by C. J. Harte
Susan stared at Maggie, fidgeting with the ring on her finger, then shoving her hands in her pocket, and finally nervously running her fingers through her hair. Could Maggie be as uncomfortable as I am? She nodded. “I guess I can put up with a suite for a couple of nights.”
A corner of Maggie’s mouth lifted in a hopeful smile.
*
Shortly after settling into their hotel rooms, they headed for the theater and a dress rehearsal. Maggie thrived in the intense, hectic pace of the evening. The music, the tension, and even the atmosphere ignited the passion within her. She absorbed the energy and it came back out in a raw sexuality. Susan was mesmerized.
When Susan was introduced as a financial consultant, people gave her a blank smile and said, “How nice.” Like “The archipelago represented interesting biodiversity.” How nice. Susan quickly learned what the word “groupie” meant. How nice.
A tall, thin man named Dan introduced himself, welcoming them to Atlanta. “Ms. Carson, thank you for sponsoring this fund-raiser. I can’t tell you how much AIDS Atlanta appreciates you stepping in and pulling this together. When Elton John had to cancel, we didn’t know what we would do. Then Karl called and said you would do the show and sponsor the entire thing.”
Susan stared at a blushing Maggie. Sponsoring? An AIDS fund-raiser? She felt more confused. There was much more to Maggie than Susan imagined. As Dan introduced the board members, Maggie greeted each person, quietly walking around shaking hands, not hesitating in hugging or touching.
While Maggie spent time talking individually to the board, Dan walked up to Susan. “She’s amazing.”
“Yes,” Susan said.
“She’s done so much for our community. And most of the time, she does things quietly. There are probably only two or three people who know she’s footing the entire bill. It’s become fashionable in some large cities to sponsor AIDS fund-raisers. M.J. does more. She really cares. She’s also a big sponsor of breast cancer awareness. I think her mother died of breast cancer when M.J. was young. With her these issues are personal, not just another headlining opportunity.”
Karl then appeared, urging M.J. and the band to get on stage. Many of the other performers and visitors settled into seats, choosing to remain for the entire rehearsal. Susan was on overload. Who was this woman?
Maggie walked up to Susan. “Will you sit on the stage and wait for me?”
Susan nodded. “Thanks. I’d like that.”
Throughout the rehearsal Maggie glanced over at Susan, actually walking off stage twice to smile or wink. Susan’s heart and head were at war. Unable to handle the conflicting emotions, she slipped into the audience, hoping to sort through her feelings. When Maggie next walked to the left side of the stage, she stumbled over her music as she searched for Susan. Every few minutes she searched the backstage area, but she did not stop the rehearsal. This caused comments from people in the audience, wondering what, or who, she was looking for. Finally, at eleven, the band quit.
Susan wanted to be alone, but those left at the end of rehearsal were hungry and thirsty. Dan recommended a local deli and the band, other entertainers, Maggie, and her staff descended on the place. Conversation was loud and animated. Maggie glowed in the attention and admiration but she was also considerate, even gentle with fans who sought her attention.
As she walked around, Maggie spent time at every table. “I am so glad you could join us this evening. What do you folks do in Atlanta?” Maggie sat and listened to them describe their jobs.
The next group she joined was a local all-women rock band. “I want you to know how much I enjoy your music,” she said. “I didn’t recognize it. Are you performing your own stuff?”
The woman with spiked red hair answered, “Yeah, we are. Thank you. That means a lot. I write most of it, but some of it we write as a group.” Maggie made each person feel important, as if no one else mattered.
“Hold on. Maya!” She called her assistant over and introduced her to the group. “Maya, will you give them one of your cards and be sure to get their names and phone numbers. We’re going into the production business and we would like for you to consider recording on our label.”
Susan admired Maggie’s ability to be such an engaging hostess. She no longer knew what to believe about Maggie. Her well of reserve was being drained quickly.
As if reading Susan’s mind, Maggie slid into the booth and whispered, “I’m ready to leave. How about you?” Susan nodded, realizing she had become a nonverbal idiot. Around Maggie, she had trouble remembering her own name. Maggie took her hand and helped her out of the booth. Thirty minutes later, they were alone in the room.
Susan tried to escape to her bedroom but was short-circuited by a quicker Maggie as she stepped in front of the door. A seductive smile spread across Maggie’s face. Susan stepped back. Maggie moved closer. They continued this two-step until Susan backed into a wall. Maggie leaned one arm against the wall and moved against Susan.
“When you disappeared off the stage,” Maggie said, “I had a moment of panic. I missed you. Tomorrow will you promise to stay backstage?”
Susan took a deep breath and agreed. She was confused. Why is it that every time this woman comes near me, all my bodily systems go into overdrive and my brain goes on vacation?
Maggie leaned closer. Susan was well aware of what would happen next. The touch of Maggie’s lips was as soft and gentle as Susan remembered. Maggie barely brushed her lips over Susan’s. She pulled away, but only inches, searching for any hesitancy. Susan met her eyes and did not turn away. Finding an answer, Maggie’s next kiss was not nearly as tentative. It was urgent, demanding.
Susan’s body responded to the probing tongue. A low moan escaped as Susan opened and welcomed her in. An incredible hunger started in her center and spread until Susan wondered how she remained standing. She pulled Maggie closer and felt the soft swell of her breasts. Susan was drowning in such exquisite hunger.
Maggie caressed the back of Susan’s neck as she trailed kisses down her chin and neck before moving back up to recapture her lips. Susan drank in the tenderness. Never had she wanted anyone as much as she wanted Maggie. As she started to unbutton Maggie’s shirt, Maggie pulled back.
“Not tonight. I don’t want you to have any regrets. Not just because you may be tired. Not in one moment of passion.” She stroked Susan’s cheek. “Good night. I’ll see you in a few hours.” She placed one more gentle kiss, turned, and walked into the other bedroom, closing the door behind her. Susan stood there breathless.
Getting to sleep wasn’t easy. Maggie scared her.
*
Maggie closed the door behind her and leaned against it, afraid to turn around. She couldn’t believe she had walked away from Susan. What was happening? She wasn’t sure she would know how to handle involvement without her old crutches. What would she do if Susan still said yes tomorrow? Sleep eluded her. Too many questions swirled in her dreams. For the first time in a long time, Maggie was confused and afraid.
Chapter Ten
Maggie was up long before her eight a.m. wake-up call, her adrenaline rush preventing sleep. She had arranged for an early call at the theater so the band could get in, set up, and do their checks before the other acts were even on their way to the theater. By noon they would be out of there and could rest until their evening performance.
During the tech rehearsal, Maggie oversaw every lighting and special effects cue. She planned each light fade, color change, and special effect. This complete control gave her a high that drugs used to provide. Better than sex, she once told Derek. Already she was feeling aroused. For the first part of the rehearsal, she sat behind the technician at the master console and watched the cues scroll by on the computer screen as her band moved quickly through the set. “Right here I want the drummer’s mike on,” she said, pointing to the screen. “This dialogue is between the drummer and me. Fade the lights except our two spots. Make it a gradual fade.” The tech nodded, asked the band to hold
, and made the changes. The band restarted. “No, that’s too fast. I don’t want the audience to really notice the fade out.” Again, the band started over. “That’s it. Now, here.” She pointed to the next lighting cue, offering another change. After going through the entire show and reviewing all the spots, she rejoined her band onstage. At twelve fifteen, she and her staff were on their way back to the hotel.
While Maggie often preferred to be alone before concerts, today she was restless and unsure of the welcome she would have when she returned to her suite. “Maya, come up so we can finalize the plans for the CD.” Maggie ignored the surprised look on Maya’s face and continued talking as they went up in the elevator.
When they arrived in the room, Maggie found it empty. Even though Susan left a note saying she would be back at five, Maggie had trouble focusing. Finally, at two, she sent Maya off to her own room. Where the hell is she? Maggie wasn’t accustomed to worrying about someone she barely knew. By the time Susan returned at four thirty, Maggie was irrational.
“Where the hell have you been?” Maggie shouted. “You can’t wander around Atlanta and not let anyone know where you are or when the fuck you will be back.”
Refusing to look at Maggie, Susan answered calmly, “Hello. Glad to see you. Yes, I had a great day.” She slowly sorted through objects in the bags she carried.
“Jesus H. Christ.” Maggie grabbed Susan, forcing her to turn and face her. Susan pulled her arm away and crossed her arms. “I’ve been worried sick wondering if you were okay, where you were, if you were coming back.”
“Well, as you can see, I’m fine.”
“Damn it, Susan. I have a concert tonight. I don’t need this.” Maggie sighed, her anger spent. Somewhere underneath the rage, Maggie recognized her fear was unreasonable, but she was unable, or unwilling, to acknowledge those feelings.
“First,” Susan began in a barely controlled tone, “I left a note telling you I was going out and when I would be back. Second, I didn’t ask to come to Atlanta. I was ordered. Third, as if it’s any of your business, I visited a friend from college and invited her to the concert and the dance, unless you have a problem with that. Finally, I am not responsible for your anger. Excuse me, I need to shower and change.”
Maggie immediately regretted her behavior. “I’m sorry. You don’t owe me any explanations.” Susan nodded and started to walk away. “Please, wait.” Susan halted. “I said I’m sorry.”
Susan nodded. “Apology accepted.” She walked into her room and closed the door.
*
Leaning against her door, Susan muttered, “What an ego. ‘I don’t need this.’ Well, neither do I.” She put her packages down. “I don’t care how important her account may be to Ed, I am not going anywhere else with this egomaniac.” Susan briefly wondered how she had gotten into this. “That woman is infuriating.” Her words didn’t negate the attraction. “Damn you, Maggie!”
Showered and dressed, Susan gathered the remnants of her fragile control. “I wonder if this emotional roller coaster is what menopause is like. If it is, then shoot me now and put me out of my misery.”
When she walked into the sitting room, Maggie was dressed in form-fitting black leather pants, shiny black knee-high boots, and a revealing black leather vest. Susan stared at the soft swell of breasts. She balled her hands into fists to keep from reaching out and touching. Susan took a deep breath, not sure her legs would continue to support her. She forced herself to look away, and that’s when she noticed the flowers. Flowers filled every inch of the room with a rainbow of color.
“They’re beautiful.”
“It took a little work,” Maggie said. “I didn’t know what kind or color you liked, so I tried to get a dozen of everything.” Maggie was now inches away. She lifted Susan’s palm and kissed it. “I know there’s no real excuse for my behavior earlier. I screwed up. I’m sorry. I was so afraid something might have happened to you. Give me another chance, please. You’re probably tired of my asking for another chance, but I am trying.”
Maggie’s eyes filled with tears, but she never looked away. That unexpected vulnerability surprised Susan, and she wanted to fix the hurt. The roller coaster was headed up again, and Susan knew she was losing control. “Maggie, these flowers are nice, but…” She struggled for the right words. There was pain in Maggie’s eyes. Susan lightly rested her hand on top of Maggie’s. “I may regret this, but you get one more chance.” Maggie wrapped Susan in an embrace.
They were soon back at the theater and the level of excitement had escalated. Dan and several men in tuxedos escorted them to Maggie’s dressing room. As soon as the door closed behind them, Maggie whispered, “This really means a lot to me.”
Susan felt the words more than heard them. Maggie’s voice was soft and sensual. Her body felt caressed without being touched.
“If I get a chair for you, will you sit near the stage where I can see you?”
Susan nodded. Maggie moved closer and she had trouble breathing. Maggie captured her lips. The kiss was urgent.
Maggie pushed against Susan’s body. She caressed Susan’s face before sliding down to her shoulders. Maggie kissed down the neck until clothes prevented further exploration. A groan slipped from Susan before she could stop it.
“Thank you for being here tonight. I’m so sorry about earlier.”
“Maggie, I—” Maggie’s hand covered Susan’s lips.
“Don’t say anything. Not yet.” Maggie’s words were barely a whisper and Susan felt her heart start to open.
A knock at the door broke the spell. The hair stylist entered, chattering about various Atlanta nightspots. For the next fifteen minutes he arranged her hair and her makeup before attaching a headset. Maggie was transformed into a different creature than the one Susan knew. She was now M.J. Carson.
Five minutes before their set, Maggie had someone bring Susan to the backstage area where a stool had been placed for her. She could see the stage, but not the audience. As the band entered and the music began, Susan felt strong arms encircle her from behind. She recognized Maggie’s scent.
“Again, thank you,” Maggie said, then she was bouncing out on the stage, reaching for her guitar as the crowd screamed her name.
During the next forty minutes, Maggie was boundless energy, constantly moving, dancing. Susan was amazed by her sheer sexuality. At times, Maggie walked to the side of the stage, just a few feet away, and sang. Her music was sultry and husky and then frantic and uncontrolled. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, her body taut with sexual promise. She was making love to the audience with her music, and they responded.
Susan was embarrassed by the rawness, yet she couldn’t prevent her own response. The fire Susan suspected was inside Maggie had become a consuming inferno with no escape for those in her path. The temperature in the auditorium was at the combustible level.
Near the end of their first set, Maggie came off the stage and ran with Susan to her dressing room. The door closed behind them. They listened to the band finish the set as Maggie pulled her clothes off. Five minutes later she had changed and was ready for the next set. When she heard the overhead stage call she realized they had a few minutes. “Five minutes,” she said as she pulled Susan into an embrace. Her kiss was again possessive. The heat of that one kiss shook Susan as no other ever had. Everywhere Susan’s body touched Maggie’s felt singed. Briefly Susan imagined she could smell the smoke.
“I want you,” said Maggie. Susan was sure the smoke detectors were going off. Maggie grinned and grabbed her headset. “Show time,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Susan wanted to ask where but she didn’t care anymore.
The second set started with a slow, sensuous blues number. When the song finished, Maggie talked to the crowd. “The band just finished recording a new CD. When I was growing up, I loved to listen to love songs, and I always wanted to sing them to a special someone.” She looked at Susan sitting off stage, then turned her attention to the shouting au
dience. “Our new CD, Special Someone, will be out next February. We’re going to do a couple of songs from that CD.”
The drummer’s pulsing beat echoed through the auditorium, an amplified heartbeat. The keyboard’s melody began softly at first, followed by the lead guitar. The backup vocalists humming blended with the instruments. Maggie lifted the microphone to her lips. The song was filled with wanting. Susan felt the music in her soul.
At the end of their second set, they were called back and played for another ten minutes before finally leaving the stage. The house lights on, everyone headed back to Maggie’s dressing room, which was now filled with people, alcohol, and snack food. Susan quietly moved into a corner and watched. Maggie was everywhere, talking, laughing, her hands constantly in motion. Susan would have felt completely out of place if she wasn’t so turned on by thinking how those hands would feel on her body.
After twenty minutes of raucous chaos, Karl reminded the crowd they needed to get to the dance and Maggie needed to change. He managed to empty the room in spite of one or two stragglers who were determined to be alone with M.J. Carson.
Maggie quickly showered and changed into a green silk blouse, jeans, and a navy blue blazer. She was somewhere between M.J. and Maggie and still stunning. The front of the blouse was open to just above her waist, a very provocative, and intentional, effect.
Susan had always considered herself asexual at worst and a depressed libido at best. Maggie reminded her that she was not dead. Maggie grabbed her hand and said, “Let’s dance.” Susan thought they already were.
Chapter Eleven
The ballroom at the hotel was packed. This didn’t prevent Maggie from being noticed. She shook hands, signed autographs, and chatted as she gradually made her way to a reserved table. She was the glad-handing politician. For the next hour, she danced with Dan, Karl, Maya, and even a few strangers, unable to gather the courage to ask Susan, the only person she really wanted to dance with.
