Between A Rock & A Porn Star

by Eileen Green

  Standing, Skye looked at the man sitting across from her. “I suppose you have a date and time already set up for the interview?”

  “Yes. It’s the day after tomorrow. JC is in town playing at a bar in the village. He will be expecting you at ten p.m. All I ask of you, Skye, is to listen to the man and be open to him. It will be good for you.”

  Double connotations abounded from her boss today and she had no idea what any of it meant. Curiosity had gotten the better of her and that’s why she had accepted, but she knew Dwayne wouldn’t reveal what he was trying to say to her.

  “Thank you for the confidence,” she offered as she grabbed her purse from the small table between the two leather chairs before the desk. “I won’t let you down.”

  “I know you won’t, Skye. Just keep your mind open to the possibilities that will present themselves.” Again, with the cryptic comments. Now, she really did want to know what he meant. “The information you’ll need will be emailed to you.”

  Without another word, Skye left the lavish office of Dwayne Leeds. Taking the elevator down several floors, she made her way to her own desk, one that was in the middle of a bunch of other cubicles. She plopped her body down into the vinyl covered generic office chair that sat before her laminated desktop.

  “That bad?” asked Jeanette, the woman who sat on the other side of Skye to the right.

  “Yup. One I couldn’t get out of.” Skye knew the woman wanted more information, but even though Dwayne hadn’t told her to keep the identity of the intended interviewee, it was time to be tight lipped for a bit.

  “You’re Dwayne’s top journalist. You should be honored that he chose you.”

  “I know. Just shocked and perturbed about it.” Letting out a deep sigh, Skye began packing her laptop bag.

  Jeanette moved her chair into Skye’s cubicle space, which irritated the latter. It wasn’t that she had personal space issues, she just felt as if the woman was always trying to be nosy. She was known as one of the biggest gossips in the office and Skye never wanted to be the object of it. Of course, no one did, but Skye was a private person and preferred to stay under the radar. That’s why this assignment was throwing her for a loop.

  Turning to face the woman as the laptop was halfway in the black canvas bag, Skye noticed Jeanette scoping out the papers on her desk. Thankfully, there was nothing there to indicate what the assignment was, let alone anything else of her life.

  No pictures adorned her desk except a couple of inspirational ones hanging on the walls. A couple of cute little knickknacks sat round the clean surface but that was it.

  “So,” whispered her nosy neighbor, “who is it?”

  Finishing what she was doing, Skye gave a bit of a chuckle not to be rude. “You know I can’t tell you just yet. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a ton of research to do. I’ll be back in a few days.”

  Jeanette’s fallen face spoke volumes at Skye’s rejection, but she didn’t worry about it. The bleached blond woman who wore way too much makeup would be distracted by the end of the day with someone else’s information to gossip about.

  Taking the hint, which was a new thing for Jeanette, she moved her chair back around to her own desk before rising and taking off towards the break room. Once she was out of sight, Skye quickly loaded up her laptop. Taking a quick look around, she saw the coast was clear and changed her password.

  It wasn’t that she thought anyone had it, but she could never be certain. She didn’t want to disappoint Dwayne on this unwanted assignment for he seemed to think it could catapult her career to the next level, or even higher.

  Once she was finished, she powered down her desktop computer and stood. Grabbing her laptop bag, she noticed Jeanette exiting the break room. As quickly as possible, Skye took off down the aisle in the opposite direction and then to the elevators. She was off to do a job she didn’t want to do, but found she was a bit anxious about it.

  Chapter Two

  Sweat rolled off his body as he woke from the continual dream that haunted him night after night. Her disembodied voice came from the dark mist that he knew could draw him into the abyss that he had pulled himself from, time and time again.

  “Come to me, John. I love you and miss you. You won’t love another. Come be with me.” Addy’s voice was sweet and sultry as it called to him before it faded and he woke with a start.

  The black satin sheets he slept on to keep himself cool were damp with his perspiration. He knew he’d have to get up and strip the bed. It occurred every night and his housekeeper would look at him quizzically every Friday when she came in to clean and do his laundry. Seven sets of sheets along with his clothing made for a large amount of laundry for one man.

  Extra money was always in her paycheck over the amount he paid her. She never confronted him about it anymore. After Addy had passed away five years ago, Mrs. York had tried to complain, but John had insisted she take it. The nightmares had begun within a few days of the funeral. For months, they had a discussion on the amount he paid her, but after that, she stopped protesting.

  Thankfully, John had learned to cook when he lived at home as a kid. If he hadn’t, he never would have eaten. Now, he could have his groceries delivered and he fixed his own meals.

  Rising from the bed in the dark, John pulled the linens and tossed them in the wicker hamper in the master bathroom. After washing off in the shower, he donned a pair of shorts and made his way down to his basement.

  He could be himself here and work out some of his frustrations. A full gym took up a quarter of the lower level while another room spoke of darker activities.

  Tonight, he hopped on the treadmill and began to run. The flat panel TV on the wall in front of him came to life, a path in a mountain forest moving with him as if he ran along it.

  During daylight hours, he worked towards reinventing himself as the rock and roller he had been long ago. He began to practice with a couple of the old band members, and two new ones who had to be hired, six months ago. An album had already been finished and ready to be released as soon as the news that he was back had broken.

  Nighttime hours were spent alone trying to forget the demons that haunted him since his career had taken off thirty years ago. The rise to success as a celebrity had been the typical adage of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Alcohol had been included in the drugs part of that, which was more his drug of choice even though others had become a crutch for him also.

  The dreams of his wife, dead or alive captured his thoughts while he slept, or rather, if he slept. If he got two or three hours a night he considered himself lucky. Sometimes he felt as if he could fall asleep on his feet during the day, but he fought it off as if they were the devil himself.

  After an hour on the treadmill, John worked with some dumb bells. His legs burned from the run, and now he wanted his arms and shoulders to hurt. He couldn’t sleep if he was hurting.

  Once it felt as if his arms were going to fall off, he made his way to the attached bathroom situated between the gym and the other room. Washing off again in the shower there, he dried off and walked naked up to his office on the first floor.

  The windows in the house faced the ocean but they were also glazed so that no one could see through them even if they had binoculars trained at them from a boat. The entire expanse was his living room, the dining room, and the office.

  White wall-to-wall bookshelves took up one wall while a black leather sofa sat along the opposite wall. A glass and chrome end table sat on each end of the large piece of furniture while two black and white slipper chairs sat before his glass and chrome desk.

  Switching on his computer, he waited for it to load. Turning, he faced the floor to ceiling windows. Outside, the full moon shone down on the rippling water of the ocean, creating a streak of light from the rocks at the edge of the cliff all the way to the horizon. Stars twinkled in the sky since there weren’t very many houses out this way.

  Privacy was something John had tried to achieve even while
he was in the limelight. When things went wrong at home, he retreated further. His agent had told him he was committing professional suicide, but John knew he had to step away from the career he had worked so hard to accomplish.

  A ding sounded from the computer, telling John he was ready to go. Turning around, he sat in the cold leather chair, hissing at the contact on his naked ass. Bringing up his email, he read through them, choosing which ones to delete, save, or read again.

  One particular message stood out. It was from his manager, William Jennings. He had set up an interview with a journalist from MVC and they would be there at the bar in New York City where he would perform, thus rebooting his life.

  Interviews were something he had avoided, even in his heyday, but this one was too important. This one would hopefully help relaunch his career. However, John hoped for something more to the encounter that would help stop the nightmares and help him begin to live again.

  ***

  “Flight 605 for JFK now boarding at gate 25. First class passengers may now begin to board. Rows ten through twenty will begin boarding in a few minutes.” The man’s voice sounded over the loudspeaker in the waiting area at LAX, or at least Brock thought it sounded like a man.

  Standing, he gathered his carryon and pulled his ticket out of his black leather jacket pocket. Making his way to the beginning of the ramp, he handed the ticket to the flight attendant. Looking at the ticket and then up at Brock, a beaming smile appeared on her face. “Have a good flight, Mr. Stroker.”

  With a quick nod of his head at the comment, he made his way down to the plane, found his seat, stowed his small piece of luggage in the overhead, and then sat down. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he perused his messages.

  He had told his secretary to keep his whereabouts for the next few days a secret, as he wanted to be in New York for his best friend’s comeback. People at the studio could handle any situation in his absence.

  A message from one person piqued his interest and he tapped it open. Sending my best reporter to cover the music set and interview JC.

  She needs an “education” and I think you both would be perfect. Discipline and structure. She’ll fight you on it; she’s a private person. But she needs to break out of her shell. D.

  A smile crossed Brock’s face at the news. He hadn’t had a good subject in quite a long time. This trip would be beneficial in more than one way.

  After he put his phone back in his pocket, he fastened his seatbelt and then leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes. He hoped no one sat next to him, but if they did, he hoped they would be quiet.

  He had an all-nighter last night with a group of his stars, filming a gangbang scene. Usually he didn’t attend all the shoots, but he had a vested interest. One of his subjects had requested that he be the director. Always wanting to keep everyone happy, he did as she had asked.

  He had gotten a few hours of sleep before having to get up, pack, and then make his way to the airport. His assistant had driven him. And, would pick him up when he returned from New York. Now, he just wanted to sleep until they landed.

  Not bothering to open his eyes, he heard throngs of people boarding the plane, most likely coach passengers, making their way further back. People murmured about others taking too long, or complained about their vacations being too short. Brock ignored them.

  Soon, he heard the door close on the plane and the flight attendant was on the loudspeaker talking about emergency procedures. As the plane began to taxi, Brock felt his body relax and sleep overtake him.

  ***

  Skye had researched John Campbell until words and pictures swam through her vision even with her eyes closed. If there was any story out there regarding the man, she had read it, whether it was true or not.

  Her bed hadn’t been slept in last night. The questions still needed to be put down on paper so she remembered all she had wanted to ask him. Butterflies were already flying aerials in her stomach, her nerves getting the better of her. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she would get to meet the illustrious JC, let alone interview him.

  Determined to get the questions put together, she pushed forward. She needed to get a couple hours of sleep before going to the club, Boom, later that night.

  Two hours later, she finished what she set out to do. Removing her clothes, she slid between the sheets on her bed and promptly fell asleep.

  The ringing of her phone woke Skye at seven o’clock. Blindly reaching for it on the nightstand, she knocked over a few things before her hand settled on the offensive device. Picking it up, she looked at the display, realizing it was the alarm and not a call.

  Groaning, she threw back the covers and swung her feet onto the floor. It was time to get ready to go to the club and meet the man that had been a big part of her fantasy life as a girl.

  By nine, a pair of black jeans adorned her along with a red tank top under a sheer black blouse. Black suede boots decked her feet. She was of the old adage that black was slimming. Her golden blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a way to keep it away from her face while she observed her mark.

  The call had already been made to have a cab meet her out front of her apartment. She stood on the steps waiting for it trying to calm her heart that beat a hard-rapid tattoo in her chest.

  This could be the piece that sent her career soaring. Then again, it could also send her right back to the bottom of the heap. She had to wonder if Dwayne had thought of that. Would he have done that to her? Possibly ruin her career?

  The cab caught her attention as it pulled up to the curb. Getting in, she gave the address to the cabby and they were off.

  The club was busy as they pulled up to the curb out front. At least a hundred people were waiting at the door to get in. Apparently, JC’s comeback would not be missed by many.

  Showing her credentials at the door to the bouncer, she was granted entry. Her cameraman was already inside from what she was told.

  The place was busy inside and more people wanted to come in. This was a good turnout.

  Sitting at a table off to the left of the stage, she met up with her cameraman, Jason. Providing her instructions to him, he went off to a table down from the middle of the stage. They were never together until the interview part of the process after a performance. The talent would be drawn to the camera and Skye wanted to watch the interaction, to watch the person when they thought they weren’t being observed attentively by a real person.

  Skye glanced around scoping out the area in front of the stage. A large section was open without any tables, most likely for people to stand and dance. Only two tables sat front and center and she was certain one of them was for her. The other, most likely reserved for one of JC’s friends.

  The other sitting areas in the club were towards the back near the bar and subsequently the door, bathrooms, and most likely the office.

  Lights hanging from the staging trusses above were dim or completely unlit for the moment. As soon as the concert began, they would light up in various colors and begin a sultry dance of their own. Piped in music filled the space as the club most likely wouldn’t have a DJ until later that night, after the concert.

  Excitement resonated in the building as people filled the area. Most of them held drinks, anywhere from bottles of beer to martini and fancy glasses depending on their choice of alcohol. Conversations were loud and varied in topics, but most of them speculated JC’s life and sudden reappearance.

  This was when it paid to be an overweight, non-pretty person. No one would take a second look at her. She could watch and listen to others, and file the information for later. No one would interact with her, but there were comments about the lonely fat girl in the corner. She shrugged them off, knowing that most of it was true.

  A tall thin bleached-blond woman walked up to Skye’s table. Her huge tits were barely covered by the club’s logo t-shirt, while a short black mini skirt showed the bottom of her ass cheeks. “What can I get you?”

  Nee
ding to keep her wits about her, she saw the smirk on the waitress’ face when she ordered a Diet Coke. Skye didn’t care. She had seen, and heard worse.

  As the woman walked away, Skye scanned the quickly filling room. Her breath caught in her throat as she spied a tall man with short dark hair looking her way. Heat suffused her body, mostly between her legs, which surprised her. Her nipples hardened within the plain black bra that held in her 38DD’s. What was the sense of wearing something pretty if no one was going to see it?

  Intense dark eyes seemed to drill into hers as he stalked her way. Muscles bunched and flexed under his clothes as he moved toward her. He moved with purpose, his chiseled jaw set tight on the sides of his slight smile.

  Turning in her seat, she looked behind her to see what or who he was looking at, but found no one there. There was a door behind her, probably leading back stage, so perhaps he was going there.

  Adjusting herself back to where she was facing the stage, she kept her gaze upon it and tried to ignore the Adonis walking her way.

  Before he reached the table, the blond bombshell arrived with her soft drink and set it on the table. Skye handed her a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

  “Thanks, hon,” the woman said, her high voice squeaking. She should let her body talk for her, which it probably did, and keep her voice silent.

  The woman began to turn away but a whiskey smooth baritone voice stopped her. “I’ll take a bottle of Cristal and two glasses, please. Also, some hot wings and chili cheese fries.”

  Well, that’s an odd combination. Sometimes observances were rather funny.

  “Yes, sir,” the squeaky voice sounded again before she took off.

  Mr. Hot and Handsome stopped next to Skye’s table and stood silently. Liquid seemed to ooze from her pussy as she breathed in the aroma of his musky aftershave while she stared at the stage. Not wanting to engage, she felt it was best to pretend not to notice him even though her body was doing things it had never done before.

  It seemed like forever before she could no longer ignore him. Slowly, she turned her head and looked up at the smiling dreamboat before her. It looked as if he was waiting for her to acknowledge him as his hands were behind his back and he stood as if he had been in the military at some point.