Groupie/Rock Star Bundle (5 page)

In fact they were so stunning side by side it
was hard to look directly at the photo. He looked so far different
from the man who had gyrated against me in a near-drunken haze at a
nondescript Philadelphia bar.

What kinds of dirty thoughts might he be
whispering in Lourdes’s ear? Or more importantly, what kinds of
things would she be whispering back?

I threw the folder back down onto the table in
disgust. Did I really harbor some romantic notion that he and I
would have had a hot, steamy week amidst all the glamor and glitz
of the rock and roll life?

I couldn’t believe what a twit I’d
been. I was half-tempted to check out of the hotel, go back to the
airport and return on an earlier flight. But I couldn’t do that to
Iris, especially since she had warned me ahead of time what kind of
man Vanni truly was. I had just preferred not to listen, all the
while denying what I had really wanted to come to New York to
do.

Getting my foot in the door was only
part of the reason I booked the flight nearly two weeks after
Philadelphia.

I wanted Giovanni, in large part due to the
fact he wanted me too. It made me feel special, wanted, sexy,
desirable.

All those feelings dissipated the moment I saw
Lourdes in Vanni’s arms, his large hands encircling her teeny waist
as he smiled big for every camera.

He really had hit the big time.

My phone buzzed again but this time I didn’t
even check to see who it was. I left it vibrating on the table
while I went to find sanctuary and self-satisfaction in the
whirlpool tub.

I was roused the next morning by
incessant knocking on my hotel door. I trudged to the door, peaked
through the peep hole and then opened the door to a near-frantic
Iris.

“Where have you been?”

“Asleep,” I informed her as I wiped my eyes.
“And I’d like to return to it, if you don’t mind.”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she said as she
burst through the door like a force of nature. We have a busy
schedule today. Rehearsals. Radio. Jasper’s party tonight. You got
the itinerary, didn’t you?”

I nodded but couldn’t muster even a tenth of
her enthusiasm. She was all over it. “So what’s wrong? Why aren’t
you ready?”

I hesitated. It would be hard to explain. The
entertainment industry didn’t stop for bruised egos; if it did
nothing would ever get done. “Jet lag?” I offered.

She crossed her arms and pursed her lips.
“C’mon, Andy. What’s up? You were so excited the last time I talked
to you. This is your big break.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Yes, indeed.
A huge break to work essentially for free and have my newfound
romantic dreams crushed underfoot in the process. But as soon as
the sigh escaped my lips I immediately regretted it. It wasn’t fair
to Iris to flake out now, especially after all she did for me to
help me with something I said I wanted.

All the Vanni stuff was just a fantasy, one
that I hadn’t even shared with her, so it was pointless to sit in
my hotel and pout over something that was so clearly a
non-issue.

“I’m sorry, Iris. I really didn’t feel well
last night and went straight to bed.”

Iris switched into caregiver mode and ran over
to me, cupping her hand against my forehead. “You’re not getting
sick, are you?”

I shook my head. “Migraine mostly.”
It was a cheap excuse but generally effective given my propensity
for crippling headaches. Plus it wasn’t really technically a lie
considering I gave myself a headache the night before as I tried to
piece together Vanni’s new romance.

It was especially tough not sharing that with
her. As one of my dearest friends she usually heard about anything
that happened in my nearly non-existent love life anyway. She was
the one who put things in perspective, and now I felt as though I
had to hide things from her. With Vanni the rules had suddenly,
though subtly, changed.

“You’re in the fast lane now, sweetie. No one
has time for migraines. Take an aspirin and let’s get
going.”

Within about twenty minutes Iris got me
showered, dressed, groomed and out the door. It was a good thing I
wasn’t one to spend a half an hour in front of a mirror getting my
makeup just so, or else we’d have been screwed.

Instead I applied my eyeliner, powdered my face
and obscured myself behind heavy, black-framed glasses and followed
Iris as she hailed a cab.

I wanted to ask her if Vanni had
asked about me but I knew that was pointless. Why would he ask her
about me? No one knew that he had invited me to come and made
exciting innuendo of what would happen if I did. Instead he was
publicly dating a South American Amazon. We were so far apart on
the female spectrum it was like comparing apples to oboes. How
could I compete with that? I’m not the kind of girl who would ever
try.

“So I hear that Vanni is dating,” I
mentioned as casually as possible.

Iris gave me a knowing smile. “You know our
Vanni. So many women. So little time.”

Indeed.

Her noncommittal answer didn’t help
my mood much. I was left to fill in the blanks and they were all
bad. The closer we got to the studio the more my stomach tied
itself into a knot. I wanted to see him as much as I wanted to run
away. I had indulged a hot and heavy fantasy or two about those
hands… that mouth… that hard body pressed against mine. I shivered
just thinking about it. To see it all again in one sexy package and
know it was now out of my reach was a KO punch to the old
ego.

The only upside was maybe during rehearsal he’d
have a shirt on.

I trotted to keep up with Iris once the cab
dropped us off at our destination. She flashed her badge and had an
easy smile for each and every person that stood between us and the
band. Though I had credentials clutched in my sweaty palm I didn’t
need to identify myself. Apparently being with Iris was good
enough.

Just like high school.

She led me down a dark hallway and
finally we entered a room behind a huge glass window. Engineers sat
working a soundboard with all the knobs and buttons and switches
that were as alien to me as a space ship dashboard. The band
performed on the other side of the window, something heavy, raw and
familiar. It was my favorite song from the demo tracks he had sent
me.

He had a shirt on, but he was still just as
dangerously sexy with the long, wild hair and snug jeans. He had
his eyes closed as he sang, so I allowed myself a moment just to
soak him in. It was a painful moment – like looking at the last
slice of cheesecake on someone else’s plate.

When he opened his eyes he caught sight of me
where I stood just behind Iris. He smiled wide and if I didn’t know
better he looked extremely happy to see me.

I tried my best not to let it go to my head,
but I couldn’t help but give him a big smile in return. It was
almost as if I had forgotten, at least momentarily, that he lied to
me about having a girlfriend.

Like he owed me anything.

The band took a break after the song
and Vanni quickly made his way into the sound booth to give me a
big hug that lifted me right off my feet. “Hey you,” he whispered
in my ear.

I didn’t say anything as I pulled away, and
before I knew it I was whisked into Iain’s arms for a friendly,
brotherly hug and big kiss on the cheek. Yael and Felix were a
little more reserved, speaking mostly to the engineer.

Vanni turned to me. “You didn’t answer my
calls. I thought maybe you didn’t make it to town.”

“I made it,” I stated unnecessarily. “I was
just busy. I had to meet with Jasper yesterday.”

He nodded as if he accepted the excuse, but
didn’t totally buy it.

“She had a migraine,” Iris filled in. “She gets
monster headaches periodically.”

“Aw,” he said as he put his arm around me. “If
I had known that I would have come over and given you a
massage.”

Iris giggled and then turned back to
the other members of the band.

Vanni bent closer. “You know, I have the
perfect cure for a headache.”

My eyebrow rose. “What’s that? A
girlfriend?”

My words hit him like I had hoped, but he
didn’t look half as contrite as I wanted him to. He just grinned at
me and pulled me into another hug. “Don’t believe everything you
hear,” he whispered near my ear, with hot breath that nearly had me
buckle at the knees.

What was he saying?

He released me and went back to
complete another track. It was his ode to sex, and memories of his
first time with an older woman who took him in hand and showed him
the ropes. I had only heard the song before, seeing it was an
entirely new experience altogether. The way he moved his body, the
come hither expression on his face, all of it was designed for the
maximum effect: total sexual annihilation. Somewhere Jim Morrison
would be so proud.

I shifted in my seat whenever he stole a glance
in my direction. The hooded look in his eyes reminded me all too
well of how his mouth felt against my skin or his arms felt
circling my body. I kept hearing him say, “Don’t believe everything
you hear,” with such sincerity it resurrected my lascivious dreams
for the week.

It suddenly became a top priority to hear his
part of the interview, if only our afternoon would allow time for
it.

One more song and we were off, heading toward a
radio station in a company car. Vanni poured champagne for Iris and
I, who shared the ride. Apparently the band had decided that he
would be their representative for media interviews initially, and
everyone else opted to stay behind at the studio.

I almost wished that Iris had felt
the same, but this was her baby. She ran his PR campaign like a
well-oiled machine, which required micromanaging like only Iris
could provide.

Instead I had to settle for the feeling of his
arm along the back of the seat, where I sat wedged between them. I
tried not to think about how the line of his body was flush against
mine, or the deep look he’d send my way periodically with that
smirk that indicated a juicy secret just between the two of
us.

I tried also not to think about the heat of his
body or the smell of his skin. Instead I threw back two glasses of
champagne just to give my mouth something to do.

By the time the car pulled to a stop
I was already feeling the inebriating effects of the effervescent
wine. Vanni helped me out of the car and I had to hang onto his arm
to avoid stumbling and embarrassing myself. Iris was either
blissfully oblivious or she was mercifully using discretion, but
she paid me little to no mind as she led our little parade into the
radio station’s lobby.

As she went to check us in, Vanni pulled me
back by the hand and whispered, “I’m glad you’re here.”

I tipped my head back up to look him in the
eye. “Are you?” I said just as softly.

“Give me a chance and I’ll show you,” he said,
as he twirled a fingertip just inside my palm.

Funny. I never knew that was an erogenous zone
before that exact moment. You learn something new every
day.

“Come on, guys,” Iris called from across the
room, and we followed behind her like obedient children.

There was a flurry of activity once we got into
the studio. Iris and I sat off to the side while Vanni put on his
headphones and got situated in front of the microphone. I opened up
my notepad and took shorthand notes of the interview as it
progressed, even though I basically knew the answers to all the
fairly pedestrian questions.

All except for one:

“So Vanni, will you be spending your holiday
birthday with your girlfriend, Lourdes?”

Vanni noticeably didn’t look my direction as he
laughed at the question. “I’m not the kind of guy to kiss and tell,
man,” he sidestepped. “But it wouldn’t be a birthday without
beautiful women to share it with, would it?”

“Come on, dude,” the radio host cajoled. “Give
us the exclusive. All of New York wants to know if you and Lourdes
are as hot and heavy as you appear in the tabloids.”

For that, Vanni looked over at me. He didn’t
wink, but I somehow sensed he wanted to. “New York will have its
answer soon enough, Mike. Stay tuned.”

Always leave them wanting more.

Iris nudged me with a smile. “That’s your
exclusive,” she said, brimming with confidence.

Yay, me.

As we were leaving Vanni tried to
steal me away by saying we could share a cab up to the hotel, for
that all-important interview that needed to be done. Iris wasn’t
having it. She insisted that we needed to go shopping for something
to wear at Jasper’s big party that night, and that he’d just have
to be patient.

As a wingman, Iris Kimble totally
sucked.

I tried to muster enthusiasm as we bid Vanni
adieu and headed off to get glamorized before the big event that
night. Free clothes and a free makeover just didn’t do much to
excite me while I had all these unanswered questions swirling
around in my head.