I Love the 80s (25 page)

He didn’t know why he regretted it so much now that it was far too late. When Nick didn’t regret a thing. He didn’t know why his lack of freedom bothered him so acutely – because who was free? He was walking down a street in midtown Manhattan, surrounded by suits. Men and women who were chained to jobs, careers, families, and would no doubt change places with him in a heartbeat. Who wouldn’t want to be a rock star if they could?

He thought of Jenna then, of the ever-present frown between her pretty brown eyes and the way she pressed those full lips of hers together. He felt something he hoped was as simple as longing spread through him. He didn’t know why she’d gotten to him the way she had, but he did know that he felt freer with her than he had in years. Maybe it was because she was so determined to solve the mystery he thought was mostly in her head, but how could he resist someone who thought he was at risk and wanted to save him? When was the last time that had happened? Had it ever happened? And he didn’t care what Nick or Sebastian thought about it – he couldn’t let go of that, of her concern, if he tried. He didn’t want to try.

The lights on Madison Avenue clicked over, and Tommy slowed his pace, looking over his shoulder as he approached the corner and trying to avoid being knocked in the head by a woman’s unnecessary umbrella. It was cold, but not wet, he thought.
Crazy New Yorkers
.

He felt only the slightest pressure near his ankle, and
looked down in surprise. Even as he registered that something – a foot? – was hooking around his leg, there was a terrific shove from behind and Tommy found himself lurching forward, pitching into the street – and directly into the path of an oncoming bus.

There was no time. Tommy heard screams, and the shrill shriek of brakes.

He knew he was dead.

After all this
—

He knew it, but he threw out his arms and wrenched his shoulders back as far as he could. He crashed down against the concrete, sliding face down into the gutter.

Pain exploded through him, but he couldn’t deal with that, he had to move—

The bus skidded. Tommy rolled.

His life did not flash before his eyes. There was only cold pavement, pain, and his fury that it had all come to this.

But somehow, the bus missed him.

By about a centimetre.

Tommy knew the precise measurement because his head was right there, too close, too
fucking close
, and he was too scared to close his eyes or even wet himself – both completely reasonable urges, he thought, as he realized over the sound of his racing heart that he would, in fact, live.

I’m still alive
.

The crowd surged forward. Two suits pulled Tommy to his feet, while a woman continued to scream. Only now
that his head was not a pancake could Tommy make sense of the words.

‘Pushed!’ she hollered. ‘I saw it! He was pushed!’

Tommy brushed himself off, dazed. He was man enough to admit that he was shaking ever so slightly, adrenalin and terror combining in his gut and making him feel sick.

‘Hey,’ one of the suits said, peering at him in surprise. ‘Aren’t you—?’

Tommy jerked his arm out of the other man’s hold. Not much of a thank you, but what was he supposed to do? Notify the press that once again, Tommy Seer had met with an accident on the streets of New York? He just … couldn’t do it.

‘No,’ he told the man briskly. ‘I’m not.’

Then he turned and dove into the crowd, letting his legs move him as far away from the scene as he could go. He didn’t quite break into a run, though he wanted to.

But he had the feeling that running wouldn’t help.

Because he hadn’t needed the screaming woman to tell him he’d been pushed – he’d felt the shove. He’d been
thrown in front of a bus
.

Someone was trying to kill him.

You say your ice age hasn’t started to unwind
Your tricky cold war, cruel designs
Lucky penny, lucky penny
How can I make you mine?

The Wild Boys, ‘Lucky Penny’

Half a mind to quit this desperate dance
Am I defined by what I want or what I do?
Imprisoned in my choice and circumstance
But I still want to follow you.

Tommy Seer, unpublished song lyric

Jenna tried to hide her impatience as she did her best to organize Ken’s office yet again. You would think that if someone knew that he was sharing his secretary with a rock star, and that she would therefore be unable to do her job every day, he might take it upon himself to be that little bit neater in her absence.

Not Ken.

It took her hours to reorganize his files and get his calendar into shape, hours that she could have spent doing far more interesting things, like figuring out how to save the man she loved from his fast-approaching certain death, had Ken taken a few moments here and there to keep up with his own clutter.

It didn’t take much. A few minutes of straightening every day, that was all, and
voilà!
– a clean and neat office.

Funny, that was a whole lot like what Aunt Jen used to tell her. Had she turned into Aunt Jen? Or was it that Aunt Jen had completely taken over Jenna’s life at this
point – and vice versa? Not that she’d thought about it in any great depth, but Jenna had initially felt that the very least she could do was leave the life she was using the way she’d found it. It seemed only polite. The plants still thrived, amazingly enough. And now she couldn’t bear messiness.
There’s a place for everything, and everything in its place
, she could hear her aunt sing-songing in her mind, as she’d done so many times throughout Jenna’s childhood.

Her new interest in tidiness probably also had a lot to do with the pages of detailed information she’d written out, all of it neatly organized into dates and times, facts and rumours – as much as she could remember of the last two months of Tommy’s life. She’d had to write it out again and again, until it was as neat and clear as it could be, so that she could reference it all with ease. Having forced herself to be so organized in that part of her life, how could she slack off everywhere else?

Jenna looked out her office window at the evening falling over the city, already so early. Too early. Summer was truly gone. Tommy had about a week left to live. Thinking about it made her feel panicky – and being trapped back at Video TV while he was out there unknowingly risking himself only made it worse.

‘You look annoyed,’ Ken said, bounding into the office, resplendent in parachute pants, a jaunty fedora, and a sparkling midnight-blue ascot. Jenna started in her chair, as much at the outfit as at his unexpected arrival.

‘Hi,’ she said brightly, as a secretary should.

‘And now you look guilty.’ Ken eyed her. ‘Is it that rock star of yours? Duncan mentioned in our phone call yesterday that you and he seemed close.’ His eyebrows rose suggestively. ‘If you know what I mean by
close.
’

Jenna blinked. ‘You and Duncan talk about whether or not I’m
close
with Tommy?’ she asked, incredulous. What she did not ask was,
is this junior high school?
Though it was the logical next question.

‘Oh, dear.’ Ken searched her face. ‘I thought he was kidding. Or that it was wishful thinking on his part, since he thinks everyone in the entire world is as slimy as he is.’

‘I don’t think Duncan knows anything about—’ Jenna began stiffly.

‘Jen. This is no good.’ Ken sank into the visitors’ couch, crossed his legs at the ankles, and sighed. ‘These stars, they’re not like regular people. You can’t trust the things they say when they want to get lucky. I thought you knew this by now.’

‘Why are we having this conversation?’ Jenna could feel her cheeks redden. No doubt her neck and ears, too. She was practically a beacon of shame and embarrassment.

‘This is my fault,’ Ken said in a musing voice. ‘I never should have let Duncan pull you into his stupid games. I knew better, but I really wanted to kick a little MTV butt, is that so wrong?’

‘Ken.’ She waited until he looked at her. ‘I don’t know what you think is happening, but I assure you, it’s not.’

Her boss’s elfin face twisted, so that he looked almost rueful. And very nearly wise.

‘You’re not sleeping with Tommy Seer?’ he asked. The answer must have written itself across her face, because he laughed to himself. ‘That’s what I thought.’

‘I don’t think …’ Jenna’s mind reeled around, trying to figure out what to say. ‘It won’t affect my job, if that’s what you’re worried about,’ she managed eventually.

‘I don’t care about the
job
,’ Ken said with a dismissive wave of his hand. ‘Please. I can put up with Duncan’s crap for a little while longer, and then you’ll be back here and he owes me a serious favour no matter what you did or didn’t do for him.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s you I’m worried about, Jen. You’re not exactly the rock-star girlfriend
type.
’

What every girl dreamed of hearing. Truly.

Especially when she knew it was true.

Jenna felt her teeth were on edge, and ordered herself to stop it.

‘Of course I’m not,’ she said, although it cost her. ‘Don’t you think I know that better than anyone?’

Ken sighed, and his expression changed. He looked sad. Jenna wished herself a thousand miles and as many years away from this conversation.

‘Some people love power more than they’ll ever be able to love anything else,’ Ken said. ‘They might not even mean to be that way, but they can’t help it.’

Jenna nodded sagely, though she didn’t think
power
was the reason she and Tommy would never last. It was probably a lot more to do with, to pull a couple of reasons
out at random, his fame and beauty versus her lack of same. The fact that she was only supposed to be twelve years old here in 1987, not old enough for Tommy at all.

Oh, yes, and his imminent death.

But Ken wasn’t paying attention to Jenna any more. He was looking at her, but he was focused on something far away.

‘You have to accept that they can’t help it,’ he said in that same urgent but low voice. ‘It’s that or go crazy.’

‘Ken,’ Jenna said, very softly, so as not to kill the mood, because she wanted to know what made him look so wistful. ‘Are you telling me you … ?’ She couldn’t complete the sentence. Not because she was suddenly so delicate, but because he was, no matter his confessional mood at the moment, her boss. ‘You and a rock star?’

‘A different kind of rock star,’ Ken said with a weary sort of sigh. ‘A more corporate version.’ His mouth curved. ‘I know you know already. I’m talking about Chuck, of course.’

‘Chuck,’ Jenna repeated, confused but trying not to show it. And then she understood, and suddenly everything fell into place. Ken Dollimore and Chuck Arendt’s famous partnership and even more famous falling-out made a lot more sense if it was romantic. A romance explained the ferocious fights the two of them were known for. The bitterness of it all. ‘But doesn’t he … ?’

‘Have a wife and kids in Greenwich?’ Ken asked with some bite. ‘Of course he does.’ He shook his head, his lips pressed into a thin line. ‘And that’s part of the problem.’
He pulled his fedora from his head with one hand, and ran his other hand through his hair. ‘It’s the fucking 1980s, not the 1950s, but Chuck can’t handle it.’ Ken made a noise in the back of his throat. ‘I’ve been out since I was sixteen years old, and sure, sometimes that sucked, but I did it. But now it’s 1987 and half of my friends are dying or dead, and the other half are HIV-positive or soon to be HIV-positive, and I’m trying to have a relationship with some closeted, married guy?’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I couldn’t do it any more. He can’t admit who he really is – not because he’s afraid, mind you, but because he thinks admitting it would be giving up his power. And Chuck will never love anyone as much as he loves his power.’

‘If that’s true, I’m sorry for him,’ Jenna said. She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t sound like any way to live.’

‘I’m not telling you this to make you feel sorry for Chuck,’ Ken said. ‘Or, hell, even me. But you’ve always been here for me. You were totally cool about the sexual harassment thing—’

‘The
what
?’ Jenna practically yelped.

‘It’s not every secretary who would let her boss pretend to sexually harass her, just to confuse co-workers about his sexual preferences,’ Ken said with a laugh. ‘That was the best idea you’ve ever had. I’m pretty sure half the people who thought they knew what happened between Chuck and me now doubt the whole thing. It’s rad.’

‘That’s me,’ Jenna agreed with a weak sort of smile. ‘I’m rad.’ But at least she now knew why her gay boss spent so much time in her personal space. And the truth
was, she suddenly – retroactively – forgave him for all the inappropriateness. Jenna had always drawn a line between gay space and straight space. Gay men could cross boundaries that she would slug straight men for looking at funny.
Go Aunt Jen
, she thought, admiringly.

‘That’s only one of the reasons I don’t want to see you heartbroken over this guy,’ Ken said, far too kindly. ‘And heartbroken is where you’re heading. Believe me, I know.’

‘Ken …’ But Jenna didn’t know what to say. She looked down, and noticed to her surprise that her hands were clenched into fists on her lap. She uncurled her fingers, let them spread wide. ‘My eyes are open,’ she said simply.

‘How could they be?’ Ken asked, in that same, kind tone that made Jenna want to cry. ‘He’s Tommy Seer. He’s already a myth. Who prepares for a myth?’

‘Sure,’ Jenna said. ‘But I know who I am, too. I do.’

Ken smiled at her, then slapped his hands against his knees. ‘I hope so,’ he said in his usual brisk voice. He got to his feet, and Jenna knew the moment between them was over. She straightened. ‘Don’t you have a rock star to shadow?’ Ken asked, walking towards his office. ‘That bottom-feeder Duncan Paradis apparently feels that you are not providing him with enough information, just so you know. He claimed he was on the warpath.’

‘He’s mad because I can’t give him details on a conspiracy that exists only in his head,’ Jenna said with some heat. ‘What am I supposed to do? Make something up?’