Groupie/Rock Star Bundle (4 page)

It had only been a few months but things were
seriously starting to happen professionally for Dreaming in Blue.
Jasper signed the group that night in Philly when I had left early,
and they returned to a frantic schedule that included recording,
rehearsing and publicity. They got better gigs, this time as
opening acts for more well-known headliners. There would be parties
and interviews, and I used my vacation time to tag along with Iris
and the gang to broaden my entertainment portfolio.

I managed to sell the travel piece
on the club where I had seen the band initially in Philadelphia,
and it helped give the band a bit of a bump in regional travel
magazines where my article had been featured. Iris used some of my
comments in the press kits, and Jasper commissioned my services for
some promotional articles he could submit to entertainment
magazines. In effect this was a working vacation, but it was
finally doing what I wanted to do so I had been chomping at the bit
to hit the ground running.

Plus I would get to see Vanni again, and just
thinking about it made my heart skip a beat. Two weeks after I
published my article I received a bouquet of flowers that were
signed, “Till next time. V.” There were emails and text messages
that grew more random as the band’s schedule filled, but started
again in earnest with a special call on my birthday at the end of
October.

He was funny, he was sweet. Though he was a
huge flirt he was also kind and romantic. He’d venture into sexual
innuendo but willing to walk right back out again when I’d change
the subject. He was smart enough to talk on most any subject, so
even though there was an undercurrent of sexual interest there was
also a foundation of friendship.

At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
But there were just as many nights after a phone call I needed a
long, cold shower to get to sleep.

By December I knew it wasn’t a matter of if I
would sleep with him, it was when.

And his twenty-ninth birthday seemed like the
perfect occasion. He had dropped hints beforehand as to what kind
of gift I could give him, and what kind of gift he wanted. I gave
as good as I got, teasing him with no real commitment as to where
our relationship would go from there.

Alana’s words rang as true in my
ears as Iris’s warning when she called just a week prior to iron
out the details of the trip. I casually mentioned I had decided to
book a hotel room as opposed to stay with her, and my lovely friend
quickly read between the lines. She reiterated Alana’s warning
about the rocker limitations. Vanni was a nice distraction, but
totally not boyfriend material.

I laughed it off, and assured her that I had no
interest in becoming another notch on Vanni’s belt. But this time
my suitcase held six pieces of clothing instead of just five. The
present I had planned for Vanni would be wrapped in satin and lace
of his favorite color – blue, of course – and it would be something
I’d encourage him to take his time unwrapping.

Who was looking for a boyfriend? Sleeping with
Vanni, especially on the verge of his successful career, would
simply be an interesting story someday.

I wasn’t falling for the man. That was
impossible. I barely knew him. But I knew he wanted me, and I
wanted him, and there were few other reasons required to explore
that kind of attraction in modern America. I renewed my birth
control and bought some condoms – a must for any sexually active
adult – and figured I was a big enough girl to take whatever else
that followed.

But as each day raced toward the trip my
daydreams became even more complex and involved. I indulged
fantasies in just about any kind of romantic scenario that would
surely make this week the week of my life.

No pressure.

The scent of flowers hit me immediately when I
opened the door of my hotel room, which overlooked Central Park.
The huge floral display sitting on the desk took me off guard, but
immediately warmed my heart. I became giddy… breathless. It hit me
that soon I would finally be in his arms after months of thinking
and fantasizing about it. I ripped the message out of the tiny
envelope, hungry to hear that he was as excited about this prospect
as I was.

My balloon promptly deflated when I
read the message and realized the large flower bouquet was from
Jasper and not Vanni at all.

It was a small price to pay for my services,
but he was definitely greasing the wheels for my semi-volunteer
status for his new pet band. Iris had already warned me that I’d be
the an industry darling as long as I was willing to work for free,
but that my services would only be valued on the price I was
willing to put on them.

With a sigh I put the card back in the
envelope. I checked my phone for the hundredth time but no one
texted me upon my arrival. This was odd for someone like Iris, but
probably more commonplace for someone like Vanni. I chalked it up
to their being busy and decided to freshen up before I headed out
into the city for some lunch.

I made tracks straight for Central Park, my
favorite place to prowl in New York City. With my satchel slung
over my shoulder and a hot dog full of grilled onions and
sauerkraut in my hand, I disappeared into the country oasis in the
midst of the towering skyscrapers. I didn’t care that it was about
to snow, I was revitalized by the energy of the city. I needed to
keep moving or I’d probably burst in two.

I switched on my MP3 player, which
just so happened to be cued to the new demo material recorded by
Dreaming in Blue. Just the sound of Vanni’s voice made me smile. I
had become a pretty big fan over the last several months, having
that voice sing naughty words into my ear was apparently enough to
win my favor. My favorite, for obvious reasons, was a tune called
“Wanting Her,” a sensual ballad with a primal rock beat that told
the story of needing to have someone you just met. I usually
listened to that one twice when I listened to all the rest. It was
playing for the third time as I wound my way through the park,
stopping briefly to pay my respects to John Lennon at Strawberry
Fields.

After whiling away a couple of hours I headed
back to my hotel room, just in time to receive a text from Iris.
“Sending a car. Be ready at three. Dress like you’re getting paid
for it. Xoxo Iris.”

Even without a winky face emoticon I knew she
wasn’t being catty or bitchy. She knew how to navigate this town
and I was still learning. The good news is I had more than two
decades of experience dressing myself. That probably didn’t help
Iris feel any better as she no doubt had a minor breakdown that she
couldn’t orchestrate a major makeover on me prior to my meeting
Jasper Carrington at his Manhattan office.

I took a page from the French and
dressed in layers, most of which were black, with a scarf and hat
complimenting the outfit. I looked edgy and hip, which I figured
fit the bill of what Jasper wanted me to do for the band. I was
barely nervous at all when the car picked me up in front of the
hotel, and remarkably had several fingernails left by the time we
reached the tall office building for Carrington
Entertainment.

I rode wordlessly up in the elevator
and strode across the reception area right to Jasper’s office suite
as if I were paid large amounts of money to do so. He wasn’t in his
office when I arrived, a power play no doubt, and I was instructed
to wait in the sparsely decorated but rich interior of his office
suite.

I knew if I sat still I’d probably just
dissolve into useless human goo so I paced around the large office,
which had views of the city facing out from every wall. There were
gold albums, platinum albums, signed instruments and awards (so
that was how heavy a Grammy was, I had always wondered,) all of
which were scattered across the walls and on bookshelves. There
were also a lot of photos of Athena, Jasper’s wife, a rising star
so bright she only needed the one name.

The door open and Jasper walked in. He had ice
blue eyes and a bright silver mane, the signs of distinguished
sophistication that had come at a young age for this record mogul.
I knew because I had researched him the minute I got home from the
Philly trip. He was only 49 but looked 69, which helped him exude a
powerful edge that no doubt allowed him to wheel and deal and make
superstars out of nobodies.

Maybe that would benefit me somehow. One could
only hope.

“Miss Foster,” he greeted with a smooth smile.
“So nice to finally meet you.”

I reached out a hand. “The feeling is
mutual.”

He gestured to a chair. “Please.
Sit.”

I sat.

He walked around his huge desk and sat in the
oversized chair opposite me. “I’m so glad you could come to New
York. You come highly recommended.”

I nodded with a smile. Iris knew how to sell
people, even someone with thread bare credentials like me. “Thank
you for this opportunity, sir.”

He waved his hand. “Please. Call me Jasper.” He
leaned back in his chair and linked his fingers together. “Is Andy
short for Andrea?”

I shook my head. “Nope. It’s just Andy. I think
I was supposed to have been a boy and just surprised my parents on
arrival.”

“I like it. There’s a certain ambiguity about
it that works to our advantage. You look like a groupie, but
publish like a man. It’s the perfect disguise.”

I didn’t know what to say. Somehow I
felt I should be offended, but it wasn’t as though I didn’t use my
masculine name to my own favor when it suited me.

I think it was the groupie part that bothered
me more.

“This works especially well with
gossip,” he continued.

“I’m not sure I want to write a gossip column,”
I interjected but he just smiled.

“It’s part of publicity. You know what they say
– there’s no such thing as bad press as long as they’re still
talking about you.”

I supposed he had a point, but I was
curious as to where he was going with this.

He didn’t make me wait long. He slid a folder
across the desk. “As you know the band already signed the contract,
and they are now working on their album. Right now I want to get
buzz out there, and the best way to do that is with
sex.”

“Sex sells,” I murmured in agreement
as I opened the folder. The pictures inside immediately made my
stomach drop. It was photo after photo, press clipping after press
clipping, of Vanni with a beautiful, lithe brunette who looked like
a South American supermodel.

This, of course, was exactly what
she was.

“That’s Lourdes Roemer. Lingerie model.
According to the press she and Vanni are really hot and heavy right
now. I’d like for you to do an interview with both of them while
you’re in town. Get something to me by the end of the week so we
can have something in print by the new year.”

My eyes met his. I gulped down any distaste at
the assignment with a forced, “Of course,” through my tightening
throat. I already had plenty of questions lined up, like how long
had they been hot and heavy? Was it before or after he flirted with
me and made big plans on how I would help him celebrate his
birthday?

Jasper wasn’t done. He handed me the band’s
itinerary, which was packed full for the next seven days, including
Vanni’s birthday just days before Christmas. “We’re really going
balls to the wall so you’ll have to fit interviews with the band
wherever you can in that schedule. I’ve given you press credentials
to get you into all the venues, even the performances. It’s all in
here.”

He handed me a packed manila folder. “So that
should be enough to get you started. Set up an appointment at the
end of the week so I can see what you have, and we’ll go from
there.”

He gave me a dismissive smile as he rested both
forearms on his desk, and I rose to my feet with my hands full of
goodies I suddenly didn’t even know if I wanted. “Thank you, Mr. –
Jasper,” I eked out before I practically ran out of his
office.

I have to be honest; I so saw that
whole thing going another way.

I was quiet on the way back to the hotel, where
I planned to submerse myself into a bubble bath and order room
service and let this new information gestate for the rest of the
night.

Vanni had a girlfriend, a little detail he had
forgotten to mention to me.

This was supposed to be a whirlwind week of sex
and romance, and now it turned out that was true for everyone
except the person out $3000 to make the damn trip in the first
place.

The longer I thought about it the more steamed
I got. Boy, did he have some nerve! Was he romancing me just to get
some free press? Or was it funny to watch the little groupie get
her hopes up only to laugh about it later with his superstar model
girlfriend?

My phone buzzed and I saw it was Vanni finally
checking in. It was all I could do not to chuck the phone out the
window. I silenced it and didn’t give him another (kind) thought
all the way back to the hotel.

As much as I wanted to avoid doing
so I inhaled that manila folder with all the press clippings of
Vanni and Lourdes within the first 30 minutes I was back in my
room. Each word stabbed me in the gut. They met at Jasper’s and
Athena’s Labor Day extravaganza and had been inseparable ever
since. Movie premieres, art shows, even the Christmas tree being
lit at Rockefeller Center – all of these events had proven prime
publicity opportunities for the new (gorgeous) couple.