He had been raised on a farm with seven siblings in a hardworking Baptist family. Shockingly, when he had come out to them at age fifteen, they barely batted an eye.
“Actually, my mother said – and I quote ‘that’s nice, dear. Pass the potatoes please.’ I went on tell her I meant ‘homosexual’ and not ‘happy’ because I thought she misunderstood. Turns out, I wasn’t really good at keeping it a secret to begin with. I think they figured it out before I did.” Annika was moved by the rendition. I have no idea what it’s like to have a family like that. It didn’t inspire jealousy in the least as she always figured she couldn’t miss something you never had in the first place. However, she did find Dickie’s relationship with his family very endearing.
“So what about you, Fire Crotch? What’s your family like? How did you end up so fucked up?”
Annika smiled enigmatically.
“The usual – overbearing father and a pill popping mother. It’s a boring story and not fun drinking conversation.”
Dickie arched a thick eyebrow at her response. It was not what he was expecting but she was cutting him off as he opened his mouth to speak.
“I have a drinking game. It’s called ‘My Ex is a Douchebag’ and this is how you play.” With that, she wiped her arm over the back of the sofa table and sent the frames clattering to the floor in a pile of broken glass shards. Momentarily stunned, he stared at her and then looked down at the pictures of his former partner strewn upon the floor. Then he smiled slowly and raised his glass to his lips.
“I like this game,” he crackled.
Chapter Three: Cupid
Life is good, Annika thought. She still had her gig at The Pocket Watch and the popularity she had achieved there had opened doors to other shows in the downtown core. Money was flowing in steadily and she was getting her name out there. Dickie was proving to be an incredible roommate and the best confidant she had ever had. She had even cut back on her drinking and completely cut out pot and Molly. She felt healthy, happy and for the first time since she could remember, secure.
That evening, she took special pains getting ready for her performance at The Pocket Watch. She wanted to look as amazing as she was feeling. She slipped into her sexiest, shortest black dress, fish net stockings and those six inch stilettos. She had purchased them last fall but never worn them. She had always justified not christening the shoes as never having a decent place to go but in truth, she was always terrified she would get too drunk and fall to her death wearing such treacherous footwear. She carefully applied her makeup, skillfully choosing dark, dramatic colors to accent her porcelain skin, sensational waist length hair and trance-inducing blue eyes. She looked incredible and as she took one final look at herself in the mirror, she wistfully wondered if she was ever going to find anyone to want her for more than just the near perfect reflection at which she was staring. Who needs a man? You have Dickie.
Annika’s performance that night surpassed anything Vern and Dickie had ever heard from her. The naked torment in her pitch seemed to have been replaced by something more hopeful, resulting in a clearer, more radiant sound. The Pocket Watch was full past capacity and the majority of the patrons there only for Annika’s trademark vocals. Dickie had to fight through a throng of admirers to get to her side.
“You’ve outdone yourself this time, Fire Crotch. Look at this place!”
Annika beamed and gave him an affectionate hug.
“Thank you, Dickie. I love you.” Embarrassed, Dickie quickly stepped back.
“Hey, I don’t have anything to do with this. You earned it all by yourself.” She scowled and punched him in the shoulder.
“You suck at pretending to be modest,” she teased.
“He’s right, Annika. You have earned this but you deserve so much more.” They both turned to face the speaker. A tall, muscular man in his late fifties stood slightly too close behind Annika with a wry, half smile. Annika felt an instant attraction to the stranger, which surprised her. She rarely took to random interlopers. Yet this man had an incredible charisma to which she was drawn, almost like their spirits were old friends from another dimension or life. Dickie felt his lips tighten as prickles slithered down his spine. The man was unduly attractive in the usual Hollywood fashion. There were gentle jet black curls, laced with virgin white strands teasing the top of his suit jacket, defined cheekbones, an aquiline nose and a dimple in his chin. His voice was as deep and rich as he appeared to be.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” Dickie snapped. “Oh right, that’s because we were in the middle of a conversation not pertaining to you.” The man completely blinked once at Dickie and then completely disregarded him. He turned to Annika, his back physically blocking Dickie from Annika’s eye level.
“Annika, my name is Rhys Anders. I am a scouting agent for ABC Music. Have you heard of the label?” Annika and Dickie both froze as he produced a card.
“Oh my G – wow, that’s great! Great to meet you, Mr. Andrews! I’m Annika Van Houten. Oh wait you already knew that. Sorry!” Annika babbled. Stop talking! Stop talking! Dickie snatched the card out of her hands and peered at it, suspiciously.
“It’s Anders but please, call me Rhys. Could we go outside and talk privately?”
Annika nodded eagerly, not trusting her voice and allowed Rhys Anders to take her hand. Dickie scowled after her, but softened his face when he saw how aglow was Annika’s. She deserves this, he told himself. Still, the guy seems like a giant turd. I have every right to be cautious of weirdos bearing business cards. Someone needs to look out for that girl. She’s naïve. He looked back at the card for any signs of fraud. Suddenly he stopped as a strange thought occurred to him. Oh dear lord – am I jealous?
Outside, Rhys and Annika sat at a wrought iron patio table. Annika was girlishly pleased that he held the chair for her to sit before seating himself. He smiled warmly at her and her heart jumped. He has a dimple on his cheek too!
“Annika, this is the third time I’ve come out to hear you sing. I’m sure you get sick of people telling you that you have a sensational voice. Not to mention that you are absolutely gorgeous.”
“I never get tired of compliments,” Annika joked and then blushed crimson. Now you sound conceited. Rhys just smiled more broadly.
“Well, I would prepare myself to hear many, many, many more. Because when you sell your first platinum record, that’s all you’re going to hear.” Annika felt lightheaded. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?
“Would you consider signing with me? We can discuss the details now if you like, but I think it would be better if we sit down in a less busy environment – “
“Yes! Yes, I will sign! Where?”
Rhys laughed again.
“Why don’t we have dinner tomorrow night and discuss the semantics. I’ll bring the contract and we can go over it so you understand all the terms and conditions.”
Rhys stood up and offered Annika his hand. She accepted it and as she rose to her feet, the heel of her shoes got caught in a crack of the cobblestone patio. She braced herself for another humiliating fall. But this time, Rhys caught her by the waist as if she weighed a feather and he steadied her without skipping a beat. Annika looked up at him with naked adoration. I think I’ve found my knight in shining armor. Dickie had trailed after them onto the veranda and as he watched the exchange from the shadows, he had an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“You look beautiful, Annie,” Dickie said begrudgingly. “Just be careful.” Annika laughed in response.
“You worry about me better than anyone ever did. Are you sure you’re a hundred percent queer?” But Dickie did not return her smile. He watched as she applied a burgundy lipstick to her full lips, making her pale skin seem almost iridescent. She was wearing a sleeveless silk blouse with a plunging V-neck in almost exactly the same color as her gloss which showed off her perky, B-cups. Her skin tight leather pants highlighted a surprisingly large and firm buttocks to on such a slight wai
st.
“I mean it, Annika. There’s something about that guy that doesn’t sit right with me. Just use that pretty little head of yours and trust your gut.” She paused and regarded him through the mirror. As far as she could remember, he had never used her proper name. It was always “Annie”, “bitch” or “fire crotch.” He really believes he’s right about Rhys. But he’s not. I know men. He’s just as incredible as he seems. I can tell.
“It’s just a business meeting, you over-protective grandpa. He hasn’t proposed…yet.” She laughed jovially and spun on her heel to rush out the door. She was going to be late for the most important night of her life.
“I’ve never dressed like that to any business meeting I’ve ever been to!” Dickie yelled after her as she tore down the stairs at breakneck speed.
“That’s because you don’t have my ass!” Annika shot back as she slammed the front door but not before she stumbled on the carpet runner in the hallway.
“Clumsy bitch,” Dickie mumbled affectionately.
The restaurant was packed with a waiting list over an hour long for people vying to dine there. The horde all seemed to be ablaze in emeralds and Rolexes and there were myriad luxury cars spilling out of the parking lot. It seemed to Annika that the entire crowd paused to gasp as the Mercedes limo drew up to the establishment and pulled to a stop in the valet. Shallot was a five-star steak house that Annika would never have dreamed of ever dining within. A celebrity chef owned and personally ran the day to day operations of the place. I’m underdressed! Annika thought horrified as she took in the finely dressed men and women in her midst. She also realized that even if she had known where they were dining, she didn’t own one item of clothing that would be worthy to be seen within those walls. However, Rhys didn’t seem to notice as he took her arm and gently steered her through the entrance way. In fact, he gave her an appreciative smile as he subtly looked her up and down, making Annika turn as red as the poppies lining the planters at the valet. The maître d’ ushered them to a table upon Rhys announcing himself. Annika noticed he smiled charmingly and greeted people as they walked past various groups. He knows everyone here! And they know him! She was so nervous; she was afraid she would wet herself.
Once they were seated in a dim corner away, from the center of the hub, she wiped her damp palms on her pants and looked around. She could feel Rhys watching her, bemused but she was too anxious to look him in the eye. What am I doing here? I don’t belong here. I am a nobody.
“Are you all right?” Rhys asked her, gently covering her hands with his. Annika suddenly felt faint. Get it together! You can do this! She forced a smile and nodded. He smiled knowingly at her awed expression.
“Trust me, these people are all flash, no substance. They only look impressive.” Annika felt herself relaxing in spite of herself. How could he have known what she was feeling? Rhys gestured at the menus.
“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those women who only eats rabbit food. I do hate eating steak alone.” Annika shook her head vigorously. Even if she had been a devout vegan, she would have eaten an entire cow that night for Rhys.
“Good! Let’s order.”
The night had been a blur from there. Rhys had ordered bottle of Dom Perignon after bottle and before Annika knew what was happening, she had signed some papers and was giggling, drunk as a Naval Officer on leave and in the back of the limousine with Rhys.
When she thought back on the events later on, she was sure that he had been grimacing throughout the evening but she had been far too inebriated to remember specifics. They had gone from the restaurant back to Dickie’s place, Annika stripping off her clothes as she tripped up the walkway, kissing Rhys’ neck and face, sloppily. At some moment, Dickie had walked in on them in the living room as Rhys had her bent over the sofa but all Annika really recalled about that was Dickie screaming at them red-faced, “Shut the fuck up!”
It was all so hazy, in fact, that when Annika woke the following morning in her bed, wearing flannel pajamas, she momentarily thought she had dreamt the entire night. That is, until she realized she was still drunk. Fuck! What did I do? She pulled herself out of bed and stumbled down the stairs into the kitchen. Dickie was sitting at the kitchen island drinking a coffee. There was fire in his ice blue eyes as he gave her a scornful once over.
“So how did your business meeting go?” he asked sarcastically as she entered. Annika shook her head, trying to remember.
“Did you put these on me?” she asked, gesturing at the plaid nightwear. Dickie grunted and nodded like he didn’t want to be reminded.
“I did. And I hope you put something on him but gauging by the looks of things last night, I have a feeling there was lots of love without a glove.”
Annika’s face burned with shame. Then the humiliation slowly slipped away as she recalled something. She flashed a dazzling white smile at him.
“He signed me!” she exclaimed. “I have a record deal at ABC!”
Dickie looked dubious.
“Oh really? Let me see the contract.” Annika paused. The intoxication was fading and she was beginning to feel the tickling of a hangover. A headache was teasing the back of her neck. Had she received a copy of the contract? Of course she must have. Had she lost it or left it somewhere? She would have to call Rhys later and find out if he had picked up her copy. She refused to let Dickie’s miserable mood ruin her happiness.
“You’re such a cynic. It’s legit!” Dickie said nothing but poured a separate cup of coffee and slid it to her down the island.
“Drink this. There’s Advil in the cupboard over the stove. And by the way, if you ever pull that shit in my house again, you can find another place to live.” With that, he quietly left the room with Annika staring after him, open mouthed.
“You are amazing,” Annika murmured as she ran her fingers through Rhys’ thick curls. “You fuck like a wild animal. Maybe a hyena?” Rhys laughed and slapped her butt. They were at the Four Seasons having an afternoon romp between the sheets. Rhys claimed that he was on the move so much that he had never bothered to commit to an apartment. He used Airbnb when he had extended trips but this round, he knew he was only in the city for a short time before heading out to Europe for an unknown period. He had decided to make the best of it by renting expensive suites or so he said. The company had him on an expense account after all. But Annika got the sense that he was actually quite lonely. Well, he used to be lonely. Now he has me.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he leaned over the side of the bed and began to fiddle around at floor level. He didn’t immediately respond so Annika used the opportunity to ask him what had been on her mind. “Listen, before I forget, will you please try to remember to email me that contract today? I hate to be a pain but I’d like to look it over. Maybe frame it.” She laughed.
“Sure, babe,” Rhys replied.
A second later, he popped up, his eyes alit with mischief.
“I have a treat for us,” he said. Annika giggled.
“I don’t know how much more spoiling I can take,” she teased, sitting up and pulling the sheet around her naked body. He opened his hand and he was holding two green pills. Annika’s sweet smile faded slightly. They were Oxy. Once upon a time, she wouldn’t have hesitated but things had been going so smoothly. Oxy could lead on such a downward spiral so fast…she had been down that road and she had not enjoyed the scenery.
“Have you had these before?” Rhys asked. She hesitated.
“Yeah.” He grinned boyishly at him and as usual, Annika was smitten by that gorgeous smile.
“You know you wanna…” he sang to her. He put one in her hand and gave her a glass of wine with which to wash it down. Annika pushed her fears out of her head and downed the pill. It’s a one-time thing – a celebration. It won’t lead to anything…
Chapter Four: You Know I’m No Good
The weeks had begun to whiz past without any definition or milestones. When Annika tried to recall this particular poi
nt in her life, she found it incredibly difficult to account for the months after Rhys entered her life. She was constantly being whisked off to a party or a club or some other place where the people were frilly, pretentious and loud but as far as she could remember, nothing of substance ever materialized from these encounters. Except liquor and lots of drugs.
There were bottles of champagne, shots of tequila, dozens of Oxy pills and Molly at every outing. Annika was stoned from the moment she woke until she passed out from excessive use of intoxicants every evening. She rose from restless sleeps feeling anxious and sweaty until she popped another pill. The days and nights blurred together and all Annika knew for certain was that she was completely enraptured with Rhys. She saw him every night and their sex life had reached peaks she had only seen in porn films. The only aspect which was beginning to trouble her was Dickie. It seemed like he was constantly on her case whenever she saw him.
“You need to slow down, Annie,” he told her one day as she fell into the house. She had been gone for four days without so much as a text to let him know she was alive. “You missed your show at The Pocket Watch on Friday.” Annika blinked at him confused.
“Tomorrow is Friday,” she told him, uncomprehendingly. He stared at her, his expressive blue eyes naked with worry.
“Tomorrow is Monday,” he replied quietly. Her rosebud lips parted in surprise but no words came out. He was shocked to realize just how thin she had gotten in such a short time frame. Her fire laden eyes seemed to have lost their spark lately. There were dark, puffy circles around them and she seemed older but less wise. Dickie had gently led her to the couch and laid her down. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.” He would be up extra early to make her a huge, fat filled breakfast. She was beginning to take on the appearance of a person suffering from a terminal illness.
Yet, when Dickie came downstairs the following dawn, he had found that Annika had slunk off in the night. She knew he was worried about her but he had nothing to worry about. I’m in love and I’m going to be a star! Yet even in her highest moments, she couldn’t help but feel an umbra of doubt. Since their first date, Rhys had not mentioned her contract again. Any mention of a recording session was quickly dismissed. Rhys’ constant reassurance was “these things take time, baby.” Of course she trusted him. He adored her. She could tell by the way he looked at her, his eyes aglow.
Romance: The Bad Boy Affair: A Second Chance Romance Page 8
