Lost Soul (15 page)

He quickly affected the human form that had once been so appealing to the people around him at a Vegas casino years before.
 
A few alterations reduced his biceps to a less ostentatious size and shaped his hair and clothes to a more modern style.
 
With a glance in the mirror, he made his way back to the bar and found a spot where he could watch both Jessica and Maxwell from the corner of his eye.

Within moments his beloved approached him, a strained smile on her face that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
 
Michael stammered when she asked him what he wanted.
 
He didn’t know the answer.
 
What did he want from her?
 
Acknowledgement, affection, total transparency?
 
He asked for a beer instead and she gave a curt nod before hustling off.
 
She delivered another fake smile with his Michelob and Michael longed to draw her into his arms and tell her all his secrets, but instead he smiled back and let her walk away.
 
He spent the rest of the night staring at her, nursing the beer he didn’t want to drink yet longing to order another just to have one more moment of her time.

What was he thinking, appearing like this?
 
He wondered.
 
What did he hope to gain?
 
He couldn’t work up the courage to talk to her, but even if he did, what would he say?
 
She wasn’t likely to tell her life story to a complete stranger she served in a bar.

When Maxwell had finally had his fill of liquor and voyeurism, Michael resigned himself to the fact that this was all he could ask for — this one moment of contact to soothe his mind and satisfy his curiosity.
 
He left a tip he hoped was appropriate and followed Maxwell out to the bathroom.
 
He sloughed off his body in the stall and joined his charge in the faded yellow Mazda that announced Maxwell’s status as a man who used to have it all.

Maxwell drove to the nearby motel and tried to make himself comfortable in the musty, old room resplendent with eye-searing drapes, lumpy bedding and a matted shag carpet on the floor.
 
He would’ve found someplace nicer, but he knew he was too intoxicated to make the 30 minute drive to the nearest city large enough to offer better accommodations.
 
All he cared about was getting some sleep anyway.
 
He wouldn’t mind getting some tail, too, but there hadn’t been any appealing women for him to hit on at the local bar.
 
Well, except for the waitresses; they were pretty hot.
 
Maybe he should’ve stuck around till one of them got off?
 
He was pretty sure just the mention of his last name would’ve impressed one of those backwater girls enough to convince her to come back to the hotel with him.
 
Of course, she wouldn’t have been impressed by this dump.
 
He would have to encourage her to take him back to her place instead.

He didn’t know why he was even wasting time thinking about it now.
 
He was too tired to go back out tonight and he wouldn’t be here tomorrow night.
 
Unless he decided to give it another try.

His mind shifted to ruminating about the day’s sales call.
 
He knew the company he had just visited could benefit greatly from the software system he was offering, but some people had to be dragged kicking and screaming into the future.
 
Here it was 1998, just two years before the turn of the century, and yet some companies were still limping along with typewriters and Rolodexes.
 
They just didn’t realize his software could solve a lot of their problems.
 
He mulled over different ways to present the benefits until he finally drifted off.

When Maxwell woke, his mind was already going a hundred miles a minute rehearsing the new sales pitch he had devised during the night.
 
This idea was the key to his success, he just knew it, and he decided he would practice the new approach on the company he had visited yesterday.
 
They had already told him no once, so if this approach bombed at least he wouldn’t have lost anything.
 
Plus, it would give him a chance to work out the kinks before trying it out on a bigger company.
 
With a new spark in his smile, Maxwell quickly showered and dressed in a fresh suit, rehearsing his lines in the mirror as he shaved.

Michael stared in surprise at this new Maxwell.
 
He was not known for having ideas or putting forth any effort into his work.
 
Maxwell seemed to think his family’s reputation alone ought to be enough to persuade business owners to fall at his feet and beg to purchase his software.
 
The concept that a salesman actually had to try to sell his product was completely foreign to Maxwell.
 
Michael was definitely encouraged by the new outlook; it suggested the tiniest bit of maturity.

*
 
*
 
*
 
*
 
*
 
*
 
*

Several hours later, Maxwell was riding a huge high as he made his way back to the Night Out night club for a celebratory drink.
 
His new strategy had paid off and he’d just landed the account he had failed to win the day before.

Michael was a ball of nerves as they approached to bar.
 
Would Jessica be working again tonight?
 
He desperately longed to see her again, but he knew if he did it would only cause him more pain.
 
He couldn’t bear the thought of her being anything less that perfectly happy, and he could tell by the look on her face that she wasn’t.
 
More than anything he wanted to talk to her, learn all her secrets, and find out exactly what made her look so hopeless and sad.
 
Did he dare pretend to be human again in hopes of gaining a few moments of her time?

Michael’s mind was made up the moment they stepped in the bar and his eyes found Jessica.
 
She was dressed in the same ensemble as before — a tight white tank and tiny black shorts that left little to the imagination.
 
Her eyes held the same look of sadness that made Michael long to take her into his arms and comfort her.

The game playing on the large TV above the bar caught Maxwell’s attention and Michael knew Maxwell would stay, drinking and cheering on his favorite team till the final buzzer rang.
 
Without a second thought, Michael rushed to the men’s room and gave himself the same face as yesterday.
 
He sat at the same table, hoping her section hadn’t changed, and a smile lit up his face when she approached.

“Hey stranger, good to have you back,” she cooed, playing up the sex appeal.
 
It was enticing and repulsive to Michael at the same time.
 
“You want another beer?”

Michael nodded, too nervous to say anything else.
 
He longed for a moment alone with her, but had no idea how to get it.
 
She didn’t stay to chat, just sashayed off to the bar to retrieve his drink then set it down in front of him with a wink.
 
What was that supposed to mean?
 
He wondered, staring at her as she walked away.
 
Her guardian, Falla, could barely take his eyes off Michael.
 
He didn’t say a word, but it was obvious he wasn’t happy to see Michael here again.

Michael’s eyes followed her for another hour as she flitted from table to table, taking orders and bringing drinks, never letting her unhappiness crack her smile.
 
When the occupancy began to dwindle, Michael overheard the manager telling Jessica she could take off early if she wanted to.

 
He quickly drained his glass, hoping she’d pay him one last visit.
 
As she carried the tray of dirty glasses towards the kitchen, Michael caught her eye.

“You better buy more than one drink if you’re going to occupy my table all night,” she teased, balancing the tray on her hip so she could take his empty glass.

“I’m not much of a drinker,” Michael admitted with an embarrassed smile.
 
“What’s your favorite?”

Jessica was captivated by his dazzling smile and she lost herself momentarily in his eyes.
 
He looked so young and innocent on the outside, like a child playing imposter, but his eyes held a depth of sorrow that hinted at a lifetime of experience.
 
She was mesmerized by their beauty and soulfulness.
 
When he looked at her, it felt like he knew her, like he could read her mind.

She shook off the spell with a laugh and replied, “I’m a big fan of the strawberry margarita, maybe you’d like that?”

She expected him to roll his eyes or laugh her off, but instead he lowered his voice to a seductive purr and said, “I’ll try it.”

Jessica raised her eyebrows in surprise, but Michael just smiled so she shrugged and made her way back to the bar for the cocktail.
 
When she placed the fruity concoction in front of him, Michael grimaced at the syrupy sweet taste.

“That’s terrible!” he exclaimed, pushing the drink away with exaggerated distaste.
 
Jessica laughed at the way his face scrunched up around the mouthful of liquid sugar.
 
“How can anybody possibly drink that?”

“I drink them all the time,” Jessica replied.

“Well, maybe you ought to drink this one then,” he suggested, an idea suddenly popping into his mind.
 
“I’d rather have the company.”

Jessica gave him a curious look.

“The drink is yours if you’ll stay here and talk to me,” Michael offered, pulling out the seat next to him with a hopeful smile.

“Well, I’d hate for it to go to waste,” Jessica replied, glancing around to make sure all her other patrons were satisfied.
 
It was a slow night and her boss had already said she could leave early.
 
She didn’t know why, but for some reason she was drawn to this enigmatic man with the soulful eyes.

“What about you?
 
Don’t you want something else to drink?” Jessica asked.

“No, one’s about all I can handle.
 
I’m more lonely than thirsty anyway,” Michael replied, and Jessica found herself enamored by his boyish charm.

Jessica plopped down in the empty seat and took a long pull from the fruity margarita.
 
“Ahhh,” she sighed, propping her feet up on another chair and leaning back in relaxation.
 
Her body ached from hours on her feet in uncomfortable heels.
 
“So what’s your name, stranger?”

“I’m Michael,” he answered.
 
Jessica’s pause reminded him he was pretending he didn’t already know her name.
 
“What’s yours?”

“I’m Jessica,” she confirmed, but for Michael there had never been any doubt.
 
“I’ve never seen you in here before yesterday, Michael.
 
Do you live around here, or are you just passing through?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m just here on business,” Michael stammered, wishing he had thought this through.
 
But it wasn’t him he wanted to talk about.

“What about you, Jessica?
 
Is this really where you want to be?” he asked.

Jessica tilted her head in surprise as she stared into his soul-searching eyes.
 
She was expecting small talk or a cheesy pickup line, but something about Michael’s question made her think he was asking for more than just a pat answer.

“Sometimes you get stuck on a road you didn’t plan to go down,” Jessica replied, and it was Michael’s turn to be surprised, “so you just have to try to avoid the potholes and hope a detour comes along.”

“That’s the wisest thing I’ve heard in a long time, Jessica,” Michael replied with an intensity that belied his casual facade.
 
Jessica shrugged and dropped her head in embarrassment.
 
What was it about this stranger that made her want to bear her soul?

“So what path did you intend to go down, Jessica?” Michael asked.
 
The question was too personal for their recent acquaintance, but something about the way he smiled in understanding when he asked it made Jessica feel like he was someone she could tell all her secrets to.
 
She’d probably never see him again, so what was the harm?

“I wanted to be a social worker.
 
I wanted to help people solve their problems, but I found out I wasn’t that great at solving my own, so I guess that wasn’t meant to be,” Jessica explained and Michael remembered all the times she had tried to comfort Colby when he was an infant.
 
Her presence was all it ever took to make him happy.

“Sometimes what people need is just someone to listen and be there for them,” Michael replied, then tried to follow his own advice.
 
“What’s stopping you from pursuing your dream?”

“Well, I’d have to go back to school.
 
I didn’t finish college.”

“Seems like the hours you work here would be pretty conducive to that.”

“Yeah, I guess so.
 
I don’t know…,”Jessica wavered.
 
Michael desperately wanted to know what she was thinking at that moment, but all he could do was try to keep her talking.
 
He leaned forward and gazed earnestly into her eyes, hoping to encourage her to continue, but Jessica shook her head and gave a shrug instead.