The time difference between Vancouver and Jersey had Jon awake much earlier than he wanted to be on a show day, but he resigned himself to it and threw back the covers to call for coffee. With that done, he checked his phone to see if anything interesting had happened on the east coast while he was sleeping.
He smiled just a little when he saw a message from
Chiara, who was no longer showing up as Bitch Lawyer.
[6:58 AM]CHIARA:
Little warning that I was going to be facing Lilah & Des this morning might
have been nice.
Grimacing, he kicked himself in the ass for that one –
and kicked Desiree in the ass for bringing Lilah. He
probably should’ve known that would happen when she responded to his text
identifying the worker with one of her own that said, “Oooh!” but he went with
optimism and hoped she would keep it to herself.
His fucking family loved getting involved, and the
apology and ensuing conversation that was going to come as a result were more
than he felt like texting. Tapping the
icon that would dial her, he put it on speaker and laid the phone on the bed
while stepping into his jeans from yesterday.
“Hello?”
“Mornin’, Counselor,” he greeted in a voice that would
carry while buttoning his fly.
“Hey. Did you call
to beg forgiveness?”
“No,” Jon laughed, scrubbing a palm over his bare chest
while the other hand scooped up the phone.
Sinking to the side of the bed, he took it off speaker to bring it to
his ear. “I did call to apologize,
though. Lilah wasn’t supposed to be
there, just Des.”
“Even so, it would’ve been helpful for me to mentally
prepare an explanation. I was expecting
some anonymous groundskeeper or something that wouldn’t consider my presence a
sign of the Apocalypse.”
How appropriate that he greeted the counselor this
morning, because that’s who was on the other end of this call – the very bitchy
Counselor Charlie. “I said I was sorry.”
“Yeah,” she sighed some of the bitch away and spoke more
softly. “You did. Thanks.”
There. Now he was
talking with the woman he had a date with on Monday instead of the one who
threw poison darts at his picture from behind her legal desk.
“So what happened?”
“They wanted to know why I was there, naturally. I told them I texted you a picture of my
kitchen wall – which I will do after we hang up, by the way – and it made you
decide you wanted a mural.”
“Sounds like you handled it perfectly. So why are you giving me hell?”
Her light laughter caused one side of his mouth to
lift. “Clearly, you’ve gotten used to
the softer side of me if you think this is giving you hell. Want me to remind you what it’s really like?”
“Only if we’re in the same room so I can take it to its
natural conclusion.” That innocent
sentence, offered in a growl that was anything but innocent, left the
woman on the other end of the line speechless.
Jon felt like the ruler of the world.
“Nothing to say to that?”
“Nothing you don’t already know.”
When was the last time he’d flirted with a woman from
thousands of miles away? Had he
ever? Even with Dorothea? If he did, Jon couldn’t remember it. The again, that was back in the days before
he walked around with a phone in his hand every hour of the day. Things were different and maybe even he was a
little different.
Ultimately, he would probably regret where this
flirtation ended – with a hard-on and no Chiara to suck it away – but it was a
novelty that he was enjoying. Jon wasn’t
going to stop now.
“You can’t
be sure about that. Tell me, anyway, just
in case.”
There was a moment’s hesitation in which he mentally
prodded her into saying, “I want you.”
The soft words made him hard enough to lean back and adjust
the fit of his fly. “Do you hate wanting
me?”
“Only because you’re too far away to do anything about it.”
It was a struggle deciding whether to take this further
or let it fade quietly away. He was
tempted to ask if she played with herself last night and thought of him. He was more tempted to ask her to do it now,
just to see if she would. If only he
didn’t have room service on the way…
“Careful, Counselor,” Jon lightly eased out of the
innuendo. “I’m starting to think you
like me a little.”
Her smile was evident when saying, “Funny. I’m starting to think the same thing. Have a good show tonight, okay? I’ll see you Monday.”
“Yeah. See you
then.”
As he disconnected the call Jon wondered if this is what
the future held for him. Whether with
Chiara or someone else, is this what it would be like having a girlfriend again
after thirty years? Teasing phone calls
to keep him going until he got home again?
Part of him wanted to know.
The other part thought he was a crazy son of a bitch.
J J
J J
J
The interviews were done.
The fan club gig was done. The
photo ops were done. The Q&A was
done. There was only one thing left on
his Vancouver agenda and that was to give the 7,500 fans the best performance he could
pull out of his guts.
Jon was in the dressing room before the show, drinking
hot tea and warming up his vocal cords when his phone lit up. Crossing to the table where it lay, he checked
the screen to find that his oldest son was calling, which was surprising on a
weekend.
“Hey, kid. College
life so dull that you’ve gotta call your father on Saturday night?”
“Ha ha, old man. This
is interfering with my kegger, but I’m calling to pull some strings.”
With a snort, he sat on the sofa arm with his tea, one
foot on the seat cushion and one on the floor.
“Don’t get caught, and who the hell do you know that wants something
from me? Another athletic booster
donation?”
He loved the Irish and loved that his kid played football
for them, so Jon had been generous with the donations thus far. They must have finally figured out he was a
dependable resource, but they would also need to understand he wasn’t the guy
who anybody – other than a divorce lawyer – was going to bleed dry.
“Nah. Easier than
that. Noah and Caleb have tickets to
your show tonight. They wanted to know
if they could stop by and say hi either before or after.”
It was a little strange that two college kids were coming
to see him perform, but he’d given up questioning his audience demographic long
ago. He was just grateful for the
diversity.
“Of course. Tell them
to hang around Lorenza’s side of the stage afterward. I’ll send Matt for them.”
Matt, who had spent half the day riding his ass over
Chiara’s appearance at High Point this morning.
Matt, who said he never knew “mural” was code for something dirty. Matt, who was wagering with Tony how long it
would be before Jon was hooking up with the lawyer again.
Matt who will also
get his ass fired if he gives me grief over this.
“Awesome. You’re
the best, Dad. Love you.”
“Love you, too, Jess.
Go easy on the beer, would ya?”
“As easy as you did at my age,” his son laughed and
disconnected the call.
That was exactly what Jon was afraid of.
Three hours later, he was sweaty but content with the way
things had finally shaken down. As these
kinds of shows tended to be, it was fun for Jon. They did a lot of nostalgic songs from the
days of his youth mixed in with the classic Bon Jovi offerings, keeping
everybody in the place happy. That was
as good as it got in this business.
Ever.
He ran a towel over sweat-drenched hair and chest, but
left the wet sleeveless tee on for now and slipped a jacket on over it. After Chiara’s kids came and went, he would
get out of here and back to the hotel for his shower.
“Jon.” Knocking
once loudly, his brother peeked around the door. When he stepped inside and closed it with his solemn bodyguard expression in place, Jon frowned.
“Where are Noah and Caleb?”
“In the hall,” Matt said somberly. “I wanted to give you a heads-up before they
come in. Their dad is with them.”
Ahh, fuck.
Meeting Chiara’s ex wasn’t on the list of things he ever
wanted to accomplish in this lifetime, but he would suck it up and deal. The man was also these boys’ father, and that
was the context in which he was meeting the guy. He would focus on that facet instead of
imagining him in bed with Chiara. Jon was
a grownup. He could do this.
“Appreciate it, man.”
He nodded his head gratefully. “It’s
fine.”
Matt silently returned the nod and opened the door. “All clear.
Come on in.”
Pasting on a wide smile, Jon stepped up to greet both
boys with a pat on the back and inane commentary about how he was surprised at the chance to see them again so soon.
“Yeah, we didn’t expect it either,” Noah laughed. “And I feel like an asshat that we didn’t
realize who you were until after vacation.”
Laughing, Jon assured the boy, “I’m not offended in the least. It’s good just being Jess’s dad.”
“Well, anyway. We
were telling Dad about it and he said how you were playing tonight, so here we
are. Oh, and Mr. Bongiovi, this is our
dad, Owen Foster.”
Reaching past the boys to extend a hand, Jon immediately
noted that these kids looked nothing like the guy they called “Dad”. These were Chiara’s kids, with her dark coloring
and Luke’s good looks. Their soft-around-the-edges
father, with his light eyes and thinning blond hair didn’t look like he
belonged anywhere in their family tree, and there would be no fear of picturing him in bed with
Chiara, either. She was way the fuck out
of his league.
“Hi, Owen. I’m
Jon.” It was one of those things that
was probably unnecessary, but he always felt like an idiot assuming people knew
who he was. “These are some great boys
you have. I’ve enjoyed getting to know
them.”
The return handshake was a little mushy, but Owen’s smile
and eyes were bright. “Yes, thank
you. It’s a pleasure to meet you. We have some mutual professional
acquaintances, but I’ve never had the privilege before now.”
“Oh, yeah?” He
asked curiously, stepping back and propping his hands on his hips. It didn’t
surprise him that Chiara had been married somebody in music, but it surprised
him that this guy was in music. “Which
acquaintances?”
The names he rattled off were a very vague blast from the
very distant past. People he hadn’t
talked to in years and years and whom he hadn't known well in the first place.
“I’m a professional studio drummer and do a bit of
dabbling in production.”
It took everything Jon had to bite back the unimpressed, “So?”
that was hovering on the tip of his tongue.
He only managed to do so by reminding himself that this was the boys’
father, and that insulting him insulted them.
“Nice,” he went with instead, dodging the gaze of a
smirking Matt who stood behind the group of visitors.
“Yes. That’s the
reason I couldn’t join my wife and sons on their recent Hamptons trip,” he
explained apologetically. “I’ve been
helping a friend get a new studio started not too far outside Vancouver. But I understand you were very hospitable to
my family while they were there. I know they appreciate it, and I can't tell you how much it means to me.”
Owen slapped his left hand onto Caleb’s shoulder and, for
the first time, Jon saw the plain gold wedding band. That visual paired with the overdone
appreciation on behalf of Owen’s “family” melded into an ugly picture that he
never dreamed of seeing.
I’m fucking a
married woman? I have a goddamn DATE
with a married woman! Who I almost had
phone sex with today. And her
motherfucking brother is ENCOURAGING it!
What the actual fuck?
He couldn’t look at Matt.
There was no doubt that his brother’s expression would mirror those thoughts or something similiar, and with his temper set to blow, Jon couldn’t keep his shit together if
he let his concentration waver for even a second.
“Yeah, well. Any
of my kids’ friends are always welcome to hang out with us – and bring their
families along. It was no big deal.”
“It was pretty awesome,” Caleb, who was always the quieter of
the two, piped up and turned to include Matt in his statement. “I hope I find some running buddies at
Stanford that can hang as well as you ‘old’ guys.”
“If not, come run with me in Jersey on Christmas
break. I’ll whip you into shape,” Matt offered
with a laugh, before doing exactly what Jon paid him to do – rescue him from an undesirable situation. “Jon, you’ve got that other appointment back at the
hotel. We need to get going.”
“Right.” He conjured up the most genuine smile possible under the circumstances and directed it to the counselor's sons. “Guys.
Take care and study hard, okay?”
Both of them agreed, offering further thanks as they began back-tracking toward the door. They had
almost reached it when their father interrupted.
“If we could just get a quick photo before we go, that
would be amazing,” he suggested congenially.
“I’m sure Charlie would love to have a snapshot of all her guys with a
rock star.”
Jon absently wondered what an aneurysm felt like. Because there was this weird throbbing in the
back of his head…
“Sure,” he agreed through gritted teeth. “Matt?”
Gathering up all the cell phones, his brother lifted the
first one into place while Jon positioned himself next to the two boys. Owen was on the other side of them and,
because both men had their arms on Noah and Caleb’s backs, Jon found his
fingertips brushing the other man's wedding ring.
He was going to have a fucking stroke before this guy got
out of here, but if he lived through it…
Well, he and Charlie were going to have a fight that made the others look like
a series of goddamn tea parties.
“Smile.”
Motherfucking Cujo
bitch.
OMG !!!!; I think today I can not say that I envy Chiara, I think her date with Jon is going to be hellish !!
ReplyDeleteI wouldn't want to be her right now.😬
ReplyDeleteSo I guess their date on Monday is off?
ReplyDeleteOh boy is Charlie going to get an earful.
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ReplyDeleteOmg i need more you cant leave me there
ReplyDeleteOH LOURD!!!
ReplyDeleteIT BAD TO WISH MY LIFE AWAY BUT IS IT POSTING DAY YET???
Please, PLEASE tell me there will be another post today. WITH the confrontation! Pretty please?!
ReplyDeleteMy productivity is down because I can't concentrate on the contracts I'm supposed to be writing... I keep thinking about the different ways he could take to blow her cover. Please put me out of my misery.
Maybe consider it an act of Mercy.... by helping me keep my job.
Please?
Honestly, I haven't even given the next chapter a read through. It might not even have what you're looking for, because I tend to be a little sadistic that way. I just finished writing a new one, so I guess I could go take a look and see, though. ;)
DeleteOh, you are evil!
DeleteOn the bright side, I'll have more time to read in the unemployment line.
And I'd have more time to write. lol.
DeleteBTW: I have never begged for a new post. Ever. Out of the hundreds of fanfics I've read. Preferring to let the author do their thing, in their own time, to get the best story. You, my friend, have turned me into an inpatient JBJ read-aholic. (thank you very much).
ReplyDeleteI could possibly be just a bit over-invested in your stories. But, please don't ever stop... Your writing is exceptional!