Vanni: A Prequel (Groupie Book 4) (24 page)

I barely get us in the front door before I’m all over her. My hands roam her familiar body as I kiss her deep and long. I slam the door shut behind us, where I press her against the door. “You want me?” I ask and she nods. “Tell me.”

Her voice is soft and sweet in my ear. “I want you, Vanni.”

“Good,” I say as I nudge her bare knees apart with mine. “Because I want you.”

I reach down to release my cock from my jeans. Before I can slip a condom from my back pocket, we both hear someone clear their throat.

I spin around to find Tina sitting on my sofa. “What the fuck?!”

Tina just smiles as she stands to her feet. “Surprise.”

I quickly zip up and stumble away from Chelsea, who pushes down her dress. Tina looks from one of us to the other.

“Care to introduce me to your friend?”

Though I was feeling no pain thanks to the six shots at the bar, I’m shocked into sobriety by this new development. “This is Chelsea,” I stammer. “She’s an old friend.”

“Old?” Tina repeats as she gives Chelsea the once over. “Certainly not the word that comes to my mind.”

“This is Tina,” I tell Chelsea. “She’s a friend.”

“Oh, darling. Don’t be shy,” she says as she walks over to me and links her arm with mine. To Chelsea she says, “We live together.”

Chelsea’s eyes widen as she glances between us. I turn to Tina.

“What are you doing here?” I demand in a low voice.

“I came to hear all about the show, of course.” Her cool gaze slides to Chelsea. “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse us, dear. We have important business to discuss.” She pulls out her cell phone and calls for the car. “My driver will take you anywhere you want to go.”

Chelsea looks up at me, as if expecting me to step in. And I probably should, but in my new sober state, I realize now that everything that I’ve done to further the band could crumple in a heartbeat if I piss off Tina Nunes. All my eggs are in her basket, and she could crack them all with a snap of her finger. The last thing I want to do is give her any reason to back out of her promise to let us perform on NYE. “I’ll call you,” I offer to Chelsea instead. I know it sounds lame, but I don’t know what else to do.

She nods and then slips through the front door, humiliated and frustrated. Tina steps away from me to lock it behind her.

“What the hell was that about?”

She snickers to herself. “Oh, darling. I have so much more work to do with you. That girl? Really? She looks twelve.”

“She’s nineteen,” I grit through clenched teeth, pissed I feel even remotely compelled to defend myself.

“Yes, well. That’s still too young. The more attention you get, the more of a target you put on your back for young silly girls who want to snag themselves a rock star.” She walks over to the sofa and plops down. “Now come tell me how the show went.”

My jaw drops open as I stare at her. “Are you serious?”

“When I talk about business, I’m always serious. You should know that by now. Or has one night in the sticks warped your reality?”

With a sinking gut I think about Pam. “My reality has always been warped,” I tell her before I stalk to the kitchen to find something, anything, to drink.

I’ve halfway guzzled a fifth of whiskey by the time she saunters in to find me. She pulls another bottle of vino from the shelf, before digging around in the drawers for a corkscrew. Eventually I help her find it.

“So what was all that about anyway? Are we supposed to be exclusive now?”

“Heavens no,” she laughs. “You were off duty tonight,” she adds with a smile. “But, if the choice of bed partner is me or some pathetic groupie, you should always pick me. Friends are hard to come by in this business. You’ll do well not to burn any bridges if you can help it.”

I lean against the table. “So… what? You just came here to fuck?”

She rolls one of her shoulders. “Among other things. I wasn’t lying before. I really am interested in how your show went.”

I chug some more whiskey. “It was a smashing success. Everyone loved us. And I hated every minute of it.” I kill the bottle. She simply crosses her arms and waits. Finally, “I did it for a girl, okay?”

“Of course you did,” she says as she puts her glass on the counter. “My sensitive, tender-hearted Romeo. But oh, foolish boy. Haven’t you figured out love has no place in the spotlight?” She walks over to me, running her hands along my arms. “Sex, drugs and rock and roll. That’s the lie you’re selling. You don’t want to fuck it up with the truth.”

“I’m not lying to anyone,” I tell her.

“Of course you are,” she says. “You’ve never stopped. You’ve lied to the guys in your band. You’ve lied to me. Hell, you’re even lying to yourself. You think there’s this ordinary guy underneath it all, one who can go visit regular families in Queens on Thanksgiving, watch a little football on TV and play with a couple of kids, and that’ll make it easier to stomach selling your soul for fame and glory.”

I glared down my nose at her. “So you know about Sasha, too.”

She leans close. “I know everything, Vanni. I told you I was going to make you a star. I’ve invested a lot of time, money and effort into this endeavor. And I’m not going to sit back and allow you to wreck everything I’ve managed to do for you. You’re going to have to make up your mind what you want to do, Vanni. You can stay here in this run-down house, go back to slinging pizzas at Cynzia’s. Chase after some doe-eyed groupie who will land your ass in jail if you’re not careful, or wind up giving you some screaming brat you have to support. You can crawl into every whiskey bottle in Brooklyn and live out the rest of your ordinary life with nothing but your unrealized dreams to keep you company. Or,” she says as she steps even closer, “You can be a good boy. You can listen to what I’ve trying to teach you. You can make the world stand up and take notice that you are goddamn Giovanni Carnevale and that means something whether they know it yet or not. You can stop trying to piss away everything I’m doing for you to make you a fucking legend. But you better make that choice quick and stick to it. Because if I walk away, good luck trying to find anyone who can do for you what needs to be done.” Her eyes capture mine. “You just need to ask yourself one question. Who do you want to be?”

I can’t decide whether I love her or hate her as I stare down into her deceptively beautiful face. I know everything she is saying is the absolute truth, and it takes someone who really gives a damn to say it so bluntly. She’s invested in me, way more than anyone else had been, except for maybe my aunt. She’s willing to move mountains and hand me the life I want practically on a gold platter. With her I get to attend important parties, meet influential people, and live in a fucking high-rise apartment on goddamn Park Avenue.

Fuck
yes
that’s the life I want.

I grab her by the waist and pull her to my body, molding her to every sinewy line. I capture her mouth in a severe kiss, where I bite at her lips and practically choke her with my tongue. I reach around her to slam everything that is on the table right onto the floor, lying her down on her back on the old scratched table where I used to eat oatmeal and do homework.

I hike up her skirt. There’s a primal growl in my throat as I discover she’s not wearing any underwear. Of course she’s wet for me, holding my life in the palm of her hands has always turned her on. And making her scream has always turned me on, so I unzip my pants and release my hard, pulsating cock before I climb between her spread legs and impale her with precious little preamble.

There’s no lovemaking about it as I ride her hard. One hand clasps handfuls of her hair as the other squeezes her breast. I bend to take a bite out of her skin. I know how far I can go with Tina, farther than I’ve ever gone with anyone before.

The more aggressive I get, the wilder she gets. She’s screaming for me to fuck her harder and faster. The sound bounces off the fading wallpaper. I grunt like an animal as I comply. Thanks to the liquor I’ve been guzzling, I can see the ghosts of my past, including Old Vanni himself, linger in the shadows of that kitchen.

Let them get an eyeful of the New Vanni in all his glory. I put all the missing pieces together with every powerful stroke, filling in the full picture of the man who will lead Dreaming in Blue right into 2006. I unload in her with a victorious yell.

The shadows scatter back to their corners. This is the only truth that matters now. This is who I am. This is who I was meant to be. And if anyone doesn’t like it, they can go straight to hell.

From now on, I live for no one but me.

The rest of 2005 is a blur. I barely notice my first Christmas without my aunt because I’m busy preparing for the NYE show.

This is not an accident.

Tina’s not exactly a holiday person, so the house is never decorated, which helps. Aside from a couple of parties, we can throw all our energy into the upcoming show and not think about Christmas at all.

I don’t even make it back to Bensonhurst to spend any more time at the brownstone. That’s part of another life now, with painful scars that have only just begun to scab over.

Instead I rehearse the band to the point of exhaustion. Tina is very hands on with the project. She’s got dozens of tips and hints to make it better.

“I want you to make an entrance,” she tells me. “Let them start the intro while you’re back there behind the fog machine. Then, when that spotlight hits you, you fly out of that cloud of blue smoke and attack that stage like you mean it.”

I nod and we set up the intro again. Like always, she’s completely right. That it makes it better.

If Sasha notices that I’m not talking much anymore, she doesn’t say anything. But I can tell she’s watching me. I can feel her concern.

Too little, too late. I’ve got shit to do, and convincing everyone that I’m okay is not high on my list of priorities.

Of course I’m okay. I’m living with a sexy, powerful woman in a luxury penthouse, I’m about to play one of the hottest venues in town on one of the biggest nights of the year. I’ve got the next six months set up for me, with a regular gig at Sedução and six, count ‘em, six, out-of-town shows.

Finally Tina proves true to her word, which makes me even more loyal to her, even though there are already some grumblings in the band.

I want to remind them that they wouldn’t have all these opportunities if it wasn’t for me, but I’ll hold onto that little nugget until I need it.

Instead I focus on the business, on the music, and on Tina. Even in the bedroom, she’s refining this new Vanni’s hard edges. Since she’s older than me, she teaches me things that I never learned before. She’s up for anything, no matter how raunchy. There are always new toys to try out. I thought she might shatter into a million pieces with the orgasm I gave to her after I handcuffed her.

Nothing is forbidden with her. She even suggests that we could invite other women into our bed, provided that she gets to select them. “No teenagers,” she repeats again as we prowl around a swanky party full of the most beautiful, successful people in the city.

We take home a model who is so beautiful she doesn’t even seem real. Watching her with Tina is all the Christmas gift I need.

By December 31
st
, I’m so ready to hit that stage for my Sedução debut I feel like I’m going to burn up in my own skin. And this time, unlike before, we’re actually on the roster. Dreaming in Blue is scheduled to perform between two up-and-coming musical acts. The crowd in the joint is insane. They go even crazier as I jump out of that smoky mist and assault them with a sexually brazen act that has all the party girls down front ready to hop up on stage with me, which of course I allow because who
doesn’t
want to dance with sexy, beautiful women?

Our set is a resounding success. By midnight, I’m on stage with my band and the rest of the talent booked that night, counting down to an amazing new year. I sweep Tina up into my arms for a deep, long kiss. I can’t wait to see what happens next.

We head down to Atlantic City in January, where we’re booked in one of the hottest resorts. We draw the groupies like flies, but I resist any after-parties. Tina is right. I don’t need to follow my dick around anymore. “Leave them wanting more,” she advised as her fingers trailed down my body. “As long as they love you more than you love them, they’ll never stop coming back.”

But that’s not the real reason I have to abstain. I know now the one painful truth: The sweet, normal girls I always seem to favor want more than the life I can give them, especially now.

Pam is certainly proof positive of that. I wouldn’t give up this life for anyone, and the girls worth having understand that. Best not to open that can of worms if at all possible.

I just save it for Tina when I get home, no matter how much Bobby pouts about it.

With me in groupie lockdown, he has lost his best wingman to seduce pretty young things by the dozen. Felix has no interest playing the field, neither does Yael. They both find Bobby’s behavior sophomoric and dangerous. I finally give him the same warning Tina gave me, to be careful with girls who are so young, who might have expectations that he won’t be able to meet.

He just shrugs me off and finds a couple more girls to hit on.

February we hit the road again, this time heading to Boston. I keep my nose to the grindstone, trying to figure out ways to improve our performances. I’m writing like a fiend, so generally I spend road time in the back, head in a notebook, jotting down lyrics. I usually bring Yael into the process once I get the melody down, and we end up collaborating on several songs. We’ve got our eye on recording a demo now, though Tina thinks it’s premature.

“You need more experience,” she says. “We’ll talk about it after June, when things slow down.”

Only things don’t slow down. For Spring Break we’re in Florida, where we book at least three more gigs for summer.

It’s May before I make it back to Bensonhurst. I don’t bother with Fritz’s. There’s no point. Instead, I decide to renovate the brownstone. I’m not living in it, so I can pretty much gut it and change it into something a little nicer. It’s my biggest investment, after all. I want to add to its value in a way that poor Aunt Susan could never afford to do.

I’m doing well by this point, with some disposable income outside of what I want to spend on the band. I even have my very own car. Of course, it’s actually Tina’s. She bought a brand new sports car for me to zip around town in, so the whole city knows she’s grooming a star. With the expensive clothes and the fancy car, plenty of girls try to hit on me. I just tell them to come see me at a show and I’m done with it.

I follow Tina’s advice to a T.

I drive by the cemetery where Aunt Susan is buried, but I don’t stop. I haven’t stopped since November, before Thanksgiving. I feel like a shit about it when it crosses my mind, but surely she’d understand. Building a career takes time and energy. Some people go to college. I lug equipment across the eastern seaboard, performing for larger and larger crowds, trying to perfect our brand.

It’s a breakneck pace, one that takes its toll on some of the members of the group. Yael wants to record a demo, and Bobby just wants more time to party. Only Felix and I seem to understand that we need to keep our heads down and do the job.

By July, though, I’m exhausted. Tina surprises me with a trip to Portugal. I finally get to break in my first passport. We stroll along white sand and make love in the surf of our private beach. It’s perfectly blissful until I bring up recording a demo record.

“I told you, you’re not ready.”

I heave an exasperated sigh. “You keep saying that, but I’ve busted my ass for seven months straight. I don’t really know how much harder I have to work to be ready.”

She runs her finger down my abdomen, which now sports a natural tan. “Anyone ever tell you that your worst quality is a lack of patience?” She cuddles next to me. “We’re here to relax. We can think about all of that on the plane ride home.”

Only we don’t talk about it. She takes some anti-anxiety pills and sleeps most of the way.

July fades into August. Our work load has lessened because we’re staying primarily in New York, Connecticut, Philadelphia and New Jersey. Despite our growing success, I notice that our venues stay pretty much the same. Same crowd. Same spots on the roster. Same pay.

And I’m not the only one who notices it. All the guys are vocal about how we’ve stagnated. When I bring it up to Tina, she just blows it off. “You’ll get there,” she promises again and again.

But by September, we all notice that there’s a new musical act inching its way up the leaderboard at Sedução, with a super hot Latino singing lead. The very day they get to headline, which Dreaming in Blue has never done, I break every speed limit to get back to the penthouse to confront Tina about it.

Instead I find her fucking said super hot Latino in our bed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I scream at her before I lunge at the young man who couldn’t be more than twenty-one. He puts up a fight and we exchange blows, which bloodies both of our faces and blackens both of our eyes.

“Maybe I should just go back to my brownstone,” I say. I’m going to force her to make a choice like she forced me one to make one once upon a time.

“Maybe you should,” she tells me as she covers herself with an expensive silk robe. “It’s becoming clearer and clearer to me that might be where you belong.”

It’s the only time in my life I’ve ever wanted to hit a woman. I spent all this time as her pampered plaything, on the line, waiting for her to fulfill her promises that she never had any intention to fulfill.

I had jumped through all her hoops and did all her bidding, but in the end I realized the ball had never left her court at all. And now she was ready to take it and go home, leaving me as high and dry as the first time I had walked into her club.

Instead I take my anger out on her perfectly regal bedroom, slamming her vanity chair into the mirror and using the broken legs to smash anything that sparkles like it’s worth something.

The last time I leave her penthouse, I’m escorted out.

And that fight isn’t the worst one I have that week. We may not be fuck buddies anymore, but we are in business together. When I ask her what our future is at the club, she says that there are no hard feelings. However our gigs dry up at Sedução when she wants her new Latin boy toy and his band to get top billing and I flat out refuse to play before him. “It’s just business,” she says over and over again, but all I can think about is how she looked on top of that motherfucker. That I’m wasted on nonstop expensive champagne doesn’t help. I sign the death warrant to our best venue when I slur, “Why do the whores always like it on top?”

Because I’ve cost us our most lucrative venue, I end up clashing with the band over how tightly Tina held the reigns on our career. “Admit it. You were fucking whipped, dude,” Bobby says.

“What the fuck do you know about it?” I yell back. “You can’t get a girl to fuck you if she’s old enough to know better. Fuck off.”

He lunges at me, taking a swing. “You followed your dick and painted us all in a corner!”

I swing back. “At least you’re not in jail!”

Felix and Yael finally break us up and separate us, but the damage is done.

Bobby Rocco officially quits Dreaming in Blue on September 28. We suspend any future shows until we find a replacement.

As it turns out, that is easier said than done. We hold auditions for two weeks solid but none of the guys feels like the right fit to me. Now that I have the band whittled down to Yael and Felix, I want someone who matches our sensibilities and has our same kind of drive. We essentially have to start over, and I want someone committed to the cause.

In mid-October, a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and a British accent arrives at the loft, with a cute blonde in tow. “The name’s Iain Wallis,” he says. “This is my girlfriend, Alana.”

I study him thoroughly. I love his look, which will fit right in with ours. He’s got long hair. He’s skinny but handsome. Best of all he’s not some road hound ready to blow all his cash on groupies and booze. He’s older than Bobby, certainly more settled with a steady girlfriend who seems to adore him. Best of all he’s been in bands before, mostly in England. When he shows us he can adapt to any style of music we play, Yael, Felix and I know we’ve found another musical brother.

He’s an official member of the band by the beginning of November, though there’s not much we can promise him at this point. We have no gigs for the foreseeable future. While we were fighting to keep our band together so we could perform, every venue we had come to rely on had dried up. They simply weren’t interested. Dreaming in Blue belonged to Tina Nunes, and no one wanted to touch us with a ten-foot pole.

I suck up every last iota of pride and head back to Sedução. Maybe now that Tina can see we’ve replaced our weak link, she’ll give us another chance. My nest egg, which I got used to spending freely during my days as a free-wheeling gigolo, is depleting by the day. I know I have to do something fast or else I’ll have to put this dream to rest once and for all.

I’m intercepted by Sasha, who tells me that Tina won’t see me. “You never should have called her a whore,” she says.

“She never should have fucked around,” I respond.

“Come on, Vanni. It’s not like you both were exclusive. You weren’t even in love.”

I lean across the bar. “There’s no room for love in rock and roll.”

She sighs. “You can make it without her, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Really?” I challenge. “Because without her we’re playing crap gigs where nobody gives a shit if we’re in tune or not. She’s ruined me.”

“She didn’t ruin you, Vanni. You ruined yourself. You believed the lie because you wanted to. She was never going to give you a headlining gig. She was using you every bit as much as you were using her. And you’re smart enough that I know that you know that.”