I’ve always believed in following my gut, but I haven’t been very good at listening to it until last night. I was in my first year as a novitiate at The Sisters of Mercy. It had taken me three years to get to that point. Through the entire process, my head pushed me along while my heart tugged me away. I’d always enjoyed helping others, and I believed a life of service could be my calling, but after one week into the program, I started to feel that sick feeling again. It was a feeling I’d learned to ignore every time my very strict, very Catholic parents pushed me toward celibacy and the life of prayer only the convent could offer. This time, with no one there to tell me to stay, the pull led me out the door in the middle of the night.
My parents had made it clear that becoming a nun was my destiny since I could walk and talk, but it was always their desire for me, never my own. After twenty-one years of doing only what they told me to, it feels amazing to make decisions for myself.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other and readjust the backpack on my arm. Gazing right and left, I notice I’m on a main road with more traffic than I’d expect for a town in the middle of nowhere on a Thursday afternoon. Where am I anyway? I’d been on the bus forever and I have a habit of getting lost in my thoughts. I should have listened to the bus driver when he was calling out stops. I can hear my mother’s voice in my ear as if she was standing beside me. Bring those feet down to Earth, Blaire Barton. Stop that daydreaming and pay attention.
Taking in my surroundings, I notice an elderly gentleman holding a plastic bag shuffling toward me. I smile as his eyes meet mine.
“Excuse me, sir. I just got off the bus and have no idea where I am. What’s the name of this town?”
He stops and moves his dentures around in his mouth. “You’re in Kane. Welcome to the shithole. You should have kept going.”
His swearing and warning takes me aback. I watch him walk past me.
I’d never heard of Kane, but then again, I’d never been anywhere other than my farm in my very small town and the convent. I’d always dreamed of adventure. Why now that I’m in the middle of one, do I feel so afraid? I wonder if I should go to the church and pray on it. Like an answer to my question, a single drop of rain lands on my nose. It’s going to be a downpour and I need to go somewhere before it hits, so why not the church? The June heat is making me sweat and the cool rain would feel amazing, but I’m wearing a button-down white blouse with my long black skirt. White and water don’t mix.
I quickly cross the street as the drops come faster and harder. I reach for the door handle and rush in through the double doors just as it starts to pour. I laugh lightly out of pleasure knowing I’d beat it as I tighten the bobby pins in my hair bun. Lord help me, I do like to win.
Staring out the small window of the church door, the clearing of a throat refocuses my attention. I turn and gasp.
“Are you here for the interview?”
A woman with long red hair stands in front of me. She has a tattoo of a snake down her left arm, a rose on her right, and an earring in her nose. She’s holding an iPhone in her hand and begins to type a message as she speaks.
“You’re late. Geoff told me you’d be here an hour ago. Tardiness is unacceptable. Good thing Nadia isn’t here. I’m a lot more forgiving than she is.”
I’m certain my mouth is hanging open as I tilt my head to the side to get a look around her. There’s a huge bar in the center of the church where the pews should be.
“You’re cute in a plain, simple way,” she says as she stares me up and down. “Not what I was expecting, no offense. Geoff has a tendency to recommend girls with tits larger than their brains and caked-on makeup.” She takes a step closer and gets in my face. “You aren’t even wearing makeup, are you?”
I shake my head and she smiles. Her eyes land on my breasts. Rock music starts to play over the speakers and her volume adjusts along with it.
“What are you, a 36C?”
Before I can respond, she continues. “You’ll fill out the uniform nicely. You’re different and surprisingly, that works in your favor. Too much of the same thing gets boring and we need some new blood around here to spice things up. You look like you were made to wear a Catholic schoolgirl uniform.” She chuckles. “Anyway, follow me.”
She turns on her heel and walks toward the front of the church, or whatever this is. Sliding my backpack down my arm, I take a few steps forward and gaze up at the images etched on the ceiling. God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost gaze down upon me. It looks like a church, but it doesn’t feel like one. There’s a large circular bar in the center with blue bar stools surrounding it. There are small tables on each side near large stained glass windows depicting scenes from the Bible. The storm outside provides very little natural light and makes the glass appear foreboding and eerie with deep shades of blue casting a blue tint throughout the old church. People are running around, moving tables and cleaning floors. There’s a second story with wooden railings and more tables upstairs.
Someone shouts, “Turn the lights on. I can’t see what I’m cleaning.”
With a loud clunking sound, the lights come on and illuminate all the intricacies of the space. Who would turn such a holy establishment into a bar? That has to be blasphemy, doesn’t it? Taking a step forward and lifting my head, I notice a large stage has replaced the area upstairs where the church choir might have been. Blue and red floodlights shine on the walls. I’ve never seen anything like it. Where the devil am I?
“Hey!” The red-headed woman yells. “You coming? We have a lot of work to do if we’re going to get you ready for tonight.”
“Umm, miss? I think there’s been some kind of mistake.”
I’m not sure she can hear me over the music and the chatter of people working, so I pull my suitcase behind me and follow her.
She’s writing on a clipboard when I catch up to her. “How much waitressing experience do you have?” Before I can answer, she reaches out and takes my hand. “Hmm… callouses. Could Geoff have actually sent me someone who understands hard work instead of hard-ons?”
My eyebrows furrow.
“No offense to strippers. You work your asses off. What’s your name?”
“Blaire. But I’m not a stripper. Actually, I…”
“Hey Jimmy,” she shouts. A blond man standing on a ladder dusting the railings looks down at her. “When you’re done polishing the banister, make me a name tag that says Blaire.”
“How do you spell it?” he asks.
She glances at me. When I don’t respond she motions toward Jimmy for me to answer him.
“B-L-A-I-R-E,” I shout to him. “But I don’t need a name tag.”
“We all wear them. You have to have one. Boss insists.”
“Wait. Stop. Please!”
She pauses and eyes me skeptically. “I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. I’m not here for a job. I just got off a bus from Carpenter. I actually came in here to pray. I thought it was a church.”
She places her hands on her hips. “Geoff didn’t send you?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Shit! Now what am I going to do?” She places her hands on top of her head. “I am so sorry. I just assumed.”
“It’s okay, really. I’m used to people making assumptions about me.”
“My brain is mush. We all worked until three a.m. last night and had to be back here to get ready for tonight at the butt crack of dawn. I didn’t give you a chance to talk, did I? I have a bad habit of that. I bet I didn’t even introduce myself.”
I shrug politely. She reaches her hand out to me. “I’m Patti O’Leary. Nice to meet you, Blaire.”
I shake her hand and smile.
“I should have known by looking at you that you’re not from around here. We’re all freaking out because the bar owner is coming in tonight and one of our girls quit at the last minute. We’re expecting a huge crowd and we’re short-staffed. Nadia, the manager, to
ld me to get a replacement fast. She never lets me hire people and if I don’t get someone to work tonight, she might never put me in charge again. Nadia is a bitch and a half.”
I nod my head and reach to touch her arm. “I’m sure things will work out. You seem to really care, and when you invest so much in something you love, God always provides.”
She studies me for a moment. “You said you just got off a bus from Carpenter. Is it safe to assume you might be in town for a while? Maybe visiting someone?”
“Not exactly. Do you want the short version?”
Patti nods.
“I followed my gut and hopped on a bus. I felt a pull to this church, but I have no idea where I’m even going to stay tonight. I don’t know anyone.”
She tugs at her bottom lip. “You know me.”
I laugh lightly.
“I have a deal for you.”
“A deal?” I question.
“If you’ll consider working here tonight―just one night, I’ll let you stay at my place until you find somewhere to live.”
My eyes widen. “That’s really generous of you, but I’ve never waitressed a day in my life and the truth is, I just left the…”
“I’ll train you. I’ll give you all the easy tables and I’ll be here the whole night to help you. Please? I’m begging you. You just said good things always happen when you care, right? Well what if God sent you here to help me? If you believe in God and all that stuff.”
All that stuff? Oh dear. My heart flutters. She works in a church and isn’t a believer? Well, I guess technically this isn’t a church. I did feel a pull to stop here. Maybe God does want me to help her.
“Please, Blaire! Say yes. Please say yes.”
I sigh heavily as I stare at her. If I’ve been taught anything, it’s to never turn your back on someone who needs you. And what other choice do I have? I have no money and nowhere to stay. God did provide. Maybe there’s a reason I’m here. I listen to my gut. “Sure, why not.”
Patti hugs me tightly. “Welcome to Miracles.”
Lucian
Checking the dashboard clock, I smirk knowing I’m making really good time. My manager, Dave, was pissed off when I told him I wanted to drive home rather than fly, but I rarely get any time to myself, and I wanted this time to think. And what good is having a Porsche if you never get to drive it?
Yes, it was a long trip from New York back to my hometown, but I’d been neglecting the bar ever since I’d gone solo, and I wanted to check in. Plus, once word spread I was coming, the bar had more reservations than it could handle. Having me there is good for business. We’ll be at full capacity tonight and all eyes will be on me, just the way I like it.
Separating Kane from Abel was one of the smartest decisions I’ve ever made in my career. I was sick to death of Abel trying to tell me what to do. When we first started the band, we both wanted the same things. Now I wanted more pussy and he just wanted to be one.
Adjusting the sunglasses on my face, I decide to remove them. The sun is going down and I want to see everything when I pull in. I grin as I contemplate my success versus Abel’s. My solo sales are far better than his since we broke up. He’d better not be there begging me to come back. It’s my bar, not his, and the last thing I want is him riding my coattails once more. Truthfully, I hope I never ever see him again. You could say we ended things poorly, and by poorly, I mean with my fist in his face.
I’m sure it sucked for him when our fans flocked to me. But they love the bad boy and I fit that image to a T. I’d never measured up to what Abel wanted of me or for me, but fuck him. I’m done being pushed around. Knowing him the way I do, he has to hate that my demons are far more interesting than his sainthood.
Abel was the light to my dark. That worked for a while, but we were too different for it to make sense as we grew older. Why it took us seven years to realize that is a mystery. In a year and a half, I’ll be thirty. It’s time I do what’s best for me. I snicker to myself. Who am I kidding? I’ve always done what’s best for me. It’s why I’m successful. You don’t get anywhere in life by putting anyone above yourself. I learned that lesson a long time ago.
It’s almost eight p.m. when I get off the expressway. Reducing speed, I turn down “Come & Go” by Juice Wrld and pull over to take a quick pic of the sign. “You have now entered Kane.” Ahh… there’s nothing like having a town named after you. The grin slowly slides off my face as I remember a time when this town had a different name. Back then, I was happily leaving it. Although it’s nice to visit the bar, this city still holds a lot of crappy memories for me. Maybe one day I won’t remember them anymore.
My phone pings and pulls me out of my thoughts. I decide to check texts before continuing on my way. The newest is from my mother.
Mom: Please tell me you’ll at least stop by while you’re in town. We need to talk.
Delete.
The next is from Dave.
Dave: I’m here in the parking lot, waiting. What’s your ETA?
I text back.
Lucian: 5 minutes.
Then there’s one from Nadia. I don’t even bother to read it. I can already imagine what it says. I’ll deal with her soon enough.
I pull back onto the road and drive toward Miracles. The lot is packed. When I pull in, I see Jimmy outside the garage, waiting next to Dave.
The few times I’ve driven while in town, I learned the hard way that I needed a safe place to park. There’s always some asshole who comes to the bar to give me shit. It never fails. The last time I drove, “You Suck” was keyed into my driver’s side door. After that, I had the garage built with an alarm system to avoid insurance claims. I may be rich, but I don’t like paying for other people’s stupidity.
I toss Jimmy the keys and point my finger at him. “Not a scratch. You hear me?”
Jimmy nods and I pat him on the back as he gets in the car.
Dave grabs my leather jacket out of my hands so I can get myself together. He knows me.
“I told you to fly. I had an hour and a half flight and a nap.” Dave sniffs me. “And a shower.”
“Are you insinuating I stink because I drove? I did stop for the night. I showered.”
Dave sniffs me again.
“Get the fuck away from me.” I laugh as I push him away.
“You still smell like money. You just can’t wash that shit off.”
I snicker as I scrub my fingers over the too-long stubble on my face. “Always have, always will.”
We slowly walk toward the bar and I tuck in my t-shirt.
“I spoke to Nadia. We have your table all set up in your corner upstairs and there’s a bottle of Johnnie Walker whiskey waiting for you.”
I run my fingers through my hair. He hands me my jacket as I adjust the rings on my fingers. I slide it over my arms and push up the sleeves. “How do I look?”
“Do you want me to pretend I’m gay to answer that?”
“Yeah. If you were gay, Dave, how would I look?”
“You look like every girl’s wet dream. I’m sure you’ll have your pick of women as usual.”
I smirk. There are many perks to being a famous rock-star, but the casual sex is by far one of my favorites.
There’s a crowd outside the bar. My two biggest bouncers are there to make a path for me. The cameras flash. Cards, t-shirts, and magazines are shoved at me from every direction. I sign a couple of things and pose for a quick photo before stepping inside.
I can’t help but smile when I enter. I used to attend church here when my parents forced me as a little kid. As attendance dwindled over the years so did the structure. It was all but condemned when I purchased it and had it restored. It’s always felt like home to me in a twisted way. I liked the idea of making something that used to be good into something so bad. It was a metaphor for who I’d become.
People stare as I enter, but no one approaches me. It’s a known rule. While I like attention, I also want to be free to drink and enjoy myself witho
ut signing my life away. I always leave time for that before the evening ends.
“It’s about time you showed up.”
I hear her before I see her.
“Hey babe. How are you?” I say as I meet her gaze. Her hair is longer and a different color, but the scowl on her face is exactly the same.
She lightly kisses my cheek. “First of all, I haven’t been your babe in over a year and secondly, do you not know how to respond to texts?”
I take a deep breath and blow it out my nostrils to calm myself. Dating the manager of my bar was a big mistake. If Nadia wasn’t so damn efficient, I might have fired her after we ended things. But she knows me and what I want in every area except relationships, so I keep her around.
“I’m here now. What do you need?”
“Are you doing a set tonight?”
“Nope.”
“Why the fuck not? Do you know how many people came to hear you?”
Dave steps in between us. “I’m doing fine, Nadia. How are you?”
“Not now, Dave. I asked him a question.”
“And you seem to forget who owns this bar. I said I’m not singing tonight and that’s final. I drove and I’m tired. I want a steak and a drink. I’ll sign shit and take photos for an extra hour.”
She sighs loudly. “Fine. I’ll take you upstairs to your table.”
“Umm Nadia?” A busboy taps her on the shoulder. “One of the cooks burned their finger. Patti told me to get you. What should we do?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake. I’ll be right back to take you upstairs. Just give me a minute.”
“I can find my way. Go,” I say, motioning to her.
“Suit yourself.”
“She’s a damn viper. Why do you keep her around?” Dave asks as she struts away.
She turns and walks backward. “I can still hear you.”
Dave shrugs apologetically and I laugh. I know he meant every word.
“Should we head upstairs?”
A loud noise draws my attention to the far side of the bar. There are shattered glasses on the floor. A tray rolls toward the wall. A young waitress with her hair in a tight bun attempts to chase the rolling tray and it makes me snicker. She pulls at the hem of her schoolgirl uniform as she tries to bend to get it without exposing herself. I didn’t design those uniforms to encourage modesty, so I find myself watching her struggle and enjoying every second of it. She’s clearly uncomfortable.
My Night with a Rockstar Page 9