Incidental Happenstance

by DeSalvo, Kim

  Dylan invited her tonight because he wanted to be with her, and she had to trust that. He’d never given her any reason to doubt him, and she had faith in his integrity. She pushed the feeling down and watched the two perform together. It wasn’t the first time, obviously, and they sounded good together—her voice had a raw edge to it and she knew how to work the stage. Tia cheered just as enthusiastically as the rest of the group when they finished and took a bow.

  Chad plucked the first notes of Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl on his electric guitar, and the crowd cheered, nearly all of them jumping to their feet to hit the dance floor. It was an obvious favorite, and Tia watched them, smiling, as they danced and spun to the song. Dylan sang the first couple lines, then put his mike in Chad’s stand, leaving the stage and sauntering over to Tia, his hand extended. She smiled and put her hand in his as he led her, hips swaying seductively, to the dance floor. He pulled her into a sensuous dance, their bodies moving together in slow circles, and he thought to himself, I love this girl! The thought both thrilled and terrified him, but right now, with her in his arms, he was feeling mostly the thrill. He led her in a spin, then dipped her back, kissing her as he bent over her. He sang to her, changing the words to “green-eyed girl,” and she laughed at his exaggerated dance movements. The entire crowd sang the last verse, getting louder and singing to each other with huge smiles “sha la la la la la la…” Dylan spun Tia, slow and easy, she tossed her hair and smiled—she felt on top of the world, and then she was back in his arms, pressed against him and swaying until the song ended, and the whole crowd broke into enthusiastic applause and began hugging one another.

  “Whew!” Tia said, “I didn’t know you were such a sexy dancer!”

  “Well, some of it might be that dress,” he smiled seductively, “you sure know how to bring the sexy into a room!” He put his hand on her cheek and looked her in the eyes. “I’m really glad you came, Tia.”

  She smiled warmly at him, pressing her cheek into his hand. “Me too.”

  They headed back toward the table, but Tia took a detour to the ladies’ room. When she walked in, Gina was standing in front of the mirror, putting on lipstick. Their eyes caught in the reflection, and Tia smiled at her, extending her hand for an introduction. “Hi,” she said. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Tia.”

  “I’m Gina,” she said, taking Tia’s hand and shaking it.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Tia said, and Gina raised her eyebrows.

  “Really,” Gina said, somewhat suspiciously.

  “A bunch of the guys were telling stories about when Dylan lived here, and your name came up a lot. You were great by the way, on stage. You’ve got an incredible presence and a great voice.”

  “Thanks!” Gina said. “I always loved singing with Dylan. It’s really great to see him again.”

  “I’m sure he was glad to see you too. I know how excited he was to come and see all his old friends,” she replied. “This is a great party they put together for him.”

  Gina hadn’t planned to, but she couldn’t help but like this girl. Her face was honest and open, and she was being genuinely nice, even after seeing her and Dylan on stage together. She didn’t detect any animosity or jealousy, and could instantly see what Dylan saw in her. Plus, she’d seen the look on his face when she walked into the pub, and how he looked at her while they were on the dance floor—like there was no one else in the room; or the world, for that matter. She knew that look, and in her younger days she was always hoping that he’d look at her that way. They’d had some amazing times together, but he’d never looked at her with that kind of pure adoration. She decided to be straight with her.

  “You know, Tia, everyone was so excited when he said he was coming,” she began, “but maybe no one was more excited than me.” It was Tia’s turn to lift her eyebrows in question, and Gina continued. “Listen, before you hear it from someone else, you might as well hear it from me.”

  Tia swallowed and nodded her head. “OK.”

  “Dylan and I dated back in the day—for a while; I thought he was the one.”

  “I see,” Tia said, having pretty much figured that out already.

  “I’d even hoped that seeing him again tonight might rekindle something.” Tia’s face dropped a bit, but her eyes remained steady. “I hit on him pretty hard when I first got here, but he pushed me back in no uncertain terms.” Tia inhaled deeply, instantly relieved. “He told me he was serious about someone, and I could see it as soon as you got here—his whole presence changed, you know? I’ve never seen him that way with anyone—including me, and well, you seem really nice, and I didn’t want any hard feelings.”

  Tia smiled, thankful for her honesty, and secretly thrilled that Dylan had told her that their relationship was serious. “I appreciate you being straight with me,” she said, “and there aren’t any hard feelings, don’t worry.” She stuck her hand out to shake Gina’s again, and she said, “Nice to meet you, Tia. You know you’re pretty damn lucky, right?”

  “Luckiest bitch on the planet,” she smiled, recalling Lexi’s words. Gina laughed again and agreed completely, then left to rejoin her friends at their table.

  When Tia approached their ever-growing group, Max was busy persuading Dylan to do one of his songs. “Come on Dylan, give us one of yours,” he said.

  Dylan looked at Tia and asked, “How about it? Will you sing with me? We’ll do Pull You Up. Just you, me, and the guitar.”

  “I could do that,” she agreed immediately, and the crowd applauded appreciatively as Dylan stepped up behind the mike.

  “Can I just say,” he began, “that this has been a bloody brilliant evening, and I’m so glad to see all of you again!” His friends toasted him and clapped in total agreement. “Max has been bugging the shit out of me to play one more, so I hope you don’t mind…” more applause and whoops of encouragement, “and I’m asking my special girl to sing with me.” He strummed the first chords, and slid into the song, Tia closing her eyes and getting lost in the music, singing in her clear, cool voice. The more Dylan sang that song the more he loved it; and he really loved singing with Tia, as well. It was another thing they had in common, and for him, it was one of the most important qualities he needed in a girlfriend. Music was his life, and he needed his partner to share that passion with him.

  When they finished the song, Dylan kissed her, and put his arm around her so that they could share a bow. The group was enthusiastic with their appreciation, and Tia felt as though she were dancing on a cloud. Gina caught her eye and gave her two thumbs up, and Tia smiled back.

  It was getting late, and since there were now eight of them instead of one, they decided they’d catch the last train back to London. It took a half hour to say goodbyes. When Gina hugged Dylan, she whispered, “She’s a keeper,” and he replied simply, “I know.” He bid farewell to his old friends, knowing it would be a long time before he’d see most of them again. He handed out tickets for the Manchester show to his old band mates and whoever else wanted them, and they headed back to the station to catch the last train back to London.

  Tia fell asleep on the train, her head resting against Dylan’s chest. He looked down at her and felt his heart swell. He was in love. He needed to tell her, obviously, but he wanted it to be special, and private, and as long as Lexi was here and the girls were rooming together, it wouldn’t be. After Amsterdam they’d be going to Paris, and he couldn’t think of a more perfect place in the world to give her his heart; not that she didn’t have it already. Lexi leaned over and whispered something in his ear, and he smiled—the perfect plan forming in his mind.

  Chapter 23

  Tia woke up in the luxurious bed and rolled over to look out the huge window from which she had an incredible view of the Eiffel Tower. It was her birthday, and she sang softly to herself as she soaked in the city below her. The conversation hadn’t come up, so Dylan still didn’t know, and she certainly had no intention of springing the information on him today.
This entire summer had already been the best gift she could ever imagine—the chance to spend more time with him and an entire season on one of the most incredible continents in the world. It was more than enough for her that she’d be able to spend the evening with the man she loved.

  Dylan had slipped out sometime earlier; she knew he had some business to take care of this morning including a live appearance on a talk show, a taped performance with the rest of the guys for a late night show, a radio interview, and an audience with the mayor. The sun was shining and she felt wonderful; she was satiated from their lovemaking the night before, and more than content with the way things were going between the two of them. She had so enjoyed her time with Lexi in London and Amsterdam, and was still enjoying every minute of her summer. Her only regret was that it would be coming to an end in just a couple weeks. After Paris they had only Madrid, Lisbon, Rome and Florence before she’d have to say goodbye to Dylan for a very long time. But, today was her birthday, and she refused to feel sorry for herself for even one minute. This was going to be a day to remember, with the beauty and magic of Paris at her fingertips.

  Tia threw the curtains open wide and stepped out onto the terrace to stare down at the city that spilled at her feet. Even Jessa had a full schedule today so she had most of it to herself, and she reveled in the idea of wandering aimlessly around the Louvre and through the Tuileries Gardens before meeting Dylan for a quick lunch at a little café on the Champs Elysees between interviews. Her afternoon would be full of shopping on one of the most beautiful and trendy streets in the world, and she’d decided that today would be a good day to splurge on something incredible. InHap wasn’t playing until tomorrow night, so Dylan had planned a late dinner at the Jules Verne, on the second level of the Eiffel Tower, a spectacular site for a quiet birthday dinner and an excellent reason to buy a fabulous new dress.

  The one she picked out was a knockout—so was the price, but she gritted her teeth as she handed over her credit card, knowing she’d freak out all over again when she got the bill—a sapphire blue silk with a plunging neckline and slits up the sides, beaded on the bodice with almost invisible iridescent pearls. It seemed to swim over her curves in little ripples when she moved, and to twinkle, just slightly, when light hit the beads. It reminded her of the Tower at night, sparkly against the deep sapphire sky. She returned early to the hotel to soak in a tub full of deliciously scented oils she’d picked up at another boutique, and took her time doing her hair and makeup. She wanted tonight to be extra spectacular.

  ***

  There were no disguises tonight—the Jules Verne was exclusive enough that Dylan would be one celebrity among others; and those who could afford to dine there were not easily awed. He looked incredibly sexy in his dark gray Armani suit, and when he came out of the room and stopped short, staring appreciatively when he saw her in her new dress, she felt positively dizzy with delight. He pulled her into his arms and nuzzled her neck, whispering, “Maybe we should just stay home tonight, Mademoiselle, and I will show you the new French I learned.” She whispered an incredibly sexy reply in French into his ear—he had no idea what it meant, but it made parts of him stir uncontrollably just to hear her voice breathing the words. In the end, though, he’d gone through an awful lot of trouble to plan this evening, and he wasn’t about to lose a minute of it. When they got home, however, he would make sure to get a translation.

  It was late in the evening, but the city still buzzed with excitement and lovers strolled through the streets arm in arm, oblivious of those around them. The plan was to go to the top of the tower first, on one of the last and least crowded ascensions, before heading down for an elegant and romantic dinner. Tia couldn’t imagine a more perfect night—the sky was clear and the city was illuminated, the Tower twinkled and flashed against a full moon, and the air held the usual Paris crispness. The streetlights cast just enough shadows that they were able to remain anonymous and enjoy the walk to the Tower alongside other tourists and the handful of locals that hadn’t yet fled for their summer holidays. Tia had been looking forward to this all day; looking out over the city of lights from the most incredible vantage point that Paris had to offer; so she couldn’t hide her disappointment when they reached the gates and read the sign that said the Tower Observation point was closing early that evening; sorry for the inconvenience. It was their only free night in Paris; there would be a show tomorrow and they would leave the following afternoon, so it was the only chance they’d have to go to the top together.

  “Oh, no,” she said sadly, “The top of the Tower’s closed? Why tonight?”

  But Dylan kept walking, right up to the entrance for the lift, where an older gentleman was standing. “Bonsoir, Monsieur Miller,” he smiled. “Mademoiselle,” he added, nodding at Tia. “Everyzing is in order,” he continued in heavily accented English, “après moi, s’il vous plait.”

  Tia glanced over at Dylan with a question in her eyes, and he smiled down at her with a glimmer of knowing in his own. “What did you…?” she asked, as they were whisked into the lift and began their ascent up the Tower. He pulled her into an embrace and whispered into her ear, “I managed to reserve us a private viewing,” and he held her against him as the streets and fountains fell below their feet and their eyes swept over the top of the city. Paris was spectacular at night, all lights and shadows with the incredible architecture rising in peaks and spires. When they reached the top, the gentleman handed Dylan a small device and said, “Simply beep when you are ready, monsieur. Enjoy the view,” They stepped out of the lift and the man tipped his head as he began his decent.

  Tia stepped out onto the platform and ran to the edge to take in the city below. “We have the whole thing to ourselves?” she said excitedly, pulling Dylan to the edge with her. “I can’t believe it! Is there no end to the influence you have?”

  “I had to pull a couple strings, believe me,” he smiled, “it was part of my meet and greet with the mayor today, but just seeing your face right now makes it all worth it.”

  “This is incredible!” she exclaimed. “Look! There’s the L’arc de Triomphe! I can’t believe how tiny it looks from up here!” She turned to him and kissed him on the cheek. “It’s the most beautiful thing in the world!” she exclaimed.

  He looked deep into her eyes. “You’re the most beautiful thing in the world,” he said, pulling her to his mouth.

  “Oh Dylan, this is more than I could have dreamed!” she said, spinning in small circles and coming back into his arms. “You make me feel so special, and I’m just so incredibly lucky to be able to share all this with you. You’re pretty amazing, do you know that?” She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest. “I couldn’t ask for a better night!”

  He led her around the circle of the platform for another perspective on the city. “But if I wanted to make it even better, you’d be OK with that, right?” he asked mischievously. She was just about to tell him that it couldn’t get any better, but as they rounded the next curve, she saw a table set for two looking out over the Seine. A bottle of champagne rested in a silver chalice, and two glasses were already poured, perched on the edge of the table.

  “Oh my,” she breathed, stopping and staring. “You weren’t kidding. Is this for us?”

  “Happy Birthday, Tia,” Dylan smiled warmly. When she looked at him with confusion in her eyes, he answered, “Lexi told me. Why didn’t you?”

  “I…” she stammered, flustered. “I didn’t want you to feel obligated to… Oh Dylan, you’ve given me so much; this whole summer is more of a gift than I could have ever hoped for…” He laughed at her and handed her a glass of champagne. “It would have been the best birthday I’ve ever had, just being here with you, in Paris of all places! I didn’t need anything else to make it special—this is already as good as it gets!”

  “You are a lady of mystery,” he said. “You always keep me guessing.” He clinked the rim of his glass against hers. “To you,” he said. “I�
�m so glad to be spending your birthday, and this summer, with you.” They drank, and Tia suddenly giggled and ran to the edge of the platform, yelling out over the city, “I have the most wonderful man up here, Paris! Best birthday ever!”

  Dylan laughed, and removed the domed lid from the silver platter on the table. On it was an assortment of crackers, olives, and nuts—the aperitif, Tia recalled; the first in the long procession of a typical French meal. “Mademoiselle,” he crooned, bowing, pulling out her chair and spreading her napkin on her lap. “Dinner is served, in typical French birthday style.”

  They nibbled on crackers and olives while they talked about their respective days. She gushed about seeing the Mona Lisa—much smaller than she’d ever imagined, and the Venus de Milo and the incredible paintings, sculptures and historical pieces that had filled her day. She showed him pictures of the gardens, and the glass pyramid at the Louvre, and they both agreed that it just looked out of place next to such grand ancient architecture. He told her about his interviews and his meeting with the mayor, where he’d agreed to perform a couple songs at his daughter’s wedding next year in exchange for a private dinner on the top of the tower. “A small price to pay to see the look in your eyes tonight,” he told her, then added, “I hope that you’ll be my date for the wedding, Tia.”