Groupie/Rock Star Bundle (7 page)

These were the perks, as Iris
gleefully pointed out more than once, and a once in a lifetime
opportunity for this lowly writer from Tennessee. And I could
hardly complain. It was a huge step up on the social ladder from my
normal Wednesday routine.

The best part of the night was getting to know
Jacob Corey, Jasper’s fabulous assistant. He was a beautiful man of
cutting wit who knew just about everything about everyone, and was
generous enough to dish in conspiratorial whispers I nearly had to
take a blood oath were off the record. He introduced me to all
those big name celebrities I was a little intimidated to approach
on my own, and was – by far – the best dance partner of the night.
He taught my body to move in ways I never knew were
possible.

It became apparent that Jacob was
not just an assistant but Jasper’s right hand man, who
single-handedly made the entire night such a success everyone in
the city would clamor for an invitation to the next
shindig.

By the time he kissed me goodnight
at the break of dawn I knew I had an instant BFF.

In the car on the way back to the
hotel I sent a text to Vanni expressing my regret he couldn’t stay
at the party as it was loads of fun. I still had a devious smile
plastered on my face when I drifted off to sleep at about 6:00
a.m.

Iris pounded on my door by 8:00
a.m., and after a brief five minutes under frigid water I was
dressed and back out running amidst the bustling New York City
crowd.

The band wasn’t due back at the
studio until noon, so the morning was spent at Iris’s office
preparing information for press kits to be released with the
upcoming album. She included me in the creative process, and both
she and Alana were excited about my contributions. It made me
momentarily forget I was asleep standing up.

By afternoon we were at the studio with the
band, along with such guests as Jasper, Jacob and Lourdes. That
last bit was a little hard to swallow so I stayed mostly a quiet
piece of the furniture in the background as I watched all of the
players in their roles. Iris and Jacob were animated and
articulate, standing on equal footing with the powerful Jasper –
who still intimidated me more than I cared to admit. Lourdes was
friendly and familiar with the band, and she and Vanni played their
parts well as young lovers who couldn’t get enough of each
other.

It reminded me of the night before when Vanni
declared he wanted me. He sounded so sincere, and the imprint of
his body against mine provided that physical evidence supporting
his claim. Yet today he had eyes only for the striking brunette who
sat showing miles of tanned, beautiful leg for him while he sang.
Like any straight, red-blooded man he couldn’t take his eyes off of
her and sang each song as a personal serenade from a man possessed
by love.

How could I fit those two pieces of
information in my head?

I endured two hours of this
confusing hell before Lourdes declared she had an appointment and
had to leave. I heaved a deep sigh of relief at the notion, which
made me question only briefly if I had been holding my breath the
entire time beforehand.

Vanni pouted that she had to go, but
gave her a tight cuddle with a passionate kiss for everyone to see,
as if branding her before sending her out into the world. I wanted
to look away but I couldn’t. It was all a part of the ongoing
mystery how he could claim to want both an Amazon goddess and a
no-name travel writer who was more at home at a tractor pull than
in front of a camera. It just didn’t make any sense.

Yet after Jasper offered to share a car with
Lourdes and they both had gone, Vanni’s eyes sought me out and
never left me again the rest of the time we were at the
studio.

It was like a switch flipped. He sang every
song to me, flashed every smile at me and even spared me a wink or
two, or three, while he did his thing behind the
microphone.

It dawned on me that everyone else was busy
doing actual work whereas I was his only audience, as Lourdes had
been before.

Maybe he just needed an adoring fan to woo
while he sang.

This made a lot of sense in my
limited knowledge of singers and celebrities, but didn’t do much
for my ego. Here I was thinking that there was something special
about me to earn his desire, but it could be as simple as I was the
only one paying him any attention.

This disheartening thought drove me out of the
room. I was popping open a soda when Jacob found me. He wore a
sunny smile and was just as energetic as the night before. How was
that even possible? “Where’s the IV pumping speed into your blood?”
I asked, unsuccessfully hiding my own bloodshot eyes behind my
glasses.

“You learn to catch catnaps with
your eyes open,” he winked.

I stifled a yawn. “I’m surprised you didn’t
leave with your boss. Aren’t you needed at HQ?”

“He wasn’t going straight back to the office,”
he dismissed. “I have about another hour before I’m required. So I
thought I’d hang out here, with you.” He studied my face. “But the
minute Vanni started to sing I think all of us disappeared from the
planet. You got it bad, girlfriend.”

I averted my eyes. “I don’t know what you
mean.”

“I don’t blame you,” he offered. “He is a nice
piece of eye candy. Too bad he doesn’t rehearse like he performs. I
was half-tempted to hide all his shirts.”

This made me laugh. “Please don’t. I’d never be
able to get anything done.”

“Good point,” he agreed with grin.

I sighed. “I’m no Lourdes though.”

“Thank God,” Jacob snickered. “One is enough.”
He paused. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

I shrugged. I wanted to pour my heart out and
tell him about all the messages and the flirtation before I came to
New York, my expectations of what I would enjoy here when I
arrived. It sounded stupid in my head. Finally I just confessed, “I
didn’t know about Lourdes until I got here. It just came as a bit
of a shock.”

“Ah,” he said as he leaned back against the
counter. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, hon, nothing is
what it seems in this world. We’re here to create an illusion, an
image.”

“So don’t believe what I hear?” I asked,
parroting Vanni’s own advice to me.

“Or see,” he said. “It’s all carefully
choreographed for maximum effect. Anytime a product is marketed for
sale, you only see what the seller wants you to see.”

“So what is Vanni selling?” I asked out
loud.

“Sex,” Jacob replied. “Here you have this hot
guy trying to sell himself as a rock god, a man who can seduce you
with a song. He dates a blindingly beautiful supermodel so that he
can boost his image, but sells his affection to his adoring fans.
Girls eat that stuff up. All women want to take what the pretty
girls have.”

That hurt. I didn’t think I was that way.
“Sounds manipulative. On all parts.”

“It is,” he said matter-of-factly as he grabbed
an apple from the basket. “That’s just the way it is. Same old
game. New players. And rest assured there will be another Lourdes,
and another, and another – but he’ll be a huge success before he
settles down. If he ever does.”

“So what you’re saying is it would be foolish
to fall in love with someone like Vanni.”

“Fools rush in,” he quoted. Then, with an evil
grin, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t love him for a night. I know
I would.”

I laughed, but this lascivious
encouragement didn’t help me much. That had been what I initially
told myself I wanted when I flew out here. But now, knowing that
was all it could be, took some of the wind out of my
sails.

I stifled another yawn. It was going
to be a long night, especially with the gig and Iris’s after party
to celebrate Vanni’s birthday. I wanted to go back to the hotel for
a nap but now that Lourdes was gone, I enjoyed the attention I was
getting from Vanni. Maybe it was all a charade, but it made me feel
sexy and important.

Maybe I could enjoy it cautiously, as long as I
remembered the rules of the game.

It was dangerous thinking, I knew. But the
minute Vanni entered the room I knew the last thing I wanted was to
leave. Jacob gave me a wink before he left us alone.

Vanni wore that damnable smirk as he strolled
over to where I stood by the coffee dispenser. He poured himself a
cup of tea silently, but his eyes spoke volumes as he inspected me
head to toe.

I felt positively frumpy after the
glamor of the night before.

“Long night?” he asked, as if he didn’t
know.

“Of course,” I replied. “You know me. I’m a
regular party animal.”

He laughed and leaned against the counter so
that we were eye level. “Maybe I’ll find out tonight. Plan on
sticking around for my birthday party?”

“I don’t know,” I offered. Then,
more wickedly, “Depends on what’s in it for me.”

He responded to my challenge by standing
upright and towering over me. Slowly he pulled me toward him with a
strong arm, and I felt my soft curves melt against his body. I
watched his mouth as it descended toward my own, and then – when he
was a breath away – I whispered, “Is Lourdes going to be
there?”

He grinned as he looked from my mouth to my
eyes, then back again. “She’s got an early call,” he
murmured.

“Aw, too bad,” I murmured in return, my eyes on
that sexy pout. “Who is going to kiss you at midnight on your
birthday?”

“Hopefully the person that I’ve wanted to kiss
since I met her eight months ago,” he whispered, which made my
heart topple all the way down to my feet.

“You’re a charmer, Mr. Carnevale,” I said,
stunned he’d remember down to the month. “Why should I believe any
of the pretty things you say?”

He pulled me closer. “Because you
can feel it,” he said.

He was right. I totally could.

I gulped hard as I disentangled myself from his
arms before we did something in public that was probably illegal.
“Then I look forward to midnight,” I said as I spun out of the room
with a smile.

Iris dragged me away from the studio
around the time that Jacob headed back to Jasper’s office. She
claimed that we had some major shopping to do for the gig that
night. At this rate I was going to have to buy another suitcase to
take home with me, or at the very least keep a closet at Iris’s
house for any upcoming New York trips – which, depending on what
happened at midnight – might be a possibility.

I tried to temper my excitement over
having Vanni all to myself that evening with the knowledge that he
would still be “publicly” taken by Lourdes long afterwards. But if
Jacob was right, and I wanted so to believe that he was, it was a
convenient relationship for publicity, not something that was
organic or natural.

It was a business arrangement that
Jasper seemed to be orchestrating with a heavy hand, along with
everything else in Vanni’s musical career.

Vanni had expressed his interest for me way
before Lourdes hit the scene, which I kept telling myself that had
to count for something. I was entitled just one night, if nothing
else.

If Iris had known what I was
thinking as we wandered from shop to shop she’d have dropped dead
in shock. I was a fresh-faced newb from Tennessee who had spent her
fair share of Sunday mornings in church, and Saturday night
watching old Cary Grant movies on TV. I believed not only in the
sanctity of a relationship but the magical promise of true
love.

The cynical 25-year-old in me understood that
was just as much an illusion as celebrity relationships built for
publicity. And that was the chick who was casting her vote for a
night of hot sex with someone who was destined to be a big
star.

A chance for hot passionate sex with
a man who could make my knees buckle with just a glance, or his
trademark smirk? Any girl would do the same in my place, and
probably very soon would. Besides, you’re only young once. And this
was the time in my life to sow those wild oats. Somehow I suspected
they didn’t come any wilder than Giovanni Carnevale.

Iris insisted I get another pair of high heeled
boots, but I insisted only on sheer black top and cropped leather
jacket. I had but one real present for the birthday boy, and I
thought it only appropriate he could see how pretty it was packaged
before he got the privilege of unwrapping it.

That night I pulled out the cobalt blue satin
corset and cinched myself up before adding the sheer lace top that
dipped low in front of my overflowing cleavage. I wore black jeans
that hugged the generous swell of my derrière, something that Vanni
had hinted he couldn’t wait to get both hands around in one of his
more suggestive emails. It was actually written as a limerick that
made me laugh out loud when I read it. It was an ode to my curves
he had written naked, according to what he told me with a grin I
could hear over the phone.

This was the intellectual foreplay
that had me primed and ready to pounce him the minute I stepped off
the plane.

Jacob was right. There was no law against
having one passionate night with the man. It didn’t have to mean
love. Who even knew if there was such a thing?