Wednesday, September 6, 2017

8:Sizzle

It was a group effort aimed at taking Charlie down a peg or two.  She was convinced of it.  Her entire freaking family was out to humiliate her with this man, and she was going to kill them all. 

One by one. 

Painfully.

The only bright spot that she could find in the situation was that Jon’s face held the same horror that she had felt when turning to discover who was standing behind her. 

“Charlie Del Vecchio?” he asked flatly, and his previously sparkling blue eyes now glittered coldly, like oceanic chips of ice. 

Yeah, this man has called me names I don’t even want to know about.

That was okay, though.  She could take it as well as she could dish it out and Charlie boldly lifted her chin in preparation for whatever he had to say. “That’s right.”

“Oh,” her bone-headed brother observed with interest.  “You two know each other, then?”

The brilliant smile Jon had initially greeted her with was nowhere in sight when he bitterly clarified, “Not personally, and I’d just as soon keep it that way.  Luke, it was nice meeting you, but I just remembered there’s someone I need to go find.  Take care, man.”

Pivoting on his heel, he deposited his empty wineglass on passing server’s tray and strode deliberately toward the event hall’s ballroom.  The set of his shoulders matched Charlie’s for rigidity, and she would bet he was almost as pissed as she was right now.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she hissed when he was out of earshot.  The only thing saving Luke from a right hook in the gut was the fact that they were in a very public place, surrounded by people who would be appalled by such an action.  Charlie had suffered enough embarrassment for one night.

Clueless about his faux pas, her unruffled brother lifted one casual shoulder.  “I don’t see the big deal.  He asked for an introduction and I gave him one.  How was I supposed to know you already knew each other?”

She nearly choked on the half of a martini that she had just downed in one swallow.  Public place be damned.  She was going to take the tie she’d bought him and tighten it until his face was as many shades of blue as the mottled silk fabric. 

“You are a fucking moron, Luca Del Vecchio.  How could you possibly not know that I represented his wife in their divorce?  It’s all Vivi’s talked about the last two family dinners!”

She and her brothers’ families gathered once a month for dinner in the Brooklyn home where they’d all grown up and where their parents still lived.  Occasionally, some extended family members joined them, too, but Charlie and her siblings were there without fail.  The standing rule in the Del Vecchio house was that unless you were incarcerated, dead or newly amputated, your ass was sitting in a chair around the dining room table on the last Sunday of the month. 

“Really?  You think I listen to half the shit Vivi yaps about?  I drink at family dinners so I can drown out her hyper babble.”

“Well, let me give you the rundown then, Captain Oblivious,” she snapped, poking a finger into his chest.  “I ran that man into the ground every chance I got and asked for more than even his wife wanted until I royally pissed him off.  Then our darling sister-in-law tried to drop my name to get into some exclusive performance of his, jerking with my ethical and professional reputation. His brother practically laughed in her face, of course, and it cost me a case of wine plus two-hundred and fifty bucks to save face.”

It had taken her two days to admit that she needed to send an apology gift that explained she wasn’t the one who had been begging for favors on a loose – and unfriendly – acquaintance.  What Vivi had done made Charlie look both unprincipled and unethical which were two words that she didn’t want attached to her professional reputation.  She’d finally come to the conclusion that, if Jon Bon Jovi was going to talk trash about her, it should be for something she’d actually done instead of Vivi’s stupidity.

So she’d grudgingly made the donation and sent the wine, hoping that would be the end of it.

“Not only that,” Charlie continued heatedly, “She managed to get into that damn show anyway, and told the man in front of hundreds of people that I’m too uptight.  I would have rather been introduced to anybody else in the world tonight, and he undoubtedly felt the same.  You might’ve guessed that if you ever paid attention to your freaking family!”

“You need to take it out of bitch mode, little sister,” was Luke’s terse advice as she downed the remainder of her martini.  “I’ve worked at your place every free minute for almost three months now, and I agreed to come to this stupid thing because you asked.  I’m always looking out for you, so don’t rip me a new ass because I ignore Vivi and thought you might like to meet a guy who, by all appearances, has a set of balls and a work ethic.  I was hoping it might inspire you.”

Charlie closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.  He was right.  If it had been any other handsome man, she would’ve been delighted by the way his palm sizzled against hers.  She would have been flattered that he requested an introduction.  She would’ve appreciated her brother’s attempt to make her appear more refined and elegant by using her given name.

But it wasn’t any other handsome man, it was Jon freaking Bon Jovi, and she didn’t want to have that kind of physical reaction to him.  He was never home, he was a workaholic who didn’t devote enough attention to his family, he left his dirty clothes in the floor, he took cheap shots during arguments and he smoked to relieve stress – all according to his ex-wife. 

She knew enough of his negative qualities to make her certain that she wanted nothing to do with the man, no matter how much his touch flustered her.  Besides that, he was a musician, and she’d already met enough musicians to last her a lifetime.

Still, her brother’s intentions had been good.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie relented, leaning in to kiss his cheek.  “It was an ugly case and I’ve been feeling a little guilty about it.  Having to look him in the eye didn’t help.”

“Well, don’t jump my ass because you screwed him over.”

She exhaled softly in response to his displeasure and laid a hand on his arm.  “I said I was sorry.  What else do you want from me?”

“Your first born son,” he replied without hesitation and then grinned.  “He’s a helluva worker.”

Luke had forgiven her, exactly as she expected him to.  He was always the most laid back of the Del Vecchio clan, and most often the peacekeeper in a household filled with fiery Italian tempers.  That’s why he was everybody’s favorite brother. 

“No deal.  I’m going to need him to support me in my old age, so how about you and Syd come to the Hamptons with us instead?”

Brown eyes that were the same shade of dark chocolate as her own expanded with interest.  “Hamptons?”

Between work on the brownstone and his own summer work schedule, Charlie knew he hadn’t seen much of his college-aged daughter lately.  Sydney went to NYU, had a job, an apartment in East Village and her own busy life.  However, Charlie well remembered that a struggling student’s budget didn’t include vacations.  It would be nice to give this to her brother and niece.   

“Caleb swindled me into it for his birthday,” she confirmed.  “We’re leaving on the eighth and the place I’ve rented for the week has four bedrooms.  Why don’t you guys join us?”

He scratched at the scruff on his jaw with feigned indecision.  “Well, gee…  I dunno….”

“It’s only a mile from the beach,” she threw in unnecessarily.  He was already going to say yes, but since he loved sand and the ocean – and she was making amends – it didn’t hurt to mention it.

“Apology accepted.”  His face creased with a sly grin and, taking the empty glass from her hand, he deposited it with his on the nearest empty serving tray.  “Want another drink?”

His obvious intent to hang around was a surprise since he hadn’t wanted to come here in the first place. 

“I was planning on leaving.  You actually want to stay?”

“Hell, yes,” he confirmed, putting a guiding hand in the center of her back and steering her to the open archway that led to the ballroom.  “Jon asked for my number, and I’m not going to miss out on a Giants game because you’re on his shit list.”

Football was a fondness for the entire family, but Charlie still rolled her eyes as her high heeled sandals tapped across the floor.  “Fine.  My social status isn’t elevated enough to put us at his table, so why not?”

She was right.  They weren’t at his table but the table next to him, and her name placard was at the seat that backed up to Jon’s.   If she were a fan that wanted to be in the same zip code as the man, she’d be lucky to get into the damn venue, but her luck brought her the opportunity to bump shoulders with him if they both rose at the same time.

Not happening.

She could still feel the after-effects of that handshake so, to avoid the possibility of any further physical contact, she performed a quick switch of name cards with the couple on the far side of the table.  It left her in a spot to do nothing more than view the back of his head when he sat, and that was perfect for Charlie. 

She was committed to keeping her distance from him so that she could enjoy the rest of the evening.

The problem was that he didn’t sit sedately in his seat.  He worked the room like the professional that he was, laughing and talking with Michael Strahan and Mario Batali, sitting and chatting with Michael J. Fox, and exchanging air kisses with honoree Sandra Lee.  
Charlie wasn’t seeking him out or paying attention, though.  Really.  It just seemed that wherever she was, he was socializing with someone no more than a dozen feet away.  The compression of his smile whenever he caught sight of her visibly affirmed that it wasn’t intentional.  He didn’t want to be in her orbit any more than she wanted him to be there, but the people around them simply had different ideas and she finally resorted to excusing herself to the ladies’ room for an escape.

“I swear that man gets better looking the older he gets.  How is that fair?” sighed a brunette blotting her face in the powder room mirror.  She looked to be only marginally older than Charlie’s forty-four years but with the wonders of cosmetics, she might be nearing sixty. 

Charlie didn’t know the woman, but as she finished touching up her lipstick, she realized that they were the only two at the mirror.  “I’m sorry. What man?”

“Jon Bon Jovi, of course.”  With the cluck of her tongue, she ran a pinky beneath her eye to erase an invisible smudge.  “And you’d think with all that looks, money and fame, he’d be an arrogant narcissist, but he’s just the kindest man, willing to put an arm around anyone who asks for a photo.  Not to mention all that charitable work.  I can’t imagine why his wife would divorce him.”

You want that list alphabetized or in order of importance?

“People aren’t always what they seem to be,” Charlie offered vaguely, fastening the closure on her small evening bag.

“Oh, but he is,” the other woman vowed.  “Everyone I know who’s met him says the same thing – he’s just a genuinely nice, down to earth man.  I’ve personally seen him stop and have a conversation with a homeless person, treating them with the same respect he would the President.  He’s truly remarkable.”

Being a decent human being carries sainthood status?  Seriously, lady?

Revealing her true thoughts on the matter was pointless, however, so Charlie merely turned on her heel to leave and demurred, “I’m sure he is.  Have a nice night.”

Hundreds of other people in New York did the same thing, she thought with righteous indignation when pulling the door open.  Just because he was wealthy and showed some common decency, he was Jesus Christ himself?  That attitude about celebrities annoyed Charlie and she stalked away from the ladies’ room with her nose figuratively out of joint.

When she turned the corner to enter the ballroom, her nose almost became physically out of joint when colliding with another person.  The unanticipated contact brought with it a jolt of electricity, and male hands that were like vices of fire clutched her waist to keep Charlie upright.  When she brought her palms to the lapels of his black suit jacket to steady herself, additional twin jolts had the length of her arms humming.

Her body knew before her brain that, when she lifted her face to apologize, it would be a pair of brilliant blue eyes that greeted her.  Brilliantly cold blue eyes.

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath.

3 comments:

  1. I am enjoying this story. But even more so right now because I was at this particular Can Do Awards dinner - and the thought of all of this possibly going on is so funny to me. Of course, in reality, Dot was right there - but it is very entertaining. As for Charlie, she definitely needs to learn a few things about life and it would appear she is about to! Fun stuff!

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  2. Carol I'm pretty sure your trying to kill me lol but I loved this chapter

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  3. I love this chapter ... I can not wait to see what Charlie will do when he sees how wrong he was about Jon and how they are going to handle his reaction to the other ...

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