Free Strangers in the Night by Inés Saint Page B

who dare call themselves ‘chicks’? What’s not to love?”
    Mrs. Kelly smiled excitedly. “Well, I’m suddenly in the mood for ‘Landslide,’ do you think you can play it for me?”
    Keila hesitated, looking around at the sea of stuffed shirts. “I’m not sure this is a Dixie Chicks or Stevie Nicks kind of crowd.”
    “Oh, they won’t even notice! Come here, just the two of us,” she said, leading Keila away from the crowd to two corner chairs. “How did you know I was Jake Kelly’s mother?”
    “Well...I looked your son up when I found out I was going to work for him, and I saw a few pictures of the two of you together.”
    “I do have a face you don’t soon forget,” she sighed again. “It’s my scarlet letter. My face is my warning to all women: don’t be insecure!” She seemed so earnest and so sincere that Keila found she was eager to play for her.
    Keila played a soft rendition of “Landslide”, with Mrs. Kelly singing the words under her breath. When she finished playing, she squeezed Keila’s hand again. “All worthwhile philosophy should be lyricized and put to music, don’t you agree?”
    “I do, Mrs. Kelly,” Keila smiled.
    “Call me Patty, please. Now tell me, are your parents or grandparents musical? Is this something that is inherited? Or do — ”
    They were interrupted by Tyrone, who’d brought over two plates heaping with food. “We wouldn’t want you to forget to eat while you entertain the lovely Mrs. Kelly,” he winked at Keila.
    • • •
    A while later, after the quartet finished their second set, they looked around and realized the event was basically over and it was time to gather their things and leave. They went out into the hallway, saying their goodbyes. Simone and Michelle left immediately, Ralph stayed behind to speak to someone he knew, and Keila rummaged through her purse to find her cell phone.
    “Do you need a ride home?” Jake’s deep baritone asked from behind her, and the skin on Keila’s neck prickled in response.
    “No, thank you,” she answered, without bothering to turn around.
    “Are you taking the bus or the train?” he asked. Keila slowly turned around and took her time before answering.
    The truth was that she was taking the bus, but her mother thought she had a ride. Keila hated to lie, but her mom couldn’t see well enough at night to pick her up, and she didn’t want to worry her. She decided a white-lie would do for Jake, as well. “I’m catching a ride with Ralph,” she answered, motioning in her friend’s direction, and she was about to turn and pretend to walk out with him when Ralph shot out his hand and said, “My ride’s here. Bye, Keila!” And Keila froze.
    Jake chuckled. “Come on, let me give you a ride,” he said, softly this time, and Keila felt her belly dip and roll. Her body’s reactions to him were new to her and they were delicious enough for her to be momentarily tempted to say yes just so she could continue to feel them.
    But a disturbing thought swept her mind. What if he was offering her a ride to promote the idea that they were a couple? After all, his approval ratings within the Hispanic community and the working middle class had improved since they’d been falsely linked. Was he looking to raise those numbers a little more? “No thank you, I’ll take the bus. I like the bus.”
    “You’d rather take the bus?” Jake asked in disbelief.
    “Gee Jake, you’d think that of all people, you would know that being seen in a car alone with me would only fuel rumors about us being a couple. I, for one, want to quell that rumor, it doesn’t benefit me in the least,” Keila replied.
    Jake seemed genuinely taken aback. Feeling slightly guilty, Keila turned and walked to the door. But no sooner did she grab onto the bronze handle than she heard footsteps behind her. He put his hand on the handle, too, essentially covering her own small hand with his large and, surprisingly, callused hand. He spoke into