The Writer's Heart

5

JESSIE'S HEART raced, as Marilyn drove. Traffic was a bit busy, and they sat in silence. When they stopped in front of a red light, Marilyn looked at Jessie with a bit of admiration. She'd googled Jessie, and was surprised at what the woman had accomplished—the awards that she'd won, the lives that she'd changed.

It was surprising that no one in the office had recognized her, but that was probably because they were all too busy with their own lives. Jessie was a lesbian icon. She'd done outreach programmes, travelled the world to visit orphanages, and poverty stricken countries. She'd even established a foundation for neglected LGBT+ youths. Her work was amazing, and sadly, too underappreciated.

"You've surprised me, Jess."

Jessie was surprised by the nickname. Marilyn had always offered a serious tone whenever they spoke, that she was caught off guard for a moment, "googled me, did you?"

Marilyn looked up at the traffic light. She'd never thought that her personal assistant would be a woman of such substance—not ever, "I did. You didn't tell me that you're the founder of The Rainbow Foundation."

Jessie shifted in her seat, "did I forget to mention that on my résumé?"

Marilyn shook her head in amusement. Jessie Nightingale was full of surprises, "actually, you did. Why?"

Jessie shrugged, "would've made you too suspicious."

Marilyn nodded, "I was already impressed with your degree in Creative Writing."

Jessie inhaled a breath. As she stared through the window of the passenger's side seat, she felt uneasy, "your wife's a big fan of my writing. She'll be the first to receive a copy of my next release, if I'm ever able to finish it."

"It's that bad?" Marilyn asked.

The light changed, and Marilyn moved her foot onto the accelerator, "worse actually. I haven't written anything ever since I came back from Venezuela."

Marilyn focused her eyes on the road, which gave her a few minutes to get her thoughts in order. Jessie sat defeated in her seat. She didn't know where Marilyn was taking her, but hopefully, it was somewhere that had food, "and when was that?"

Jessie closed her eyes, "two years ago," Jessie tensed.

"So, is your next book going to be about a personal assistant?" Marilyn could sense the unease in the car. She rolled down the window of the driver's side to allow natural ventilation into the vehicle.

"Workplace politics, actually."

"Oh," Marilyn made a turn into a parking lot. She found a vacant space, and turned off the engine.

"What have you found out then?"

Jessie sighed, "I didn't get to—"

"Cut the bullshit, of course you did."

Jessie clutched her purse against her chest. She'd been too distracted to really do what she'd initially taken the job for. She actually enjoyed being Marilyn's assistant, as strange as it sounds. Jessie shrugged and unbuckled her seatbelt. She stepped out of the car, and as the wind hit her face, her hair scattered in the air. She closed her eyes and smiled. The soothing effects of the wind was always the perfect remedy for her distress.

Marilyn secured the car's locks, and led Jessie towards a building by the Marina. Jessie read the sign on the building, and realized that it was a little pub. A pub by the sea? That seemed like a good idea to instill into her book, "welcome to Lucky's Bar. How may I help you?" A bubbly waitress led them to seats by the bar, and took their drink orders. Jessie rested her purse onto the bar's counter, and leaned back in her seat.