The Complete Groupie Trilogy Read online

  This time, however, he caught her by surprise by reaching up and capturing her lips in a kiss that demanded more than the words.

  He was a man, dammit. Though he couldn’t feel the lower half of his body, he still needed her and wanted her as his woman.

  “Graham,” she said softly as she tried to disengage. “This isn’t the place…”

  He was disappointed and really didn’t bother to hide it. “You’re right,” he conceded as he leaned back against the bed. If only she had kissed him back he would have known if she meant the words she said or if she just felt obligated to repeat them.

  Whether Andy would stay and be with him was an even bigger question mark than whether or not he would walk again. It was hard for him to decide which one he wanted more.

  Her phone buzzed in her purse. She pounced on the distraction to step away from the awkwardness of the situation, but her face fell as she read the text message. “Problem?” Graham asked.

  Andy sighed as she glanced up at him. She didn’t want to bring it up to him, especially now, but it was his record company and he certainly had a right to know. “It’s Iain. I guess things aren’t going very well at their Hollywood Bowl performance.”

  “What’s the problem?” he wanted to know.

  “Vanni’s drunk,” she finally said. “Iain said he’s never seen him this wasted.”

  Graham chortled in disgust. “Sounds about right. He can’t stand that you stayed here with me so he’s going to try and make you choose which romantic hero to save.”

  “This isn’t his being manipulative. Believe me I’m no stranger to that. I think he’s in trouble.”

  “So what are you saying, Andy?” he demanded. “What is it you want to do? Fly to L.A. and hold his hair as he pukes?”

  She shook her head. She had made her choice. The way she calculated it she wouldn’t even see him again for another two months at least. Vanni was just going to have to be a big boy all on his own. She said as much to Graham.

  Again he chuckled. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

  Andy artfully dodged any more discussion about Vanni or the band by suggesting she go get Graham something a little more edible from outside the hospital. He agreed, begrudgingly. He didn’t want her to leave, especially after that text from Iain, but he was starving. Apparently he didn’t think his little stunt with the food tray all the way through.

  This time she planted a kiss on his mouth and promised she’d be back with a greasy, yummy Philly cheesesteak.

  The minute she was out the door, however, she was on the phone with Iain.

  “What’s going on?”

  “He’s ripped, that’s what’s going on,” Iain told her. She could hear the loud sound check going on behind him. “I’m afraid he’s going to plunge head first right into the crowd.”

  She couldn’t imagine. “He’s that bad?”

  “Worse,” Iain confirmed. “And I’ll tell you this. I don’t think that Leo guy is helping matters at all. He’s willing to let him drink even more.”

  Andy’s mouth thinned into a firm line. She’d only met Leo once and hadn’t been all that impressed with him, probably because he was fairly dismissive of her. “Keep me updated,” she instructed. “We should be back in L.A. after you guys get done with the UK gigs. I’ll be able to do more when I’m not an entire country away.”

  “Honestly, babe, I don’t know if you can do anything. It’s up to him now. And he doesn’t give a shit.”

  She wasn’t worried. She felt pretty confident that she could still get through to Vanni. He was mad at her but she knew he still loved her. They would work it out.

  They always had.

  They just had to get in the same room again so he could see that her staying with Graham hadn’t changed her feelings for him. That had to mean something, right? Even though they couldn’t be together?

  When she got back to the hospital Graham was dozing. When he was asleep the lines in his face, many of which deepened since the shooting, smoothed out and he was once again the man she had grown to care about so deeply.

  Was it love? Who was to say? It really didn’t matter. This man nearly gave his life to be her hero. She wasn’t going anywhere. And that was a kind of love that was real and solid, even if she dreamed nightly of being wrapped in another man’s arms.

  She checked online to see how the concert was going through the different social networks. Alarm bells sounded in her head when she realized even the audience could tell he was wasted. She had only really seen him drunk in private once, at her hotel in Los Angeles after he caught her kissing Graham, but she’d never ever seen him blow a performance. He was the consummate professional.

  Someone even uploaded video. She could only watch for a painful moment or two before she had to shut it off. His singing to a groupie after everything they went through with Tawnie and Talia was completely irresponsible. That he gave her the same kind of kiss he had always given Andy just added insult to injury. She couldn’t decide if he was being childish or just stupid… both were legitimate possibilities.

  Either that or he was deeply hurt – and she was the cause. She gulped down familiar guilt and pocketed her phone before she woke Graham for his dinner.

  Chapter Three

  August 13, 2010. London, England.

  Vanni

  They only had six European dates over six weeks, but Vanni’s drinking managed to effectively challenge the first five. He showed up drunk, he fought with the band, he snapped at the groupies. During the week when they had interviews with the press he was late if he showed up at all. This left the interviewers scrambling that they couldn’t get time with the guy the audience wanted to see most. Somehow, though, with the excitement of the band finally heading overseas, they managed to sell out each venue and leave the crowd clamoring for more.

  The more elusive Vanni made himself, the more attractive he was. Their tunes rocketed to the top of the charts both stateside and wherever they happened to tour.

  Worse, the frustration he used to take out with actual women found its way onto the stage. He offered the promise of ultimate sexual fulfillment but stayed at arm’s length. It had groupies swarming in droves. He grew more brazen, leaving the romantic hero stuff at the wayside. He wanted to rock hard and work out all his brooding aggression in front of an audience of tens of thousands of screaming fans. He left ballads off the set lists, even though the girls clamored to hear their favorites like “Wanting Her.”

  Instead he tried out new material he was writing like a madman in his hotel-ridden drunken stupors. The band could barely keep up and the errors were numerous when they played live. The precision he once prided himself upon also fell by the wayside. He was dangerous and raw and unpredictable.

  The girls couldn’t get enough of Giovanni Carnevale. He was the bad boy rocker in every sense of the word.

  By the time they got to London, the last date on their tour, Iain knew what he had to do. He had already flown Alana and George over to stay with his folks while he secretly spent his week in the city looking for a place to live. Though they were selling out arenas and on top of the charts, the whole environment around Vanni was just too volatile. Iain just didn’t see it getting any better, especially once they got back to L.A. and Vanni had to deal with Andy’s living with Graham right under his nose. All the guys worried it was going to get worse before it got better, and he hadn’t signed onto this kind of roller coaster when he joined the band three years before. He was a family man now. If he had to do studio work to pay the bills, that’s what he would do. It was never about the fame for him anyway.

  Alana had already given her blessing. The life of a rock star wife was not exactly her dream come true either. She had George now and he was her focus. She couldn’t care less about being a career woman like Iris; she wanted to be a mom. She was already thinking of adding another to their brood. And she knew with all certainty she didn’t want to do that in the fake and plastic land of Los Angeles, Califo
rnia. She was tired of the fans. She was tired of the fame. And quite frankly, she was tired of Vanni.

  Vanni was predictably late to the meeting that Iain had arranged prior to the show on Friday, which just happened to be the thirteenth day of the month. Even for those in the band without any superstition whatsoever, it sounded eerily ominous.

  He was also predictably drunk, with a bottle of the ever present expensive champagne in his hand. Iain sent a disapproving look to Leo, who had made sure that Vanni had easy access to all the liquor he wanted at the expense of their live performances.

  Leo in particular was another reason Iain wanted to leave. He would have tried to talk to Graham about it had the situation been different. Leo Newman was a liability, both to the band and to Giovanni himself. He drank and partied just as hard as Vanni, and managed to keep himself busy with the groupie castoffs Vanni no longer wanted to indulge.

  “So what’s up, brother?” Vanni slurred as he looked over at Iain. He called him brother, and had for years, but these days there was precious little emotion behind it. Vanni was now on auto-pilot.

  “I’ve decided to leave the band,” Iain told him quietly. The other members looked on, awaiting Vanni’s reaction. They already knew what was going to go down, and some had even considered their own escape routes.

  “Leave?” Vanni repeated. “Why?”

  “Look around you, mate,” Iain said. “This is not the band we wanted to be.”

  “Rich? Successful? In demand the world over? Oh no,” Vanni sneered. “Nothing to like about any of that at all.”

  “There’s more to life than money,” Iain insisted in the same even voice. “And you know it.”

  “So this is about your little family life,” Vanni said as he hopped out of his chair and began to pace. “You’re going to leave us now, right as we’re getting started, to go play house?”

  Iain also stood. “I will do what I think is right for my family. I have a bigger priority now than Dreaming in Blue. I’m home,” he said as he pointed out the window toward London. “And that’s where I plan to stay.”

  Vanni grew even more agitated. “And what the hell are we supposed to do without you?”

  Leo stood. “Don’t even worry about it, man. I got someone lined up in Los Angeles, ready to roll. He’s a studio musician but I’ve worked with him before. He’s hardworking and doesn’t complain, especially about success.” Leo sent a contemptuous glare in Iain’s direction.

  Vanni didn’t care. He was totally focused on Iain. “So how long have you been planning this, brother,” he added for emphasis.

  “Since Philadelphia,” Iain answered honestly. “It was a wakeup call for me, even if it wasn’t for you. I joined DIB to make music, not dodge bullets.”

  The calm comment struck the bull’s eye. “Fuck you, man.” Vanni’s voice was low and angry. “You know that wasn’t my fault.”

  “Wasn’t it? How many times did you let that crazy woman near you, near the people you claim to love? All for what? Your precious ego?”

  Vanni smashed the bottle down on the ground and charged him. “Take that back!”

  Iain shoved him so hard he lost his tenuous balance and sprawled on the floor. “You can’t take back a bullet, brother. And it doesn’t matter how much you drink or how wasted you get, you can’t change the past. The band will survive my leaving. The real question is will it survive you?”

  Vanni struggled to his feet. “Get out,” he instructed, but Iain didn’t move. “I said get the fuck out! You want to leave, then go!”

  Leo stepped forward. “Dude, he’s gotta stay for the last show. We can’t replace him at this short notice.”

  Vanni’s mouth turned up in an evil smile. “We can replace him.” He glared around at everyone else in the room. “We can replace all of you. But you know who you can’t replace? Me. That’s right. I’m the star of Dreaming in Blue and everyone knows it. That’s why you want to leave,” he finished as he turned back to Iain, who merely shrugged.

  “Think what you want to think, mate. Replace us all. You can even try to replace Andy if you want.” That hit home. “But eventually you’re going to have to face your own demons before it’s too late.” Iain turned on his heel and headed toward the venue for a sound check.

  The other guys filed out silently behind him, while Leo lagged behind. “Eh, fuck him,” was his advice. “Only a stupid rat jumps from a ship that ain’t sinking. Trust me, by the time we get back home and you meet my guy you’ll see this has worked out for the best. You’re pulling these guys… you don’t need more dead weight.”

  Vanni nodded as he scoped the room for more alcohol. His trip to the floor brought him frighteningly close to being knocked sober, and he wasn’t ready for that yet. The only reason he had been able to get through the last six weeks was through the numbing fog of intoxication. Nothing scared him more than waking up and feeling these betrayals and this abandonment for real.

  He wasn’t a good boy so he was being left once again. The scenario was painfully familiar.

  Leo saw the need in his face so he reached behind his back for a flask of whiskey. “Here you go, man. Good for whatever ails you.”

  Vanni threw it back effortlessly. It felt good as it burned its way down his throat. He smiled at Leo. “Thanks, man. Sometimes I think you’re my only friend.”

  Leo patted him on the back. “I am. And don’t you forget it.”

  The concert that night was even worse than the others before. Vanni kept changing the song list by starting songs that the guys hadn’t played in years. In one instance he started a song they had never played at all, and ended up singing a cappella. The crowd ate it up. The rest of the band got even by playing “Let Her Go if You Can’t Treat Her Right,” the song they had written for Andy. Vanni seethed as he sang it through gritted teeth, which only added to the drama and intensity of the song.

  It was destined to be a viral video on the Internet by the time they sang their encore song.

  He didn’t even finish the encore. He tossed the microphone on the ground and stalked past the other members of the band before wading through the throng of groupies congregating backstage. He couldn’t get to his private dressing room fast enough. He needed to be alone, but apparently that wasn’t in the cards. Leo waited there with another congratulatory bottle of champagne.

  “I’d say the official close of your second tour was a success,” he toasted. “Now we can get back to L.A. and prep for number three.”

  Vanni’s throat closed up just thinking about it. Back in L.A., back near Graham, back near Andy – and everything he had been running from for six weeks. He didn’t know how he was going to pull it off.

  Leo just smiled as he motioned toward the second room attached to Vanni’s dressing area. It was a suite built for a star. “And to give you a little inspiration, I got you a gift.”

  Vanni was instantly suspicious. “What kind of gift?”

  “The other cure for what ails you. I’ll, uh, let myself out.”

  Vanni stumbled toward the bedroom part of the suite and found a voluptuous woman in lingerie sitting on the bed. From her hazel eyes to her generous hourglass figure, she was a carbon copy of Andy. So striking was the resemblance he thought for a moment it was her. “Andy?” he whispered as he drew closer for a better look.

  She shrugged. With an English accent she said, “I can be whoever you want me to be, love.”

  She stood and walked to him with sexy undulating hips his own Andy probably never knew she had mastered. His body sprang to life in spite of itself. It’d been so long since he held her, since he had held anybody. All the raw frustration bubbled up to the surface as his hands circled her waist and slid up her sides to her breasts. “That’s it baby,” she purred but the accent was all wrong… it just tore him out of the fantasy in which he now wanted – needed – to immerse himself.

  He shook his head as he led her toward the bed. “Don’t speak,” he commanded before he lifted her up and deci
sively planted her down on rumpled silk sheets.

  Obediently she kept silent but responded with professional ardor as he lost himself in her. Whether he was loving and passionate, or raw and angry and punishing, she kept up with him all night. There were no complaints that he called her by another name or thought of anyone else while he sank himself into her.

  By the time she left the following morning Vanni was strangely sated in a way the alcohol could never substitute. Sex was the ultimate high. Maybe Leo was right, he decided. He just needed to choose the right partners. His Andy doppelganger offered all the release with none of the entanglement. It was as smooth a transaction as he had ever conducted. There was no guilt, there were no lies. Sex was the drug but love was the trap. And Vanni was determined to forever more avoid it at any cost.

  Chapter Four

  August 13, 2010. Los Angeles.

  Andy

  For the first time in nearly two months Andy finally, and begrudgingly, left Graham’s side. At long last the doctor gave Graham the green light to go home to Los Angeles and she had to fly ahead in order to prepare the house. Maggie had had several weeks by then to settle into a routine with Graham, which on most days was contentious at best. She pushed him and he resisted, which made him fire her on a weekly basis. Andy wasn’t sure they could handle the couple of weeks it would take to get everything ready but Maggie just gave her that patient smile that reassured her he was in the hands of a consummate professional. He could scream and bellow and pout and moan, but Maggie wasn’t going anywhere until he was physically able to stand up, get out of his chair, walk over to where she stood and throw her out.

  Andy had been there the day she issued that particular ultimatum. She stared open-mouthed at the flame haired nurse with nerves of steel. Maggie had glared at Graham, hands on hips, defying him to literally stand out of nothing more than anger. Graham pursed his lips, grasped the handles of the chair and lifted himself up for the first time.