by Karen Cimms
She grabbed his nipple and lightly twisted it.
“Ow!”
“Next time, it won’t be a nipple.”
He covered his exposed crotch. “Truce?”
Nodding, she nestled back into the crook of his arm. When the show ended, she sat up and faced him.
“Do you want me to leave?”
Emotions swirled, and for a moment, he thought he might actually be sick.
“No. Why would you think that?”
“You’re pretty angry with me. I just figured—”
“I know, and I’m sorry. But just because I got pissed doesn’t mean it’s over. Jeez, Katie.” Panic flowed through him like ice water. He’d never experienced anything like this. He stood and headed for the bedroom. He was zipping his jeans when she walked in.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting dressed,” he said, more harshly than he’d intended. “I can’t argue with you when I’m naked.”
“I don’t wanna argue.”
“Then what do you want?” To hide his shaking hands, he balled his fists into the T-shirt he’d been about to slip over his head.
“I just want you to be happy.” She bit her lip. He wanted to step across the room and bite it for her.
“What about you? Don’t you want to be happy?”
She looked as if she didn’t know how to answer.
“Katie? Are you happy?”
“At this moment? No. But the rest of the time, yeah. With you. I really am.” She whispered, as if she wasn’t sure it was the right thing to say.
“Katie,” he said softly, “I’m happy, too, at least when it comes to you. I want you here. I know we jumped into this way too soon, but I don’t care. And I’m sorry I can’t keep my hands off you.” He tossed his shirt on the bed and pulled her toward him. “Look what I’ve done to you. It’s my fault you’re sick.”
He brushed her hair from her face and guided her to the edge of the bed. “Don’t leave me. Things aren’t perfect, but we’ll figure it out.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Some days, I can’t believe how lucky I am.”
Her lips quivered, and he took her hands in his. “You call and make that appointment. Make sure you’re all better, and then you get that psychopath to give you another prescription for birth control, okay?”
She nodded.
“In the meantime, I’ll buy a case of condoms. That should last until the end of the week, right?”
She snorted and punched his arm.
“I hate them, but I’ll use them until it’s safe.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kate was still tired and queasy but felt well enough to participate in a promotional event for Bailey Swift and his introduction to record industry execs and the American press. The only problem was working out the logistics of her coming and going.
Joey jumped at the chance to tag along. After class, he met Kate a block from the soundstage, where she waited with Billy.
“I can’t believe you agreed to this,” Joey said as they walked down Flatbush Avenue, bundled up against the late February chill.
“You can’t kick me any more than I’ve been kicking myself, so don’t even try. I kinda get it. I used to have crushes on George Michael and David Lee Roth. A few months ago I was convinced I’d meet George Michael and move to England, where we’d live happily ever after in his castle.” Her chattering teeth were making it difficult to speak. “But I’m crazy about Billy. He’s better than George Michael and David Lee Roth combined. And you can throw in Tom Cruise as well.”
As they waited for the light to change, she could feel Joey’s eyes on her. “First of all, Tom Cruise is married and has had plenty of high-profile girlfriends. Second, David Lee Roth is a whore. And third, George Michael is gay.”
She huffed. “No he isn’t! Look at him! Where do you come up with this stuff?”
Joey stopped short. “What does that mean: Look at him? Because he’s handsome, he’s not gay? Because he’s talented, he’s not gay? Because he’s macho, he’s not gay?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. He doesn’t look gay.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Do I look gay?”
She surveyed the crown of curly hair, the neat but not-appearing-to-be-plucked eyebrows, his vintage wing tips, and the jaunty scarf tied around the neck of his navy pea coat.
“Um, yeah.”
He waved his hand as if tossing her notion aside. “That’s beside the point.”
“I thought that was the point.”
“Mark my words. He’s gay.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Kate linked her arm through his. “If he pulled up in his limo right now and offered to whisk me away, I’d turn him down.”
“More likely he’d pull up and offer to whisk me away, but whatever.”
On the other side of the parking lot, Billy was climbing out of his van. He glanced in their direction, then locked up and went inside.
“I’m so glad you invited me to come along,” Joey said, practically giggling. He rubbed his hands together like some evil schemer. “Can I make believe I don’t know him, too?”
“Just behave yourself.”
“No way. This is gonna be too much fun.”
While the girls had costumes, if you could call something the size of a dinner napkin a costume, the musicians wore black. Christa had lobbied for Billy to play shirtless, but to no avail. Bailey Swift had to stand out, and once Kate saw him, she could see why. He looked more like a lounge singer than a rock star. His long, spiky black hair looked like a punk version of a bearskin hat. He wore a silky floral shirt unbuttoned to his navel, while several gold chains tangled in a thick carpet of black hair.
Across the room, men in dark suits conversed near a table set up as a bar. A tall, thin man with a dark beard, turtleneck sweater, and loud sport coat appeared to be the center of attention.
“That must be Davy Steinman,” Kate whispered. “He’s the producer. Billy said the money would be here tonight. I guess they must be backers or something. He’s trying to sell this Swift guy.” She motioned with her head to Bailey, who was circling the bar. “Billy said tonight is mostly about hearing the song, seeing the set, and getting some publicity shots with the window dressing, which includes yours truly.” She curtsied.
Joey soaked up the goings-on of big business and money, while Kate tried to keep an eye on Billy without actually looking at him. She assumed the tiny blonde hanging all over him was Christa Dunphy. Noticing the proprietary hand on his arm, she wondered if Christa’s insistence that Billy keep their relationship a secret had more to do with her wants than his needs. She was about to comment when Tiffany and Crystal arrived.
“Jeez,” she whispered. “They’re even taller standing up.”
Joey gave her a quizzical look. “Most people are.”
“You know what I mean. I’m gonna look like a shrimp next to them.”
“Fried shrimp, if you fall off that trapeze.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“You,” the wardrobe mistress barked at Kate, “and you two. You need to get into costume.”
Kate squeezed Joey’s arm. “I wish I’d asked Billy for one of those little pills, but I’m afraid I’d be so mellow, I’d fall off my perch.” She laughed nervously.
“You don’t need a pill,” he scolded. “You’ll be great.”
“Here’s hoping. I’m also hoping someone turns up the heat, or swinging over a fire might be the best part.”
While Kate went off to get dressed, Joey began making the rounds, beginning with Billy and Christa.
“Hellooo,” he said with a toothy smile, extending his hand. “I’m Joey Buccacino. My friend is one of the models.”
Already sorry he’d agreed to let Joey come along, Billy accepted his hand, suppressing a mild look of annoyance.
“Billy McDonald,” he muttered, shooting Joey a warning glance.
“I know a McDonald.” Ignoring him, Joey furrowed
his brow as if deep in thought. “Maybe I’m thinking of ‘Old McDonald’s Farm.’”
Billy scowled, but Christa cackled.
“I’m Christa Dunphy, Billy’s agent.”
“Oh, how fun!” Joey squealed. “I’ll have to get me one of those.”
“Why?” She seemed amused. “Are you a musician?”
“No, stylist—hair, makeup, clothing, you name it. Still in school, but already fabulous.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Joey gave her his best smile. “It was lovely to meet you, Christa.” He nodded at Billy. “Barney.”
Billy glared as he moved on to the other members of the band.
“Barney?” Christa said with a laugh. “How the hell did he get that from Billy?”
“He did that on purpose. He’s Kate’s friend.”
“Oh.” Her lips puckered as if she tasted something sour. “Where is she?”
“I dunno. Guess she’s getting changed.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting her.” She sounded as if she’d be more excited about a root canal.
“You wanted to know who took Kate’s photos.” He pointed at Joey. “And he did her hair, makeup, all of it.”
“Really?” She watched Joey work the room. “If he’s that good, he just might need my services after all.”
Without shoes, Kate was inches shorter than the two Amazons. Christa must have really wanted to please Billy to get her this gig.
She surveyed herself in the full-length mirror. Her breasts seemed much larger, and the top showed them off well. The other girls were overflowing theirs, which was probably exactly what the producer wanted. While they waited for the hair and makeup people, she slipped into her robe and wandered out onto the soundstage, looking for Joey. He was chatting with some suits, but when she caught his eye, he waved and excused himself.
“Oh my God, they’re so boring,” he whined. “Let’s see.” He pointed at the robe.
“Uh-uh.”
“In a very short time, everyone here will see. Show me first.” He tugged at her belt, but she slapped his hand away. Then she stepped back and flashed him.
“Too fast.” He grabbed the edges of her robe and held it open. “Very nice.” He nodded approvingly. “You almost gave me an erection!”
It seemed Joey wasn’t the only one who appreciated Kate’s figure. From across the room, Billy caught a glimpse of the exhibition and immediately began to berate himself—more so when he realized Bailey Swift had also noticed.
“Sorry, gentlemen,” Bailey said, excusing himself. “I see something that needs my immediate attention.” He headed for the bar amid the catcalls and whistles of the drummer and bass player, where he poured two glasses of Scotch. He strolled over and handed one to Kate, then he leaned in and said something to Joey, pointing to the other side of the room. Joey headed away, catching Billy’s eye as he crossed the room. He flashed him a big smile and waved.
Sonofabitch.
Bailey rested his hand on the wall above Kate’s head, while Billy clenched his jaw so hard it hurt.
“Well, well,” Joey said, materializing alongside him. “Whaddaya plan to do about that?”
“I thought you were taking care of her.”
“I was asked to walk her back and forth from the subway,” Joey reminded him. “You didn’t hire a babysitter. And frankly, she doesn’t need one.”
“You want her hanging out with that fucking jerk?”
“I don’t know. What’s one fucking jerk compared to another? Besides, they make a cute couple.”
As he turned to walk away, Christa called out.
“Joey, right?”
He stopped and nodded.
“They’ve got a problem you might be able to solve.”
“Me?”
“Somebody screwed up, and the makeup and hair people are scheduled for next Tuesday, not tonight. Can you do it?”
“Hell, yeah! I mean, I’ll have to make do with what I have on me, but I can do it.”
Christa looped her hand into the crook of his arm. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to Davy.”
Joey shrugged. “We’ve met.”
As Christa led him away, he grinned at Billy over his shoulder. “Look at me, saving the day!”
Scowling, Billy turned back toward Kate, but she was no longer visible. Bailey had been joined by one of the other guitar players and a sound tech. If he could figure out how to kick himself right now, he’d do it.
Joey set up shop in the small dressing room. He plugged in electric curlers, and set about putting the finishing touches on Kate’s hair. She already knew how to blow it out and curl it, so all he needed was to make it bigger. He teased and sprayed until it was as big as it was going to get while she made faces at him in the mirror.
“I look like I could be in a Whitesnake video,” she marveled, taking in the big hair and smoky eyes.
“You’re a regular Tawny Kitaen.”
“Could be, cuz I sure don’t look like me.”
Vacating the chair for Tiffany, she reached for her robe and headed toward the soundstage.
“Kate, wait.” Joey motioned for her to come closer. “I think you should stay here with me. Somebody’s about to blow an aneurysm.”
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Oh really? Too bad, because I’m thirsty. Are you thirsty?”
“Well, I am a little dry.” He grinned wickedly. “If you could just dart out and hurry back, I can’t see what harm it would do.”
She pursed her bright red lips, untied the robe and tossed it on a chair, and slipped into her black heels.
When she reached the soundstage, she hung back where she couldn’t be seen and mentally prepared for what she was about to do. She’d have one chance, and since she’d be the first to be seen in costume, she had to make it good. The band was rehearsing. If she walked to the right side of the craft table, she’d be facing them. Of course, a view from behind could also be good. When had she had become so evil?
This is for you, Billy.
She hadn’t gone but a few steps when the lead guitar screeched to a halt. The other instruments followed. It sounded like a musical car wreck, and it took all her resolve not to look in Billy’s direction. She struggled to keep from smiling. She made her pass, her back to the now silent room, stretching across the table to grab a few olives. Then she walked to the bar, where she picked up two bottles of water. Moving deliberately, hips swinging naturally from the height of the heels, she made her way backstage.
As she cleared the partition, Joey yanked her into the back, causing her to almost stumble out of her shoes.
“Oh my God!” he squealed. “I had to come out when I heard the music stop. Holy shit, girl! If you’d been in Times Square, there wouldn’t be enough hospitals to hold all the victims.”
She giggled. “I can’t believe that was because of me. I didn’t expect that!”
“Are you kidding? You could stop traffic.”
Behind her on the soundstage, they heard the director yell. “Back to work—show’s over.”
Joey squealed, then quickly lowered his voice. “I’d hate to be you tonight.”
“You think he’s mad?”
“Oh, I think he’s a lot of things: hot, bothered, horny—and yeah, probably pissed. Your biggest problem is that just about every other man out there is also hot, bothered, and horny, including Bailey. Pretty sure he was drooling.”
“Crap.” She chewed on her finger. “If anyone says anything, I’ll just say I have a boyfriend.”
“Good idea. Just don’t tell Billy that. Let him stew a bit.”
“You’re mean.” She poked him in the gut.
“I know,” he sang over his shoulder.
If Billy had been upset by Kate’s little performance, she was equally upset by what followed as Joey put the finishing touches on Tiffany. Kate was reading in a chair behind him when she heard Billy’s name.
“Oh, trust me,” Tiffany was saying. “
I’m nailing that before the week is out.”
Kate’s head shot up. Joey struggled to keep from smiling.
“Not if I get him first,” Crystal said.
“Well, we could share. There’s certainly enough of him to go around.”
Crystal hummed in agreement.
Tiffany caught sight of Kate glaring at her in the mirror. “You got a problem?”
“Me? Nope.” Kate smiled sweetly. When the girl looked back at her friend, Kate narrowed her eyes and clenched her teeth.
Joey coughed to keep from laughing.
“We have an early rehearsal Thursday.” Tiffany continued as if she and Crystal were alone. “I’ll invite him over afterward. Guys like that can’t turn down a threesome.”
Kate cursed under her breath. She flipped the page of her book so hard it tore.
Tiffany was about to respond to Kate’s grumbling when Joey yanked her hair. “Sorry, love,” he cooed. “Knot.” She scowled, then went back to discussing how they planned to seduce the hot, blond guitarist.
Kate pretended to read, swinging her foot furiously. When she glanced up at Joey, he pressed his lips together and tried to hide his smile.
Billy didn’t say a word when he picked them up at the subway station, and he did little more than grunt when he dropped Joey off at his station a few blocks later. He remained quiet as they drove through Brooklyn, over the Williamsburg Bridge, and into Lower Manhattan. Kate tried several times to engage him in conversation, but he just stared straight ahead, saying nothing.
After they pulled into the parking lot behind their apartment, he turned off the van and sat drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. She waited until he got out, then followed, expecting to help carry his bags.
“I got it,” he snapped.
“Fine.” It was her turn to get angry. She’d only agreed to do this video because of him. Plus it was his idea—or Christa’s, the little blond weasel—that no one know they were a couple. It wasn’t her fault she caused a stir. Not totally.
She bolted ahead, letting the door slam shut as he approached, and stomped up the stairs and down the hall to their apartment. Throwing her bag on the couch, she went into the bathroom to take off her makeup.
