Tudor Rose (The Tudor Dynasty Series)

by Salisbury, Jamie

  One stop in the east is no different from any of the venues before, until after the show. A couple of local radio stations are hosting their own “after-party” in one of the areas clubs. Unbeknownst to me, band members had committed themselves to attend. I’m standing outside their dressing room, letting them change. Red approaches me, an enormous Cheshire cat grin on his face.

  “Zara, let the others go on to the party. Amadeus needs to stay put. Somebody wants to speak with him, and he’s really important.”

  “He must be by the look on your face, Red. Who is our mystery guest?”

  “You’ll recognize him the minute you lay eyes on him. Let me get the guys to the limo.” The burly man walks in and moments later exits with the band. “You go ahead and wait with Amadeus. I’ll be right back.”

  Amadeus is sitting on a sofa, bare chest, drinking a bottle of water. He jumps up as I enter. “We ready to leave?” he asks, taking a dry shirt from me.

  “No, evidently someone Red claims is very important wants to speak with you.”

  “Who?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “No idea, Red’s being quite coy about the matter, but by the expression on his face, someone quite famous.”

  A knock on the door ends our conversation. Red pokes his head in, his enthusiasm alluring as he walks in. Behind him is a man I only ever dared dream about meeting. He’s been an idol of mine since I was a teenager. Peter McNichol!

  He approaches Amadeus and introduces himself. The two shake hands as he turns his attention toward me. I can’t believe I’m shaking his hand! Formalities aside, I invite our guest to sit.

  “I wasn’t aware you were in the States?” I begin, hoping I don’t sound like the village idiot.

  “Yes, I’m on holiday actually. I heard Amadeus would be playing here tonight and thought I’d pop in.” He glances in Amadeus’ direction. “I’m a huge fan. You’re quite a gifted songwriter, not to mention singer.”

  “Thanks,” Amadeus replies, “that means a lot. Zara and I are big fans of your music as well, but I guess you hear that a lot.”

  Our guest laughs, continuing, “Yeah, I do. Seriously, the reason I wanted to meet up with you is because I’d like for us to collaborate musically. Would you be interested? I realize you’re on tour, but we can get together when you take a break or something. I’d love to sit down, and brain storm, see what we might create.”

  “Yes, I certainly am.”

  “Terrific, how about our people talk and make arrangements?”

  “Instruct your guys to call Zara directly as the band isn’t involved in this. She used to be my manager and publicist.”

  “Yes, I remember.” He turns toward me as he continues, “You’re quite good. John here will give you all the numbers, and such and you can do the same.” He motions his head in the direction of a man standing at the doorway with Red. “Well then, I guess we‘re done. I’m looking forward to our next visit.” He gets up from his chair, shakes hands again with the two of us. He disappears into the bowels of the building. Amadeus and I are standing next to each other, trying to comprehend what just happened. I’m holding a business card containing information which promises to add another notch to Amadeus’ skyrocketing career belt.

  Our decision not to share our meeting of the night before with the members of Tudor Rose almost blows up in our faces. Word gets to them about it, and upon arrival at our next stop, they blindside Amadeus with bitchy comments and accusations. The subject has grown like a painful boil among them all day, and by the time they confront Amadeus the abscess has burst and the ugly puss flows freely. Amadeus stands his ground and squishes the scorpion quickly.

  “Look, I’ll tell you again, ya’ll chose to attend the party. Had you hung around you would have met him too. If I’d left with you, I would have missed him. Deal with it for God’s sake! Stop acting like a bunch of pathetic, jealous crybabies.”

  He turns and walks away knowing his anger is beginning to boil within, and any further discussion could only do harm. Taking hold of my arm he navigates us through the hotel corridors to our room.

  ******

  Seattle is just days out, which is significant, as it marks the halfway point of the tour. Everyone is ready for some R and R.

  The man I saw in L.A. hasn’t shown up at any of the concerts so far, but I am not letting my guard down. The incident at the house in Malibu has left me with an uncomfortable sense something else will happen, and when I encounter these feelings I listen to them.

  Tonight’s concert is going to be at an outdoor venue and logistically they can sometimes be difficult. Being outside there is no actual structure to protect anyone. The band has to use one of the buses for a dressing room and security has to be more vigilant as people always manage to find a way into the “backstage” area.

  Artie is joining us this evening. He called yesterday and said he needs some face time with everyone. It must be important, because he makes a point of only attending concerts at the larger venues. His unplanned visit is testing everyone. Tonight our hotel is booked to capacity due to other events in town. Artie is taking the spare room which happens to adjoin ours.

  We are just settling in when Artie knocks at the door joining the two rooms. We look at each other as Amadeus rolls his eyes and opens the door. Artie enters and says he’s having a meeting with the band shortly, but he wants to bring Amadeus up to speed beforehand. He plops down on one of the upholstered chairs in the room and places his case on the floor. He opens the case and brings out a legal document. I sit at the table and start making notes on Amadeus’ laptop that we’re now sharing. Amadeus pulls a chair up next to me as he indiscreetly eyes what I’m typing.

  Artie holds the paper up. “We’ve all expected this, so it should be of no surprise to anyone. Julia’s filed a suit prohibiting you, Amadeus, and Tudor Rose from performing any of Damien’s or Rypp Tyde’s songs.” Unfolding the papers, Amadeus, inspects the contents.

  The boys selected the play list for the evenings show, adding selections from their upcoming album as well as older songs the fans always clamor for. Since Damien’s stroke made it impossible for him to tour and his band, Rypp Tyde self-destructed, the group usually performs a couple of their tunes. But Julia, Damien’s wife is making a nightmare out of something which should be a non-issue.

  “A cease and desist order?” I ask.

  “Exactly,” Artie replies. “Like I said we‘ve been expecting this. I just wanted to personally come and tell you.”

  “Thanks,” Amadeus interjects. “I understand this, but at the same time, I don’t understand why Julia thinks she needs to take such drastic steps. Damien is in control of his mental faculties and can make his own decisions. The stroke left him physically impaired, not mentally.” He shakes his head and folds the document up before handing it on to me.

  “True,” Artie continues, “however, I have learned Julia has full control of Damien’s affairs, personal and professional.”

  “Well, we’ll just substitute our songs in place of Rypp Tyde’s, as we’d planned if this happened. Then I guess we need to sort this out with her.” Amadeus is staring at me.

  “Why don’t we make a point of going to visit Julia and Damien while we are in Seattle next week?” I reach out and squeeze Amadeus’ arm. He puts his hand over mine as I do. None of this is lost on Artie as I catch him out of the corner of my eye watching us.

  “Good idea Zara.” Artie replies. “Do you want me to set things up?”

  “No, I will, when we get to Seattle.” Amadeus interjects. “Maybe she‘ll be more receptive if a family member calls her. On the other hand, she may not respond to such a gesture, no matter who calls.”

  “He’s right, Artie,” I point out.

  “Yes, okay, we’ll do things your way Amadeus. The boys should be in my room shortly.” With our business finished Artie leaves us, and Amadeus walks over and locks the door.

  ******

  Did I mention that I hate outdoor events? The
y‘re usually hot and humid. I’m standing outside getting some fresh air. A couple of the boys are smokers and do so inside, the smoke is thick, making breathing difficult. I’m people watching when I spot him. The man from L.A.! He’s mingling in the backstage area. I see he’s got a pass attached to his shirt, which allows him, access. I don’t react, I continue to stand as I have been, but I’m watching his every move now. How did he get a pass? The door opens and everyone comes out, they’re up next. The sudden movement of everyone exiting the coach interrupts any train of thought I hold, and I miss him. I struggle to find him again. Amadeus walks up beside me, putting his arm around me, staring in the direction I‘m focused on.

  “Who are you trying to find?” he asks, leading me away.

  “No one, I guess I was mistaken.”

  We head toward the stage area, still in the process of being changed over. Amadeus and Tudor Rose are in one area talking with some local media relations. I walk over to the side, so I can look at the crowd. What I observe stuns me. Artie is standing in the front area cordoned off for VIPs talking to the stranger from L.A.! I can’t tell from the area I’m in if he’s spotted him and approached him or what. No, he’s acting way too familiar to be confronting the man. His body language indicates the two men are not strangers. They both seem quite comfortable talking. I decide to tell no one. I want to see if Artie mentions this.

  Artie makes his way to the boys just before they hit the stage and gives them his usual manager pep talk when he‘s about. As the band is being announced, Amadeus strolls over to me and kisses me on the lips for what seems to be an eternity. He winks at me as he walks away. Artie doesn’t say a thing either about the kiss or our person of interest I spied him talking to earlier. He’s running around to check on things during the show. The bright lights are blinding, making zeroing in on the mystery villain difficult

  Red approaches me toward the end of the boys set.

  “Having a good time, Zara? Act normal when I tell you what I‘m about to. The guy from L.A.? I spotted him plus I have seen Artie with him.”

  “Same here and Artie hasn’t mentioned running into him.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Keep an eye on them. Amadeus is my main concern. I’ll try to discourage the after party.”

  “What if he insists on going? He doesn’t like them, but he will make an appearance to humor people.”

  “I guess we let him go and stay vigilant.”

  Red nods as he responds to someone on his radio questioning a person’s credentials and walks off.

  Once everyone is gathered up, we head back to our hotel. The after party is in one of the ballrooms, planned this way, so everyone can clean up before making their appearance. Amadeus is still charged up from the show. The adrenaline rush he gets from performing hasn’t slowed it and takes him a while to wind down. Before we disembark, Artie tells the guys what and who to expect, and as we’re walking inside I reach for Amadeus’ hand. He looks over at me smiling and squeezes back as we continue to walk.

  Alone in our room, I check for messages. Amadeus walks over, taking the phone from me. He places his hand on my cheek and bends over and kisses me, his mouth parts my lips as his tongue begins to explore and probe the inside of my mouth. I respond, kissing him back just as passionately, not wanting the moment to stop. He grabs hold of both shoulders afterwards and stares me squarely in theeye.

  “Zara, I’ve waited a long time to share my feelings with you. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

  I slowly nod my head, “Yes, I think so.”

  “Good,” he replies and kisses me as ardently as a moment ago. We stand holding on to each other as he whispers in my ear, “I love you Zara. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.” He’s kissing me, stroking my hair and cheek.

  I put my hand on his face as tears well up in my eyes. I don’t mean to get all emotional, but the game is lost.

  “I love you too. I’m sorry,” I reply, “I didn’t expect I would get so weepy.” I try to wipe the tears now coming on strong, but we are rudely brought back to reality by Artie’s pounding on the connecting door.

  “Fuck!” Amadeus mumbles under his breath. “What?”

  “Are you ready? You’re due at the party now.” Artie yells back through the locked door.

  “We’re on our way.”

  “You were supposed to have been there ten minutes ago Amadeus.”

  “I said we’re on our way, Artie.”

  Amadeus kisses me as he strokes my cheek. “How about we pick this up later?”

  I nod my head and cover his hand with mine.

  I make a decision. I am aware Red is unavailable, overseeing the equipment malfunction and may not get to the after party. I’m sure Amadeus is unaware of the evening’s findings. I decide I need to tell him about seeing the person of interest from L.A. and finding Artie with him.

  “What do you mean Artie was with him?”

  “They had a conversation and their actions weren’t that of two strangers.”

  “And?”

  “He was alone, no back up. What makes it odder Amadeus is that Artie hasn’t told Red nor me about this.”

  “Crap! Let’s go to this party and perhaps something will transpire. We’ll stay an hour at most. We check out who’s in the room and if you’re still uneasy we’ll leave.”

  “Fine.” I reply.

  “And Zara, don’t keep these things from me, I can help you better if I know what’s going on.”

  “I had no time earlier, but I will in the future,” I tell him.

  Some top executives from his label are in attendance at the party. Artie seemed no different than usual, paying close attention to the execs.

  I try to engage in conversation with all the people who come up to Amadeus, but I am constantly scanning the room for anything not right. He’s standing near the door. For the first time, he knows I’m aware of his presence. I don’t falter, I stay focused on him. I feel Amadeus’ arm around me as he bends down to talk to me. I forget how tall he is until we’re this close.

  “Zara, what? You seem distracted.”

  I start to show him, but he’s gone. I look around for him. If he’s still here, I can’t find him. I notice Red in the distance. I wave him over. The three of us agree that Amadeus should leave, but Amadeus acts as though he doesn‘t hear. He walks us over to the table the execs are at and sits down. I follow his cue. Red isn’t far off, looking around. Amadeus turns on the charm as he talks with the men. He makes an excuse as to why he’s retiring for the evening. Amadeus is one of their best money makers. We start to leave, Red accompanying us. Artie spots us and realizes what’s happening, but before he can try to stop us, we’re in the elevator.

  We lock ourselves in, waiting in case Artie comes after us. Amadeus alternates between pacing the floor and sitting at the table. Finally, he grabs a beer out of the mini bar and sits on the bed deep in thought. I go to the bathroom to remove my make-up. I take off my clothes, leaving on only my underwear. I find Amadeus in bed, bare chested, sound asleep. I climb in, snuggling against him.

  The next morning on the bus, I watch him napping in a chair. I make notes on what happened until my eyes are too heavy to go any further and I succumb to sleep, as well. Not long after a noise wakes me up. Amadeus is searching for who knows what, shuffling through papers and newspapers.

  “Maybe I can help you find whatever you’re making so much noise about.” He flashes me a smile. He knows I’m on to his plan to wake me.

  “Oh, I’m sorry love, did I disturb you?” He sits down beside me and kisses me. He notices the legal pad sitting on the table and picks the paper up. He scans the pages I’ve written.

  “I fell asleep before I could make any of those calls,” I explain. “Do you agree with me on this?”

  “Absolutely.”

  I call the detective in L.A. I want to know whether he’s come up with anything about our mystery man or who might have broken into
the house in Malibu. Plus I should fill him in on what happened yesterday. The other call I want to make is to Robert at the label to check in, to see if he’s aware of Julia’s law suit, and perhaps he can get someone to look in on Amadeus’ condo in Seattle and both of our places in Manhattan to make sure everything is as it should be. I don’t think I’m being paranoid.

  Amadeus gets comfortable at the table as I place the call. The phone is on speaker, so he can hear.

  The investigator informs me he tried to reach me through Artie because he had misplaced my number and he spoke with Artie each time. I might find that odd, if he had shared that with me before, but not now. We tell him what happened the night before, seeing Artie immersed in talks with our mystery man. He informs us they still have no clue who he is.

  Amadeus jumps into the conversation. “Any idea who broke into the house?”

  “Nothing so far,” he replies. “We’re checking local pawn shops for the lap top, but have come up empty.”

  The discussion ends with our detective assuring us that he will keep us apprised of anything he comes up with and promises to stay in touch.

  “Let’s see what’s shaking with Robert.”

  I punch in the numbers and put the phone back down. Robert is aware of Julia’s suit and that the legal department is on top of the matter. We share our plans regarding visiting Damien and Julia while we are in Seattle. He agrees a visit can‘t hurt. I tell him about Artie and his strange behavior. He doesn’t say anything for what seems like the longest time. He hasn’t had any contact with Artie, assuming that Artie had been on the road with us.

  “Robert, we would like it if you’d check our places in Manhattan.”

  “Right, of course. I should have done that all ready, Zara. I’ll get on it immediately.”

  “Thanks Robert,” Amadeus adds, winking at me.

  After much discussion between the three of us Robert asks us both if we’re comfortable staying out on tour. Amadeus doesn’t hesitate with his answer. “We’re two days out of Seattle Robert. We’ll be off for about a week. Why don’t you schedule a visit to Seattle?”