by Ann Lister
“I'm awake,” he slurred.
“I really think you need a girlfriend or a hobby to keep your mind occupied,” Sydney said, and turned back to her computer screen.
“Finding a woman is easy, Syd. Finding a girlfriend is a whole different story.”
Sydney laughed. “Are you expecting me to believe you can't find a girlfriend? I've seen the constant parade of girls that march past you every day. Certainly there's got to be one out of the bunch that interests you.”
“I don't have a girlfriend - by choice, Syd. I can't seem to find the type of girl I'm looking for, and I refuse to waste another minute on anything less. Been there, done that, as they say. I'm ready for something different.”
“What would different be to you?” she asked.
“Do you really want to know or are you being sarcastic?”
“I'm actually curious to hear what someone like you wants in a woman.”
Ben rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands.
“I want a woman with a brain,” he said. “Someone that can turn me on with her mind, as well as, her mouth. Telling me you can tie a cherry stem with your tongue doesn't impress me. However, show me you can carry on a conversation that holds my interest for more than five minutes - - now, that would charm the pants off my ass.”
“Is it really possible to tie a cherry stem with a tongue?”
“I've seen it done many times. It might have held some fascination when I was in my twenties, but not now. I'm beyond that. I want someone with a little substance and stability.”
“With all due respect, Ben, if that's what you're really looking for, I sincerely doubt you're going to find those qualities in a woman you meet at a strip club.”
“You're right about that,” he said. “Not much going on at a strip club in terms of stimulating dialog - lots of silicone though. It's everywhere you look. Did I mention I hate fake tits?” he asked, facing her again.
“No, you hadn't mentioned that,” she said.
“There is nothing better, than a couple of soft, warm pillows to rest your face between. You know, like bookends for your cheeks,” he said, squishing his hands against his face.
“Ben!”
He raised himself up on one elbow and looked at her. “From what I can tell, you've got nice tits and they're real, too, although you do a damn good job of hiding them.”
“Ben…can we talk about something else besides breasts?”
He smiled and dropped flat against the quilt again and folded his hands on his stomach.
“You make me laugh, Syd, and that's something else I'm looking for. I want someone that's willing to do the work of knowing my soul and appreciating what they find when they get there. Someone willing to let me know them - all of them, not just the good stuff. Everyone seems to be in a big hurry to get to the physical release, but sometimes a mental release feels just as good. Does that make any sense to you? Good mental foreplay can be just as sweet.”
Sydney listened to his rambling words intently. He was beginning to reveal the real man beneath his skin and Sydney liked what she saw. He was much deeper than she thought and more complex. He genuinely seemed to want a real relationship and not a fling, which might explain why she hadn't seen him with any women.
“I want someone to fuck me with their brain first, and then I'll be happy to fuck…”
“Ben! Don't ruin the beautiful things you just said with words like that.”
Ben chuckled again. “See what I mean, Syd? You challenge me. You make me want to be a better person.” He rolled onto his side and faced her. “What are you looking for, Syd?”
“I'm not looking.”
“Do you already have someone?” he asked.
“No, I'm not with anyone.”
“I find that hard to believe. I'd imagine someone as beautiful as you would have several guys stashed in the wings, always at the ready.”
“No time. I'm always working.”
“Don't use your job as an excuse. You'd find a way to make the time, if you were really interested.”
Sydney kept working on her computer. “Then, I guess I'm not interested enough to make the time.”
“It's too bad you're not looking, because I think we'd be really great together.”
“And, what makes you think that?”
“Gut instinct. I get a vibe from you, Syd - although you do your best to pretend it isn't there. I can still feel it.”
“You're delusional and drunk.”
“I might be a little drunk but I'm not delusional,” he said. “There isn't a guy on my road crew that doesn't think you're gorgeous. They would all give a kidney to get you into bed - myself included. Everything about you is sexy - even your name: Sydney Willows. I love the way it rolls off my tongue. I should write a song about you.”
“Ben, will you be serious!”
“I am being serious! You have no idea the power you have. You walk into a room and every guy stops breathing. And what makes you even more appealing, is you seem completely unaware of it.”
“You're crazy,” she said.
The pressure of him being in the same room was starting to get to her. His words were intimate, perhaps too intimate. She wondered if he was being sincere, if the alcohol in his system was making him speak the truth, or helping him to fabricate it.
“I'm crazy about you, that much I know.”
“Ben…please.”
“Why is it every time I try and get close to you, I feel you pushing me away? What are you afraid of, Syd?”
“I think we need to change the subject or you'll have to leave.”
“Kiss me,” he blurted.
Sydney stiffened in her chair. “I'm not kissing you!”
“Kiss me and you'll see what I mean. There'll be fireworks, Sydney - lots of them, and the heat is going to melt your bones.”
“You certainly don't lack confidence in your skills.”
Ben bent his legs at the knee and set his feet on the bed, his thighs separating slightly. “This has nothing to do with me or my capabilities, Syd. This is about the pheromones bouncing between us. It's pretty basic stuff, but it's very powerful.”
She turned her head to him. His forearm covered his face again and his breathing slowed and deepened.
“Ben. Wake up.”
His body jolted slightly on the bed at the sound of her voice.
“For all the right reasons,” he said.
“You're not making any sense.”
“I want to be with you - for all the right reasons.”
“And what reasons would those be?” she asked.
“I already told you: loyalty, stability and a good healthy dose of lust. I'm not interested in a fifteen minute orgasm - I can give that to myself. I'm looking for the real deal, Syd, a relationship that has a future with someone that wants to wake up beside me every day.”
“Sounds like marriage to me,” she said quietly.
“I'd love to get married someday and have a few kids, but I have to find the right girl first. In a few years I'll be forty. I thought by now I'd already be happily committed to the woman of my dreams, but I'm still looking for her.”
Ben exhaled loudly and hung his arms over the edge of the bed. “If you ever decide you are looking, Syd…I hope you'll let me know. I would love to take the time to get to know you better.”
“I bet.”
“That wasn't meant to sound sexual,” he said.
“Everything you say sounds sexual.”
Ben chuckled. “Sometimes I do intentionally say things so you'll blush. Its very sexy, but what I said a minute ago wasn't meant to sound sexual. I really would love to know you better and, if it happens to turn sexual…that would be great, too.”
“You did it again!”
“I'm sorry,” he smiled. “But, not real sorry.”
Sydney filled her computer screen with another image of Ben's band. She adjusted the color and cropped out a stack of amplifiers in the shot, then realize
d how quiet Ben had become. She turned around in her chair and called his name. He had finally fallen asleep with his hands folded across his stomach, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed again, his lips curled into a faint smile. This time, Sydney couldn't wake him.
She pulled a list of contact phone numbers from her file and called Ben's body guard.
“I know it's really late, Mike, but I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“Ben came to my room a few hours ago pretty drunk and now he's fallen asleep and I can't wake him. Can you come get him? I really need to get some sleep.”
“Say no more. I'm on my way.”
“I'm in room 302.”
“Give me five minutes,” Mike said.
A few minutes later, Mike arrived at Sydney's door.
“I was wondering where he was hiding, Syd. I hope he didn't do anything to embarrass himself or that he needs to apologize for tomorrow,” Mike said and walked toward Ben slumbering on the bed.
“He was fine, a bit chatty, but that's about it.”
“He didn't give you his ‘meaning of life’ speech, did he?”
“No, not quite,” Sydney smiled.
“You're lucky because that's a very long story.”
Mike gently slapped Ben on the face to try and wake him but Ben continued to sleep. “Okay, my friend,” Mike said. He pulled Ben upright and hoisting him over his shoulder. “I was hoping we could do this the easy way, but this will work, too.”
Sydney followed Mike to the door. “I'm sorry I had to bother you.”
“Don't worry about it. This is all part of my job: making sure these fools are safely tucked into bed on the nights they're incapable of doing so for themselves.”
Sydney grinned knowingly.
“Listen, I want you to know he's not usually like this. This is rare for Ben.”
“I understand and thanks for collecting him,” Sydney said.
“You have a good night,” Mike said, and stepped into the hall.
She watched Mike carry Ben's lifeless form over his shoulder, then shut her door.
The next afternoon Ben arrived late at the arena for the second Denver show. He was wearing jeans, black t-shirt and a pair of dark sunglasses. He knew he was running behind schedule but he still wanted to see Sydney before he went to work. He found her alone in a small room cleaning a camera with a soft cloth.
Sydney's expression softened when she saw him. “What's with the rock star sunglasses?” she laughed, already knowing his answer.
“The rock star has a major hang-over,” he said, and rubbed at his forehead. “I've been popping aspirin like candy and my head is still pounding. No more drinking with Simon.”
“Until next time,” Sydney said.
He grinned and shifted in place. “Listen, did I do or say anything last night that I need to apologize for now?” he asked.
“You mean, you don't remember what you did?” she asked.
“I'm sorry, but I don't.”
“You were fine, Ben. Relax.”
He moved toward the door and stopped. “This is a crazy question, but we didn't…”
Sydney laughed. “You were in no condition to walk, never mind anything else.”
Ben smiled brilliantly. “Good. I'd hate myself if I couldn't remember that.”
Sydney collected her equipment and began heading toward the stage area. At the last turn before the stage, her phone began ringing in her pocket. Sydney shifted the camera bag to the opposite shoulder and pressed the phone to her ear.
“Why haven't you called me?” Carol asked. “It's been days since I've heard from you and I was starting to worry!”
“I'm fine.”
“Is Ben behaving himself?” Carol asked.
“For the most part.”
“What about Simon?”
“He's an ass, but he's manageable. He might require an attitude adjustment with my knee thrust into his groin before the tour ends,” Sydney laughed. “Even if he doesn't need an adjustment, I may give him one anyway - just because he is such an ass.”
“You're evil, Syd.” Carol laughed. “So, you're okay?”
“Yes. I'm fine.”
“You're scheduled to be in Los Angeles next week.”
“A whole week in the same location,” Sydney said.
“Call me when you get there.”
Sydney ended the phone call and turned the last corner to the stage. Simon was jumping in place doing stretching exercises to warm-up before the show. When he saw Sydney, he blew her a kiss with two fingers. Sydney quickly fired a finger gesture of her own back at Simon, involving her middle finger. Simon responded to that by spinning around and pulling the back of his pants down and exposing his butt. As Simon bent over, Ben appeared and gave his brother a firm shove, sending him crashing into his drum technician.
Sydney shook her head and smiled at Ben. So much for Simon behaving himself, she thought. Then, the arena went to darkness. The audience roared to life, as the members of Reckless moved to their positions on stage and another show began.
CHAPTER FIVE
The first California show was in San Francisco, a city Sydney had always wanted to explore extensively, but had never had the time to venture out much beyond her hotel and the venues in which she was working, and this trip would be no different. The most she had managed in past trips to the city was a ride on a cable-car. The famous Fisherman's Wharf, Chinatown, curvy Lombard Street, and the Golden Gate Bridge were something she had only seen from afar or in someone else's photographs.
After the show at The Fillmore, Ben sat beside her in the band van on the way back to the St. Regis Hotel. Sydney immediately shifted on the bench seat to put as much space between them as possible.
“We're off tomorrow night,” Ben said, leaning in closer to say it quietly.
“I'm aware.”
He studied her profile. She was looking straight ahead, hands tightly clutching her equipment bags, back flush to the seat. Tense as always, he thought. More than anything, he wished he could be the one to unwind her, put a genuine smile on her face, or hear her laugh.
“Are you busy tomorrow night?” he asked suddenly.
“I'm working.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Have dinner with me first, then you can work.”
Finally she looked at him, her eyes reflecting confusion. “Why would I do that?”
“Why not?”
Sydney shook her head. “I don't think it's a good idea.”
Ben tipped his head back and rubbed at the fatigue in his eyes. “Suit yourself.”
They rode in silence for the remainder of the trip. Ben insisted on helping her carry her bags into the hotel, but his attempts to spend more time with her beyond that ended when she stepped onto an empty elevator and allowed the door shut in his face. As soon as Ben stepped into his room, he called his assistant.
“I need a favor,” Ben said.
“What kind of favor?” Laura asked.
“Call Syd and tell her I'm requesting a location shoot for tomorrow night. Explain to her we want to do a few shots for an album cover on the roof of the hotel. Tell her to meet us there at seven o'clock. Can you do that for me?” Ben asked.
“Any other special instructions?” Laura asked.
“Black and white format.”
“I think your brother already has plans for tomorrow night,” she said. “Do you want me to see if he can change them?”
“Don't mention this to him - or any of the other guys. I'll take care of that.”
Laura smiled. “There's no album cover shoot, is there Ben?”
“You think you know me so well, Laura,” he laughed.
“Like a book.”
“Can you help me out or not?”
“I'll give her a call, but don't hold me responsible for what she does after she finds out you tricked her.”
“Let me know what she says.”
A few minutes later
Laura called Ben again.
“Is she mad?” Ben asked.
“She was less than thrilled to be giving up a night off, but she said she'd be there.”
“I knew she'd agree to do it.”
“Ben, I hope you know what you're doing. In case you hadn't noticed, Syd doesn't have much of a sense of humor - especially when it concerns you.”
“If I show up in Los Angeles with a black eye, then you'll know why,” he said.
Ben had dinner delivered to the roof, complete with a private chef and two waiters. He arrived early and made sure every detail of their meal had been taken care of and then waited for Sydney.
He was nervous, pacing beside the metal roof top railing and repetitiously adjusting his clothing when it wasn't needed. It felt like high school, waiting for a date, he thought. He wiped the sweat from his palms down the length of his thighs and hoped Sydney wouldn't be too angry at him for lying about the photo shoot.
Sydney arrived ten minutes late, carrying one camera bag and a tripod. She could see Ben in the distance, leaning against the railing and looking toward the city buildings adjacent to their hotel. He was wearing tight jeans and a white dress shirt. His hair was blowing in the breeze and brushing the tops of his shoulders. Her eyes drifted down his back and settled onto his hips and the firmness of his butt.
She set down her equipment and glanced around the roof for the rest of his band. It was then she noticed an ornately decorated table for two, complete with linens and wine glasses. Her eyes went to Ben, just as he was turning to face her. She stepped toward him slowly, apprehension creasing her face.
His eyes scanned her body, concealed beneath loose fitting jeans and a simple pull-over shirt; even still, he thought she was beautiful.
“Where is the rest of the band?” she asked.
“They couldn't make it,” he said.
Sydney glanced back to the table and saw the chef and waiters standing nearby, then her eyes shifted back to Ben.
“The band was never invited, were they?” she asked.
Ben shook his head. He could see the anger rising in her face.
“Syd, don't be mad,” he whispered.
She turned away and began walking back toward her camera bag.
