The Complete Groupie Trilogy (46 page)

Iain glared at him. Isn’t that what got them all in this situation in the first place? “Just one,” he corrected. “And she’s not here.”

Leo was unmoved. “Her loss.” He called over another roadie and gave him specific instructions. Wait for the lines outside to form and pick out five or ten of the hottest girls to award with backstage passes. “The younger and sluttier the better,” he said with a grin. “If he doesn’t get laid, at least we will.”

By the eight o’clock show time the lucky groupies sat in the wings, practically unglued with the excitement they’d get to meet their idol up close and personal. The band took the stage and Vanni, ever the showman, turned his drunken stupor into a full on sexual assault of every lucky woman who sat anywhere near the stage. With his trademark strut he swaggered all over that stage and remembered almost all of the lyrics. When he’d mess up he masterfully did the old switcheroo with other songs that the band had played in the past but didn’t necessar
y have on their set list.

The audience ate it up. It didn’t feel like a manufactured show, which made the whole thing rather intimate. He even brought one of the groupies on stage to sing to her, that familiar song about longing for someone he just met, and he fed off of the enamored look in her eyes. In that moment he could do no wrong, no matter if he felt like he was useless, pathetic, and a few hip gyrations away from blowing chunks all over the pristine stage. He slithered around the stool on which she sat and made her fall hopelessly in love with him.

He punctuated the song with an impromptu peck on the tip of her nose. As he pulled away he was surprised to open his eyes and find anyone but Andy sitting there. It punched through his drunken fog and sobered him up quick. He motioned for Leo to come and get the groupie to return her to her spot backstage, then launched into something hard and sexual to everyone clamoring for more in the front row.

They did their last song, and of course their encore song complete with fireworks, then all the guys took their bows before heading off stage. Vanni brushed by all the hopeful groupies to lock himself away in his dressing room, slamming the door on the chaos backstage so he could get a few moments alone to regroup. There was, of course, another party. It’d be hours before he got back to the beach house, where he’d ultimately only get a day or two to
pack for their European dates.

But he couldn’t think of any of that. All he could think of was that song he wrote three years before when he met an unusual woman with a sweet Southern accent and an hourglass figure that made his mouth water. She was the perfect combination of lady and bombshell, and she wa
s blissfully unaware of either.

His heart ached for her. He was almost certain this would be th
e cause of his ultimate demise.

Someone knocked at his door. For a moment he considered not answering. Finally he pulled himself off the chair and opened it partially to peek through.

It was the groupie he had serenaded on stage. “Hey,” she said with a hopeful smile. “Leo told me to come and get you for the party.”

He sighed as he looked down at her earnest face. She was young, probably just barely twenty. She had blond hair and clear blue eyes and a fit athletic figure on display in her silk shorts and sequined tank top. All he had to do was open that door a little wider and he could have his way with her in ways she probably wasn’t even aware of yet. A year ago, that’s pr
obably what he would have done.

But this Vanni bore battle scars. He knew that he could close his eyes and fake it for the moment, but whenever he opened his eyes she’d still be a substitute for what he really wanted. He’d break her heart when he never called her again, because as nice as it was it wasn’t “the best.” It would blend in with all the other ones who came before – nameless, faceless warm bodies to hold onto until he moved on to the next one.

He knew as he looked down at her she would probably be perfectly okay with that. She was young but she knew the score. She wasn’t after a relationship or a ring. She wanted to have her night with her idol so she could have a fantasy to hold onto throughout the rest of her completely ordinary life. For a night he would make her feel like the only one, and in today’s sexual revolution maybe that was all that was needed.

The problem was that wasn’t enough for him anymore. Instead of opening the door he just nodded and told her that he’d be out in a minute. He shut the door on her still hopeful, but now confused, face before going over to the sofa that lined the back wall. He slid out of his open shirt and flopped down, draping his elbow over his eyes.

The next knock was more commanding, and opened before he could even think about answering. “Are you fucking kidding me, man?”

It was Leo. He was staring at Vanni in disbelief. Here he had this barely legal hottie ready to jump his bones and he sent her away? It was a total waste of his superstardom. And he told him as much.

“I don’t sleep with groupies,” Vanni informed him.

“Since when?” Leo challenged.

Vanni sent him a stern look from where he still lay on the sofa. “Since now. What’s the problem anyway? That’s just more road pussy for you, right?”

Leo shook his head as he walked over to the chair next to the sofa. “You got it bad, son. But do yourself a favor. Don’t wreck yourself over some bitch, man. They’re not worth it.”

Vanni bristled at Andy being regarded in such a way. “Thanks for the advice, Leo. How’re the wife and kids? Oh wait…”

Leo just laughed. “Yeah, you know it. Why settle for one dish the rest of your life when you can keep sampling the buffet? And look at you, man. You don’t even have to try. Just crook your finger and their panties fall off.”

Vanni shrugged. That wasn’t what he wanted anymore. “Yeah. But eventually that wears off. They go from looking at you like a god to looking at you like some piece of gum they got stuck to their shoe. This,” Vanni said, motioning around him regarding his world, “is a fantasy. And it is best left that way.”

Leo was undaunted. “Fine. Then don’t fuck the groupies. That can get messy anyway. All you need is one to flip her shit and come after you with a gun…” He trailed off when he realized he had gone too far. Vanni glared at him and said nothing. “So that’s the probl
em, then,” Leo concluded.

Vanni didn’t say anything as he sw
ung his arm back over his eyes.

“But,” he went on, “that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a little somethin’ somethin’ on the side. Get yourself another player. Someone who knows the rules of the game and won’t expect anything more from you than a financial transaction.”

Vanni sat up in disbelief. “A prostitute? Really? That is your answer?”

Leo shrugged. “You pay enough money and they’re not even prostitutes. They’re escorts. They help you keep this rock star image and don’t do anything stupid to keep you chasing your tail for years on end. Either way,” Leo concluded, “you gotta get that other chick out of your head. She traded up, big man. The best revenge is never letting her see that got you down.”

Leo left Vanni to absorb that information.

He was an asshole but he was right. Andy had made her choice. He
had to get her out of his head.

So he reached for another bottle.

Chapter Two

July 2010. Philadelphia

Andy

Andy watched the sun inch across the sky from the hospital waiting room window. It was heading west, like someday soon she and Graham would be… somewhere Vanni had already gone. She still couldn’t believe that he had left her like he did in that hotel room. He didn’t bother to listen to her reasons, he just jumped ship. Again. Like
he was always so willing to do.

Had she really been so foolish to think this time would be any different?

She ran her thumb over the charm bracelet he had given her. Each tiny, dangly trinket represented a step in their weird, wild, chaotic romance. Each time she looked at it she relived their tumultuous relationship. As many times as she’d given up hope they had never been able to truly say goodbye; she wore the proof of that on her wrist. She had to believe that one day they’d find their way back to each other again. She clung to the hope that one day very soon he’d add another charm to the chain, one that represented the colossal mistake he made letting her go. When she got to Los Angeles and he was forced to face her again, maybe he’d instantly see how he was so wrong to have let anything get in between them.

Again.

Her thoughts returned to Graham. The condition he was in wasn’t just “anything” and she knew it. She had no idea when she’d be free again to be with Vanni. He was right; it wasn’t like they could just pick up again when she got back to L.A. She had made her choice and it wasn’t him.

Maybe for the first time it wasn’t him.

“Miss Foster?”

Andy turned to see who was addressing her. It was an older redheaded woman with black framed glasses and some of the clearest blue eyes Andy had ever seen. “Yes?”

“My name is Maggie Fowler.”

Andy rose with an outstretched hand to the uniformed nurse. “Yes, Maggie. It is so good to meet you. You come highly recommended.”

Maggie smiled as she sat across from Andy. “That is very kind of you to say. Can you tell me a little bit more about our patient?”

Andy took a deep breath. “Graham is a very successful, driven man. To say that the paralysis has thrown him for a loop is a bit of an understatement. He’s not doing very well with some of the more… personal limitations.”

Maggie nodded. “I take it there has been some resistance to your tending to his daily needs?”

Andy gave her a weary smile. “That’s a nice way of putting it. He needs someone to be there to take care of certain things but I’m afraid my bathing him and changing him won’t work. It’s the final humiliation he just cannot stand. I thought it would be best if we find someone else to do those things now, to develop a more comfortable relationship, someone who would be willing to go with us back to Los Angeles when the doctor finally releases him to go home.”

Maggie nodded again. “I’m sure as Dr. Gilbreath told you I have no immediate ties to Philadelphia at the moment. It actually suits my personal needs quite well if Mr. Baxter will take to me. I’m afraid he will probably be a little antagonistic in the beginning.”

“What do you mean?”

“My job, as I see it, is to get Graham walking again. From what I understand of his current mental state he’s feeling a bit hopeless and depressed. It’s understandable, of course. But he can’t be allowed to wallow in that place for very long. It’s counterproductive.”

Andy nodded again. She agreed, but from where she sat the task of wedging Graham out of his depressed mental funk seemed herculean. “If you can do that, you’re worth your weight in gold. I’ve done everything short of dragging him from the bed kicking and screaming.”

Maggie laughed. “Leave that to me, Miss Foster. That is kind of my specialty. Besides, it usually helps to have an outside, objective influence.”

“I’m ready to try anything,” Andy confessed. “It seems as though things are getting worse instead of better as time goes on.”

“The fog of shock is lifting. As reality sets in he’s going to see how much work he needs to do on a pretty big gamble. The limitations of everyday life will hit him smack in the face when he’s least expecting it. And if he’s not used to having limitations, this will be an even bigger blow.”

Andy nodded. That w
as exactly what she had feared.

“But,” Maggie corrected as she placed her hand on top of Andy’s, “attitude is the one thing we can always fix. The worst kind of disability is negative thinking. You’d be surprised what can be accomplished once the patient goes from thinking he can’t to knowing he can.”

Andy spared her a grateful smile. She felt better than she had in weeks, knowing she was no longer alone in this fight to get Graham mobile again.

She wore the same hopeful grin when she entered Graham’s room later that afternoon. It quickly fell when she spotted the nurse’s scowl while picking up an overturned lunch tray that had been tossed on the floor. Andy took a deep breath as she walked over to the bed. “Now, Graham. What did I tell you about being a bad patient for your nurses?”

He glared at her, his eyes dark and angry. “I don’t see why we still have to be here,” he growled. “They’ve done all they can do for me. It’s painfully clear. I’d like to get back to Los Angeles, back to my own doctors. My own home.”

“So this is your strategy? Being so impossible they have to let you go?”

He looked away. “I just don’t want to be here anymore.”

She perched on his bed. “I know. Me either. But we have to be patient. If you want to walk again…”

“My wanting to walk isn’t the variable here, Andy,” he snapped. “It’s being able to. And I don’t see how that’s going to happen when I’m stuck in this crappy hospital, eating crappy food, doing useless physical therapy that is nothing more than training to live as a cripple.”

Andy closed her eyes and counted to ten. This particular outburst was growing more and more routine. It was the main reason why she had Dr. Gilbreath find a nurse who specialized with paralysis therapy, one who could field these questions with better answers than Andy had. “Well, then I have good news for you. I found a nurse who is willing to start work with us here and then go home with us to L.A. when the time comes.”