilt. He moved closer and looped his arm around her small waist.

She flinched, but then she pulled the covers over them. Her porcelain-smooth skin felt a bit warm, but he sensed she was still feeling cold, so he drew her nearer.

He had to dare himself to talk to her again, considering the hot mess that just happened. Desperate to hear her voice again, he left a light kiss on her shoulder to try to wheedle her into a conversation.

She ignored him. For a minute or two, he just watched her stare at something on the wall. She must be trying to forget or rationalize what just happened.

The disappointment turned into immediate regret. Jenson sighed to himself. Although intoxicated, he was fully aware of what he just did to her.

If someone had filmed it the whole time, he would know exactly when one part led to the other, and how he had drunkenly but deliberately coaxed her into it. To begin with, he wasn’t even that drunk last night to use it as an excuse. Even now he could easily narrate how everything happened.

He didn’t expect it to go this far. Neither did she expect any of it—at least that much he knew.

The complete silence in the room dragged on for another minute. Her back was to him, while her damp hair remained slightly tousled. Jessi kept so still he thought she had dozed off. In the dark, her skin looked as flawless and soft as the pillows, and he almost cussed out loud for wanting to make love to her again.

He would probably kill himself in the morning. If he woke up from this mess, that is.

Problem was he didn't feel like this was a mess.

Not at all. Not one bit.

Maybe it was the decade-old whiskey, and then the best ice-cold beer he’d had afterward. Alcohol. Yep. Sure. Pretty good excuse.

However, at the moment, with Jessi just inches away from him and with the way her hair smelled, the painful memories lingered in his mind. He couldn’t help but recall the many times she avoided him in the past weeks. He hadn’t hung out with her in a while, and it felt like torture. Pure, harsh, mental, and emotional torture.

But now that he’d finally had the chance to spend time with her again, he could only think of how natural it felt to be in this bed with her.

It was so wrong—but, right now, everything just seemed...dreamlike. It just felt right.

To him, at least. He felt like this had to happen. Or else they wouldn’t have known they could break the wall. The fucking wall. The barrier seemed to be too stiff, always kept him at a safe, neutral distance for as long as he could remember.

Her gentle touch brought him back to the present almost immediately.

Jenson sat up quickly, realizing she had removed his arm around her. He watched as Jessi moved closer to the edge of the bed. Then he heard her heave a sigh.

Still nude, Jenson scowled and got out of bed to find something thick to cover both of them up.

Bathroom. Right. Towel. Robe.

He inspected the cabinet beside the sink. In seconds, he grabbed two robes, both clean and thick. He was about to step back inside the bedroom when he felt like he needed a splash of freezing cold water to snap himself out of it. He couldn’t show her he was having a hard time dealing with it all. He had to keep up the cool and calm façade.

He washed his face, uttered a quick prayer under his breath, and then stared at himself in the mirror. He stayed rooted there for a moment.

Why couldn’t he come up with a good reason? If she asked, he wouldn’t be able to explain why he still didn’t want to leave and end the night with a sorry speech. Jenson splashed cold water all over his face again. It wasn’t long before he ended up staring at the ring on his finger.

He pursed his lips and straightened. Jenson swore to himself, failing to justify why he wanted to get that drunk in the first place. He never drank that much. Never was a heavy drinker. Maybe he was just that worn out. Stressed beyond words.

That last fight he had with Charmaine had been replaying in his mind all month long. He was never the one who started arguments. Lately, he felt like she was blaming his job for everything. That it was the reason they couldn’t completely settle down, buy a bigger house, start a family, and all that. She didn’t want to have kids anytime soon, but maybe he could change her mind one of these days.

Except, now he felt it was entirely his fault they’d kept butting heads. If not arguing, they’d be ignoring each other for days. Their last breakup was when she went away for three months on vacation with her sister in London while he worked his ass off all around Canada, traveling from city to city and just feeling done with every single day.

Who helped him feel better and stick it out during those times?

Of course, not her. It was his cronies at work, his assistants slash caretakers slash occasional shrinks. Especially the nice, caring, unbelievably beautiful human being in the next room, perfect and hardworking, naked, and most likely regretful.

Jessi had been nothing but comfort to him in times of need. Jessi had been the most dependable assistant he could ever ask for.

Jenson took a deep breath. The robe warmed him up while the other hung over his shoulder. He stepped outside and was surprised to see her up and awake, slipping into a shirt too big for her petite but fairly curvy figure. Her hair covered most of her face. It only made him stare at her pale, smooth legs, and dainty feet.

He didn’t want to leave yet although he had a feeling she just wanted to shove him out the door. It was almost dawn. He studied the almost blank expression on her angelic face, and all he could see was uncertainty and regret he knew he’d hate to bear in mind.

The next minute, Jessi was already standing next to her closet, busy looking for something. He took a few steps closer to the bed. Then she finally spoke to him. “You can dry your clothes in the laundry. Backdoor in the kitchen.”

Before he could say anything in response, she was already approaching him with a folded black shirt that nearly covered her entire forearm.

“It’s big enough,” she mumbled without sparing him a glance.

While he toned down his wary stare, he took the clean shirt from her clasp. Then he just watched Jessi hurry into the bathroom.

Dammit. She was avoiding him again. Why shouldn’t she? He put her in deep trouble. It was completely his fault this happened. Huge problem, huge consequences.

The restlessness just worsened the tension in his muscles. Jenson followed her hasty steps towards the bathroom. He needed to talk it out. If she wanted him to leave now, he needed to talk to her first.

Well, they could save the lengthy discussion for another day... some other time where alcohol wasn’t an issue. But they should at least try to acknowledge what happened. At least try to act like adults about the whole thing.

Holy shit. He’d completely ruined his life. And hers.

He’s going to burn in the fiery depths of hell. For real. The devil was waiting for his rotten soul.

Jessi, to his surprise, didn’t shut or lock the bathroom door. It was half-open, so he stepped in. He caught her slouching by the sink, her stare almost glassy as she gazed at her reflection. Before he could come near her again, she ignored his attentive eyes and started brushing her teeth.

Silence. A long, tense silence. He put up with it, no matter how much he wanted to break it off and settle everything with her. Jenson stayed put beside the door and could only watch. He couldn’t stop imagining how awkwardly noiseless the room would’ve been if the faucet weren’t running right now.

For minutes, he stood still behind her. They played the quiet game again. Jessi kept ignoring his presence and quietly ran a bath. She probably felt like she had to scrub herself clean of him.

“Want me to go?”

Jessi turned to face him. “You wanna go?” she muttered with a frown, then turned her back to him again. "Storm's here."

"Just if you want me to."

She didn't reply.

Great. Now she definitely wanted him gone. Maybe dead, too—which was understandable, considering what he just did to her after everything she did for him.

“Get some sleep. There’s Advil by the bed.” Jessi pointed to the nightstand before he could open his mouth.

Shit. Maybe she didn’t want him to leave just yet. At the possibility, some part of him rejoiced and hung onto a flicker of hope. But the sensible part promptly reasoned that it was probably just the storm forcing her to put up with him, keeping her from kicking him out the door.

Typical. Why was he even surprised?

It was Jessiah.

Jessi, the makeup girl. And sometimes, everyone’s makeup girl.

Jessi, his assistant. Jessi, his coffeemaker. Jessi, his personal shopper.

Jessi, his errand runner, sometimes driver, and stress reliever...

Jessi, his everything.

$1,208.75

No more, no less.

Those were the numbers her bank account displayed on her phone screen all day long. It was her only bank account, too. So, it was the only savings account she had been maintaining for about ten years now.

Jessiah stared at her phone’s screen and tried not to frown.

She had been waiting for the figures to change all week. Frankly, she was praying every day and every night for some money to come in after that two-day modeling stint she just finished and worked for last week. 

It wasn't easy at all. The traveling expenses, the make-up, the time and effort... Being a struggling, working model and part-time make-up artist from a small town involved a lot more than just showing up and looking pretty.

It wasn't all glitz and glamour most of the time. That much she knew now. Since graduating from college, she had been trying her best to break into the make-up industry and in the modeling scene after her first corporate job didn't do much to jumpstart her career.

It didn't jumpstart anything, per se. What it only did was put her in close proximity day after day with an inappropriate, self-absorbed misogynist who thought he was God's precious gift to all of womankind. 

The jerk didn't even pay her enough for her five months of enduring that crappy job as his full-time executive assistant (a.k.a. personal maid and office secretary). But she would rather find another path to traverse than have to interact with him again in the same room, so she forgot about filing a sexual harassment lawsuit and just moved on with her life.

Jessi sighed at the memory. It had been almost two years since that happened. She should have forgotten the unfortunate experience by now. It didn't get that serious, anyway. She didn't even tell anyone about it. Not even her parents or her best friend. She figured sweeping it under the rug would help her forget the asshole and help her move on from it easier.

Sometimes it felt like she was well past it, but, some days or nights, her brain still recalled memories she would rather not dwell on at this point of her life. She was well into adulthood by now. At 24, she should be busy enough and too preoccupied to be brooding about the past.

But keeping that kind of secret took a toll on her emotions sometimes... no matter how often she tried convincing herself that it didn't matter now because she was so done working for the spawn of evil she used to call her boss.

In fact, she had moved to another city. She was now meeting new people—much nicer people— and living her life free from the mentally traumatic shackles of that small, boring, gray-walled office she used to call her workplace for half a year. Funny how temp jobs could make or break someone's career that way.

But that was the past. And since that day she shoved her signed resignation letter onto the jerk's desk, she had promised herself to only look forward since that day and forget about the awful things she used to endure day in day out. "Used to" being the operative word. Or words.

Whatever. What's most important was she learned a valuable lesson after what happened, and she had a good reason to start over and figure out what she really wanted to do in her life.

Follow her dreams. Aspire for something bigger...

All that motivational crap. Well, for now, it felt like all of that was pure bullshit. Because her life wasn't quite where she wanted to be at this point and having been let go from a mall job just two months ago, it just felt like her life wasn't going in the right direction.

She had tried praying, eating better, going vegan, working out more, moving to a better neighborhood, doing online self-promotion, but... none of it seemed to work.

For now, what was keeping her from being completely bankrupt was her meager earnings from doing part-time makeup gigs through word of mouth and some print modeling on the side.

God knows she wasn't the poster child for runway work. She just wasn't blessed with the right genes for that kind of modeling, is all. Jessi threw her phone onto the pillow and gave up. No way would the numbers change. It was a favor for a friend, after all.

Well, the girl promised her a cut if ever a significant amount of the photos were bought by her patrons online. Sadly, no one cared enough to purchase more than two copies, her friend said.

Jessi let out a sigh and rubbed the grogginess off her eyes. The only good thing about her life now was that she was no longer living off her parents' working-class salaries, and she had enough money to last her another month. Until she found a steady, well-paying job.

Did she want to move back home? Of course. Her parents would love for her to just go back to Rosenville. They preferred the small-town life. But Jessi didn't. Ever since graduating from high school, she had always dreamt of getting into a good college, landing a good job, and exploring the rest of the world.

Unfortunately, getting a college degree didn't mean a high-paying job and a blooming career that would enable her to reach her goals before she turned ripe at 25. The world just didn't work that way.

Unless she'd win the lottery or something...

Heh. She was never the type to believe in that stuff, anyway. She had been raised in a religious family. Therefore, believing in plain luck to be successful in life wasn't really encouraged in their household.

Maybe someday...

Maybe next week, next month, next year.

Maybe then she'd get her big break. Start a real job that would help her pay all of her bills without fearing she would run out of money for her food any day now. Hopefully, the tables would turn soon for her.

Hopefully, adulthood would cut her some slack and lead her straight into the job of her dreams. Maybe soon.

Maybe. All maybes for now... but, of course, she had to stay optimistic. Jessi got up from the bed and uttered a short prayer. 

No time to be negative. For now, she'd just keep trying and trying. No time for drama. She was running out of money and patience, but there was no time to be depressed. She just had to push through.

x Two hours later x

"Good afternoon. Yes. This is Jessiah Kinley speaking."

"Hi, Jessiah. This is Daniella from Steinway Productions, calling from the HR office. I came across your signed application letter earlier this week. Are you still interested in working here in LA?"

Oh. Dear. Lord. Steinway. LA. L freakin' A. 

The woman just invited her to come for an interview and fly to Los Angeles. Wow. Prayers indeed worked. Jessi took in a deep breath and tried not to jump all over the bed, but her blood pressure might have spiked up from the very first second she'd heard "Steinway Productions."

It was one of the biggest production companies in Hollywood at the moment, and she knew so ever since she heard of it after taking up that 30-day cosmetology training course back when she was working at the mall for a famous cosmetics brand. And someone from Steinway wanted to interview her for a job?

Hallelujah. "Hi, Daniella. Yes. To confirm, I have applied a few months ago," Jessi replied with a smile while her heartbeat escalated into a faster pace that almost made her stomach turn into knots. "And yes. Definitely. I'm very much interested in working for your company. Thanks for giving me a call to let me know you... took an interest in my application."

"Oh, okay. Great! Really good to hear," Daniella replied over the phone with more enthusiasm now. Her voice sounded like she was barely 18, but maybe her voice was just naturally high-pitched. "After checking with my immediate supervisor, I was told to call you in for an interview here in our LA offices. Does Friday work for you?"

"Yes. Sure," Jessi responded over the phone without thinking twice. Actually, she didn't know if she had enough money for airfare but... whatever. She would borrow money from her parents if need be. This was the answer to her prayers. A brand new job, and in LA, at that!

"Great. Okay, so, this Friday morning... I could squeeze you into my ten o'clock. Since that's the only time my boss is free for interviews that day. That sound good?" Daniella asked.

Yes. Thank God. As soon as next week, she would no longer be in the unemployment line and no longer pretending that being a freelance make-up artist slash part-time model would be enough to push her towards her financial and career goals this year.

"Yes. Ten will work." Jessi couldn't help but smile to herself again. The excitement just took her breath away, and the new opportunity even brought her relief from all the anxiety she had been feeling lately. "I just have to book a flight by today, and I'll be there at your office Friday morning." No matter how expensive that would be, she wanted to add.

"Sounds great. I will forward you our complete address and contact details, as well as a quick online test for you to complete within the hour. If you need further instructions, just give me a call, or message me. That sound good to you?"

"Yes. I'll wait. Thank you."

"Alrighty. Real nice talking to you today, Jessi. See you soon."