The Complete Groupie Trilogy Page 19

  “I don’t sleep with groupies,” he assured me. “That stopped with you.”

  It was as though the world crashed down around my ears. “So you’re sleeping your way up from the ladder from now on?”

  He realized his mistake too late. “You know that’s not what I meant, Andy.”

  “No,” I told him coldly as I closed my laptop and unplugged it. “I never know what you mean, Vanni. You say one thing to me, something to someone else and something else entirely to the entire world. I don’t even think you know who you are anymore.” Before I stomped off to the bedroom I spat, “You should have been an actor, not a singer.”

  He followed me into the bedroom. “What about you?” he wanted to know. “You’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of being at the right place at the right time. You knew how to get on Jasper’s payroll; you even knew how to get in good with someone like Graham Baxter in Las Vegas.”

  I spun around. “How could you say that to me?”

  “Tell me you didn’t sleep with him,” Vanni demanded. He dug out the card I’d long ago given him like I had promised Graham I would. Vanni flipped it around to show the room number scrawled across the back. “Don’t talk to me about sleeping my way up a ladder.”

  I pulled out my suitcase and flung it open. “What if I did sleep with Graham?” I challenged. “Why would that matter to you? We never had a commitment, as you are so fond of reminding me, especially if you want to sleep with someone else. It’s only for the moment, girl,” I sneered, mocking the song he had written for me. The one that had meant so much to me.

  “A moment’s all you need,” he snapped back. “And a moment’s all I wanted.”

  Angry tears blinded me as I stuffed clothes blindly into the suitcase. I might have been packing his stuff for all I knew. “You are a bastard,” I told him.

  “Maybe,” he conceded. “But I never said I’d be anything else.”

  That was his excuse for everything. He never made promises, so no one could ever expect anything. What a perfect little world for him.

  I slammed my suitcase shut and zipped it, then stormed up to where he stood blocking the doorway. “Then you deserve everything you get,” I spat. “You’re nothing more than a dancing bear being paid to sing.”

  We were face to face and I could see the corner of his mouth twitch with anger. “And you’re nothing more than a climber,” he shot back. “On to the bigger, better deal. Do you want to call Graham or should I?”

  “Go to hell,” I gritted as I pushed by him.

  “Tell me when the baby comes,” he called after me. “I want to know what kind of gift to buy.”

  I slammed out of his house and called a cab from the sidewalk, where I walked aimlessly blinded by unshed tears. By the time it caught up to me, my eyes were bloodshot and I could barely croak out a destination.

  Since I already had a hotel room rented in the city I simply went there. I knew it was in the same hotel as the M&G events but by then I was too tired and emotionally devastated to care. I needed to get to a place to lick my wounds privately. It was only for one more night anyway, I had a Monday flight back to Nashville.

  It couldn’t come soon enough. I was so over this whole crazy affair and the stupid fabricated world in which it flourished. I thought about seeing what it would cost to switch my ticket but the minute I opened the computer it landed right where it had been before: the band’s email box.

  Right at the top was an email from Talia. “I’m sorry I couldn’t let you come up to my hotel room tonight,” it read. “But everything good in life is worth the wait. I’ll be thinking of those words you said when I touch myself. Then, soon, you can touch me too. Until then, read this and think about me when you jerk off.”

  She included a rather explicit piece of fan fiction where she and Vanni were together for the first time at last. I stopped reading two sentences in.

  I was instantly horrified. If it was true, then Vanni was an even bigger asshole than I currently thought he was. If it wasn’t, then this woman was going headlong off the rails. What really sucked was that I couldn’t figure out which was the more feasible of the two.

  I slept until pretty late in the morning. In fact, it only had a few minutes left of being morning. I took a long shower and dressed down for my first steps out into my new Vanni-less world. I kept my hair straight, my makeup minimal and all my curves sufficiently camouflaged by layers of clothes.

  This was who I really was. I wasn’t some sexy glamazon who chased around superstars. I was just a writer from a Southern town, who mistakenly thought she wanted to be a part of another, glitzier world.

  I always liked things that glittered. I never knew it would be my downfall.

  On the way down in the elevator I thought briefly about what Vanni was doing. Was he missing me? Was he regretting our fight or the nasty things we said? Or had he already called Kat to come and sleep in my vacated spot? I tried to rattle such thoughts from my brain.

  Instead I went to the brightly lit café on the ground floor. I would have ordered room service but I thought maybe if I could see Talia and speak to her I could get a better read on how dangerous she might be. If she was seeing things or hearing things that weren’t happening or weren’t being said, then she definitely could pose significant risk. That was a dangerous level of delusion.

  I texted Alana after I was seated, but she had yet to respond by the time my food came. I picked at the salad, which was the only thing light enough I thought would settle in my stomach. It had been in a knot since the night before and all the hurtful things Vanni and I said to each other.

  “Pardon me for intruding,” a male voice came from behind. I briefly thought it might have been Vanni, so my head whipped around.

  It was a younger man of average height, with coal black hair that flowed gently to his collar. His bright green eyes stood out from his olive skin, framed by full, dark lashes. He wore a sunny, bright smile. “Yes?”

  He handed me a flower he had plucked from a nearby empty table. “A pretty lady shouldn’t look so sad. Here you go.”

  I smiled as I accepted, and I think I murmured my thanks like a proper Southern girl. He nodded and then walked back over to the next booth where he had been sitting reading a book over his coffee.

  I gave up on my salad about halfway through. I shoved it away with a sigh.

  “I’m sorry,” the voice said again. I looked over into those green eyes. “I hate to bug you but… are you okay?”

  I gave him a more genuine smile. He was a striking looking man and he was sweet to be concerned. And after all… I was a free agent. “Yes,” I said and then indicated to the seat across from me, which he took instantly.

  “I love your hair,” he said as he sat. “Very edgy. Are you here for the concert?”

  The concert, I thought. The big event for the hotel. “Yes,” I said automatically. Then, “Well, no.” He looked confused. “I was.”

  “I could only get tickets for tonight,” he said. “Came up from Philadelphia. Are they as good live?”

  “They’re great,” I responded honestly. “They’ve really grown over the years.”

  “Long-time fan?”

  I thought back. “Two years.” Had it really been that long? “I saw them for the first time in Philadelphia, actually.”

  “So you really have been in since the beginning. Do you know the guys in the band?”

  I tried not to let my face give anything away. “How well do we ever know anyone?” I pondered.

  “Touché,” he said with a smile. “Which reminds me, I’m Galen.”

  I accepted his outstretched hand. “Andy,” I said.

  “Unusual name for a girl,” he commented. “Wait a second. You’re not Andy Foster are you?”

  “I am,” I said, surprised that he could have put that together. He must be a real fan.

  “You do all their press. I love your work,” he said sincerely. “I’m a writer myself, but not to your level, obviously.”
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  I laughed. “I’m not sure I’m at any level. I just happened to be at the right place at the right time.” Vanni’s words still rung in my ears, but I tried not to let it show on my face. “In this business it’s all about who you know.”

  “I think that’s true in any business,” he commented. “But in any case, it’s nice to meet you.” He tipped his head in my direction with a smile. “So are you going to the concert tonight?”

  I looked away. “I hadn’t planned on it,” I mentioned casually. I could always get into the venue since I still had my press pass. But it seemed pointless now. Just an exercise in futility. Or torture.

  “Well,” he leaned forward. “Thing is I have an extra ticket. I had invited a friend in the city but she can’t make it. And I hate to go alone. I’d be honored if you went with me.” I grimaced slightly. “First row,” he added with a smile.

  I sat back against the chair and gave the matter legitimate thought. First row, huh? That would make it very easy to leave with a little pride intact – I could show Vanni that two could play his game. I wasn’t going to pine over him if I had a good looking date, and he’d already accused me of worse with Graham. No grass was going to grow under my feet just because some self-important rock star had a wandering eye.

  Let him play around with his little dancer. I had no problem showing him exactly what he was missing.

  “Sure,” I said finally.

  I spent the afternoon shopping. For someone who used to wear five different pieces of clothing ten different ways, I was quickly becoming a fashionista. I thought about going sexy Goth again but that was so yesterday. Instead I went a little more high class. I wore an azure blue asymmetric top with a rhinestone-beaded strap on the side, and the polyester/spandex dipped low to provide just a hint of cleavage. The top was banded at the bottom, so I finished off the outfit with black dress slacks and black lace peep toe booties. I didn’t know where I’d put this on the way back home, or even where I’d wear it again, but if this was going to be my last DIB concert I was going to go out in style.

  I went easy on the makeup, not the caked Goth look I had opted for before, and finished the look with a shimmery, glittery all over powder that smelled of verbena.

  It briefly occurred to me how shitty it was to dress for one man while going on a date with another, but using a spare ticket to a concert with a guy I just met could hardly be called a “date.”

  It was convenient. That was all.

  I wasn’t so sure my “date” felt the same way. When I met up with him in the lobby he was visibly impressed with the kind of trouble I had gone to. “You look amazing,” he said. “I’m beginning to think lingering over breakfast was the luckiest thing I’ve done this whole trip.”

  “Thank you,” I offered graciously.

  He looked at his watch. “We have a bit yet. Would you like to get a drink at the bar before we go?”

  “I’d love to,” I breathed in relief. I needed something to calm my nerves. I didn’t say much as I slugged back straight whiskey. Off his look I commented, “Tennessee girl,” with a smile. And then ordered another one.

  He laughed and ordered likewise. Neither of us felt any pain by the time we got to the concert. I followed him to our spot right in the first row. Despite the whiskey my hands shook as I sat in my seat and wiped my sweaty hands on my pants. I thought my heart would beat a hole through my chest as we waited for the show to start. Each moment was agonizingly long, and the closer it came to show time the more convinced I became this was a really bad idea.

  Who was I kidding? He wouldn’t care if I was there with the top ten most eligible bachelors in Hollywood. He’d already made up his mind about me.

  I was just a groupie.

  My blood burned to think about it. I glanced over at Galen, who was just a normal guy like any other. Another fan, even.

  If this is where Vanni thought I belonged, at the bottom of the ladder with all the other normal people, then this is what he would get. I grinned at Galen as the lights went down.

  I might have imagined it but Vanni exploded onto the stage with even more force than usual. He launched right into his harder material at the onset, almost like he was trying to get out some of his aggression from our night before.

  This theory seemed even more feasible after the way his face hardened when he saw me in the front row.

  I leaned toward my date and threaded my arm in Galen’s. It was horrible to do, I knew, but I was rewarded by the anger in Vanni’s face before he spun around and stalked to the other edge of the stage… where Talia sat.

  It became sort of a game of chicken throughout the set. He would get more sexually demonstrative with Kat or with his fans, and I would snuggle more with Galen – who either couldn’t get a handle on my behavior or thought he had just scored with a woman way more promiscuous than I was earlier that afternoon.

  When Vanni came out into the first row to sing my song, I held my breath as he made his way down the line. This time he touched each girl’s face, held her hand, kissed her fingers and then moved on.

  He paused in front of me, and I nearly shattered like glass when he cupped the back of my head and tugged possessively at my hair. His eyes were deep and unreadable. “I can’t promise more than this moment, girl, but please don’t give up on me.” He brought my fingertips to his lips for a moment, and then moved on to the girl to my right. He didn’t spare me another glance, but his well-timed innuendo was enough to throw my whole heart back into chaos.

  What was he doing to me? Was it fun for him to keep me on the line like this? How could he look me in the eye, know how deeply I’ve fallen, and try to push me further still?

  What was I trying to prove by coming to the concert? No matter who I dated after Vanni, they would all would pale in comparison.

  He was stitched so deeply in my heart I didn’t know how to breathe without him

  And that was the real reason I came. I could call it revenge but the God’s honest truth was I needed to see him, to have him touch me… to sing to me words that he may have meant or not.

  I needed the illusion as much as he did.

  He ended the concert by allowing women to jump up on stage and dance to a new song, aptly titled, “Show Me Your Moves.” Written for a dancer, no doubt.

  I stayed on the floor and watched the action, which seemed to further sour Vanni’s mood. He ground against eager groupies who were delirious this kind of close contact was part of the show. That included Talia, who grabbed both his ass cheeks in her hands and guided his hips against her own.

  I was livid. It was one thing to punish me but what he was doing to a possibly disturbed individual just to feed his ego was over the line. I stalked out before the song was over. Galen chased after me uncertainly.

  “Andy?” he called as he ran behind me in the street. “Andy!”

  I stopped and turned toward him with tears streaming down my face.

  “What’s going on?” he wanted to know as he caught up to me.

  I shook my head. How could I tell him? Where would I begin?

  Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning crackled throughout the sky. Galen took charge of the situation and guided me the remaining blocks to the hotel.

  Instead of going to the M&G, he led me back into the bar. I slid into a dark booth in the back while he ordered our drinks.

  “I get the feeling I don’t know everything,” he said as he slid in next to me.

  I didn’t say anything. When the drinks came I killed mine and his too. He ordered more and waited. Another two gone and I finally slurred that he should go to the M&G without me.

  “I’m not leaving you here like this,” he stated. “We don’t have to talk but you shouldn’t be alone.”

  Another two drinks… doubles at that. By then I was teetering right off the cliff of tipsy toward the canyon of intoxication. But nothing seemed to dull the exquisite ache that had taken hold of my heart. I kept waiting for the buzz, the high, the liftoff that wou
ld take me away from my sad and bitter reality and land me somewhere else entirely.

  Galen waited patiently as my moods went from zero to sixty, right along with my blood alcohol level, trying to process my kaleidoscope of emotions. At first it was anger. After about the fifth expletive, Galen finally asked, “Are you mad at Giovanni? Has he done something to you personally?”

  “More like what he hasn’t done,” I’d answer cryptically before depression would suddenly set in. “It’s all my fault,” I’d conclude in a wail.

  “What’s your fault, Andy? I don’t understand.”

  Then we circled back to anger. “After all I did to help him, to help all of them. Especially after Lourdes.”

  “Lourdes?” Galen asked. “The supermodel? Is it because she’s pregnant?”

  I shook my head. These were my secrets still to keep, weren’t they? Then I thought of Vanni and Kat in Central Park, and I realized my spot had been effectively cut out of the inner circle. Why did I have to give a damn anymore? I was just a groupie who made the unfortunate miscalculation of thinking I was closer than I really was, right?

  Finally I nodded the affirmative to his question. He nodded as if he understood and slid closer to me in the booth. “I can understand why you’d be mad at him. It takes a special kind of lowlife to leave a woman pregnant.”

  I thought of Jasper. “Yes, it would,” I muttered bitterly. “Especially just to protect his investment.”

  Galen’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? What investment?”

  My head felt submerged underwater. How many drinks I had by that point? I suddenly lost count. “I should go…”

  As I stood I made that realization most of those who have overindulged have made: gravity is not our friend. Galen was quick to catch me as I crumbled.

  “Come on. Let’s get up to your room.”

  I shook my head. “I hardly know you. I need Vanni…”

  “Vanni’s not here,” I heard him say from somewhere deep inside my own head.

  Truer words were never spoken. Vanni wasn’t there, and wouldn’t likely be there again. I fought back more damnable tears and tried to remind myself of what it felt like to see Kat and Vanni together, to know that despite his pretty words I was nothing more than a number – someone who served his purposes while he chased me but lost her luster whenever things got too serious.