To the right of the front door, stairs disappeared up toward Roxanne’s domain. Halfway up, she’d placed a loveseat in a small landing, and from there it took a few more strides to get to her master suite. Large towering windows spanned the far wall and filtered sunshine over the king-size bed. On the opposite side of the room a closet and a dressing area led into the condominium’s best feature, a Romanesque-styled bathroom complete with an oversized Jacuzzi tub.
It took the girls a couple of weeks to settle in, then Candy proceeded to badger Roxanne until she agreed to call Frank.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Roxanne fiddled with the napkin Frank had written his number on at the bar, and tried to convince herself to pick up the phone. What if he’d lost interest? Or worse yet, what if he didn’t remember her? She considered the odds of whether or not Candy would believe that. In the end, Roxanne decided Candy wouldn’t be satisfied until she had thoroughly humiliated herself. Roxanne gathered the courage to dial the number on the napkin.
The butterflies began to stir.
“Hello…” A deep voice answered the phone, but Roxanne knew it wasn’t Frank.
“Hi.” She swallowed hard as the butterflies began to flutter about. “Is Frank there?”
“Sure,” he said. “Can I say who’s calling?”
“Yes.” Roxanne remembered how Frank had wanted to call her Roxie. “It’s Roxie.”
“You’re real...?” His disbelief reached across the wire. “I was beginning to think he was losing it. But you’re real.”
“Well of course I’m real.”
“Hold on.”
Silence crowded the next few seconds and it dragged on for what seemed an eternity, until she heard Frank say, “Roxie?”
His voice calmed the butterflies.
“I hope I’m not calling at a bad time,” she said.
“No, not at all.” He quickly offered reassurance. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to call me though.”
“Sorry about that,” she said, “but we’ve been really busy.”
“Getting a place to live, I hope.”
“As a matter of fact, we did.”
“That’s good news.” Relief poured out in his tone. “I was hoping you weren’t calling to say goodbye,” he said with a bit of nervous laughter. “Think you and Candy might want to come see my band play this evening?”
“I’d like that,” she said, elated that he still wanted to see her.
At a quarter till seven the doorbell rang. Candy had hot rollers in her hair and she was in the midst of putting on her makeup.
Damn. She should probably get it since it was doubtful that Roxanne was ready. Candy couldn’t care less if Frank saw her like this. “I got it!” she yelled, heading for the door.
Candy expected to see Frank standing outside the door. She also expected him to be alone, but he wasn’t. She slammed the door.
“Candy...?” Frank’s voice filtered in as he pounded on the door. “Open up.”
She leaned against the door. “Frank. Count to ten. Then you can come inside.” Candy made a mad dash for her bedroom.
Frank opened the door carefully and peered in. “Candy?”
Nothing. It was quiet and still. He pushed the door open and cautiously stepped inside. “Come on, Rich,” he said to his friend.
Frank stopped just inside the doorway. Rich paused at his side. “Got yourself a rich girl, huh Frank?”
“She’s not rich.” Frank shook his head. He had no facts to go on. It was just a feeling.
“This place belongs to a rich person,” Rich said, looking around.
Frank glanced at Rich and frowned. Intuitively, he knew he’d find Roxanne upstairs. “Wait here,” he said to Rich and took the steps two at a time. Halfway up, he saw the loveseat and sat down. For some reason—and why, he couldn’t explain—giving Roxanne the chance to come out seemed like a really good idea.
Frank, a gentleman? Who knew?
What the hell, Rich decided he’d go find the mystery girl. She hadn’t exactly been thrilled to see him standing behind Frank, but Rich was never one to back down from a challenge. And she was just his type—a pretty blonde with nice legs and a great rack.
He headed into the hallway off the kitchen and opened the door on the right. An empty room.
Rich glanced farther down the passage and saw two more doors, one on each side. The one on the left was closer and slightly ajar, so he opted to try it. He tapped on the door, but got no response. So, being an adventurous guy, he opened it enough to stick his head inside. “Hey, lady?” he called out playfully.
Another door slammed shut.
With a surplus of confidence, Rich went to the closed door inside the bedroom. “Hey, lady?” he called out lightheartedly. The door obviously led to the bathroom, and therefore, she’d cornered herself. “You got any more doors in there to slam in my face?” He laughed softly, amusing himself if no one else.
“Who are you?” Her sharp tone traveled through the door.
“Rich.” He tried not to laugh, but it was hard.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, still through the door.
“Hey look,” he said. “Can’t you at least come out here and give me the third degree face to face?” He turned away from the door and rolled his gaze around the room. “Am I that ugly?”
The door swung open and her finger flew up in his face. “You know,” she said in a scolding tone, “you got a lot of nerve—”
Candy stopped mid-sentence. Every word had abandoned her.
He wasn’t ugly at all. A wild mane of golden ringlets hung down just past his shoulders and filled her mind with thoughts of tangling it in her hands in the heat of the moment. Sable eyes, dangerously alluring, appeared to emit sparks of fire and electricity, snagging what little sensibility she had left.
Candy was impressed.
Frank fidgeted, still sitting on the loveseat halfway up the stairs. His anticipation was about to get the better of him. He’d waited long enough to see her. “Roxie…”
Instantly, she appeared at the top of the stairs. When their eyes met, she smiled.
He stood. “Hi.”
“I’m almost ready,” she said. “Come on up.”
Frank sprinted up the stairs and stopped inside the doorway, looking around. “This is a really nice place you got here.” He sat in the chair next to the door. “I wasn’t aware they rented them out,” he added, offhandedly. Fishing for information hadn’t been his intention.
“They don’t.” She disappeared through a door on the far side of the room.
Frank got up and followed her. Even though the evidence was mounting suggesting otherwise, she didn’t seem like the type that’d been bred with money. He’d known some trust-fund debs in his day, but she didn’t have that superior air about her. No—there was only one way a girl like Roxanne could come by a place like this. He didn’t want to believe that either.
“This may be none of my business,” he said, “but how did you come by this place?”
She saw the confusion on his face, although she didn’t understand it. “I…ah…I inherited some money from a death in the family.” Roxanne told the truth, in a roundabout way. She looked around the room. “This place took almost all of it,” she said with a shrug and a smile.
“I’m sorry about the death.”
“Thanks.” She looked away and went back to adding the finishing touches to her makeup and hair.
Maybe she should have told him about Chuck right then and there. But she didn’t want to think about Chuck anymore. The only thing she wanted to concern herself with now was Frank Garrett.
***
Chapter 3
That evening, Frank’s band was scheduled to play at a club called Mark Twain. He, Roxanne, Rich, and Candy arrived at the already crowded bar a little past nine. The locals loved Garrett-Hollander and when they played anywhere in Tampa Bay their fans packed the clubs.
Frank took Roxanne’s hand and
led her proudly through the mass of people. Many women in the crowd stared with stunned looks. Their reactions didn’t surprise or bother him. He’d never walked into a club with a girl on his arm. Now walking out with a girl—that was a different story. But bringing a chick with him had never been a consideration. That was too much like a date. Not to mention that it would tie him to her for the entire evening.
The band’s groupies quickly did away with any bewilderment they’d felt as their frustration turned, almost instantly, into nasty looks that were directed first at Roxanne and then Candy.
As they passed by the waiting crowd, Roxanne was too naïve to realize what was going on and failed to see the imaginary daggers shooting out from the eyes of Frank’s spurned and would-be lovers.
Candy, on the other hand, knew exactly what was happening. She held tight to Rich’s hand as they made their way through the crowd. Candy knew she and Roxanne were the envy of every woman there simply because they were with the band.
Inside the dressing room, Roxanne and Candy met three of the other four guys in the band. Bobby, Ronnie and Mike. It didn’t take long for the fourth and final member Glen to walk through the door with a very pretty girl on his arm. Her long red hair seemed to brighten her green eyes that sparkled with the color of jade. Roxanne and Candy soon learned she was Glen’s wife Glenna.
“Hi.” Glenna flashed a friendly smile at the girls and then turned to Frank. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll take good care of them while you’re on stage.”
“You better,” he said.
Glenna turned to her husband. “You’ve got work to do.” She gave him a quick kiss. “I’ll just go ahead and take Roxie and Candy out to the bar. We’ll get ourselves a drink.”
“Glenna,” Rich said. “Don’t go telling them any wild stories about us, okay?”
“Rich.” Glenna laughed. “Trust me.”
Glenna was elated to have someone to sit with besides the groupies who’d gather around her once they found out she was with the band. But she knew this was different. Frank had already given the band fair warning to be on their best behavior. He didn’t want anybody doing or saying anything to upset Roxanne.
Frank turned to Roxanne, resting his hands on her shoulders. “Go on out there with Glenna.” He gave her a wink and a smile that turned up one side of his lip. His hands slid down her arms and his fingers tangled around hers. “I’ll see you during the break.”
“Okay,” Roxanne said, totally under his spell. His lips brushed against her cheek. Chills whipped through her unexpectedly, leaving her dripping with desire.
“Now you fellas play pretty for us,” Glenna said as she, Roxanne, and Candy left the dressing room.
Moments later, the band ascended the stage—everybody except Frank and Rich. Curiosity swept over Roxanne and she let her eyes searched the hallway leading back to the dressing room. It was empty, at least of the one person she was looking for. Frank. She paid little attention to the other band members as they filtered out among the drums, microphones, and keyboards.
The crowd cheered. A few loud chords thundered through the club and Glen pounded out a drum roll. The locals celebrated louder, as if they knew Frank and Rich would be out soon.
When it did happen—when Frank and Rich finally emerged in two separate spotlights—the crowd went wild. Frank straightened his guitar strap and then stepped up to the microphone.
Rich teased the fans with a little riff of something that sounded a lot like J. Geils.
Admiration engulfed Roxanne as she zeroed in on Frank. He adjusted his microphone and rested his hands on his guitar. A strange silence fell over the crowd. She heard Glen’s drumsticks clicking as if chanting: one, two, three. And then, in perfect harmony, the band dove full-throttle into some April Wine.
Frank started singing and Roxanne knew for sure that her heart had abandoned her.
Hours later, after Frank announced last call, Glenna hopped off her bar stool and looked at Roxanne and Candy. “Come on, let’s go back to the dressing room.”
Roxanne and Candy glanced at each other, then followed Glenna back to the empty dressing room. Glenna took a seat and they did the same. She dug around in her purse and came out with a joint and fired it up. After taking a couple of hits, she passed it to Candy.
Candy took it, toked on it and passed it to Roxanne.
Roxanne wasn’t sure what to do. She hadn’t smoked any weed since they’d left Tennessee.
Oh, well… She gave in to temptation and took the joint from Candy. Besides, what could it hurt?
After a few hits, Glenna left the joint to her newfound friends and concentrated on a tote bag sitting in a corner near the door. She took out a handful of towels, a blow dryer, and a brush. She put the towels on the counter near the door, plugged the hair dryer into a nearby outlet and waited with it in one hand and the brush in the other.
What the hell was she doing? Roxanne looked at Candy, and then at the towels sitting by the door. She had no idea what they were for, or what Glenna was seemingly waiting for, and she doubted Candy did either.
Her questions were answered when the band filed into the dressing room. Each one grabbed a towel and used it to soak up the moisture from their sweat-drenched hair and faces. Glen dropped into the seat in front of Glenna and she began drying his hair.
Frank ignored everyone in the room except Roxanne—that included several groupies who’d been vying desperately all evening for his attention. Instead of making them perform for his affection, as he would’ve done on any other night before this one, he pulled a chair up in front of Roxanne, turned it around backward and sat down facing her.
He took the towel to his damp hair, swabbing out some of the moisture. His thoughts settled around her beauty. Her eyes sparkled with the color of purple African violets. Frank had never seen anything like it. He leaned forward and bent sideways to look at her eyes from the side.
“What?” she asked curiously.
“Are you wearing contacts?” It had to be an enhancement. How could anybody’s eyes be that color naturally? He’d seen a lot of girls in his day, and he’d never seen eyes like these.
“No.” She shook her head.
“Hey, Frank…” Rich’s voice infiltrated his thoughts. “Earth to Frank!”
“What?” Frank said abruptly, his eyes never leaving Roxanne’s face.
“Candy wants to get something to eat. You and Roxie want to come too?” Rich’s words came across as a real invitation but Frank knew better. Rich wanted nothing more than to get Candy alone.
“How about it, Roxie?” Frank reached for her hands and entwined his fingers around hers. “You hungry?” he asked, even though it’d irritate Rich, but maybe she wanted something to eat.
Rich was thankful Roxanne had declined to join him and Candy for breakfast. They ran by the apartment and grabbed Rich’s car. Normally, he would’ve coaxed the girl up to his bedroom and forgot about feeding her, but there was something about Candy.
Her long hair was gold, like the morning sun. Her eyes were as green as emeralds. Pretty, in a bright cheery sort of way, she seemed to radiate electricity. She said exactly what was on her mind. And she’d ordered a smorgasbord of food that was now laid out in front of her. She had no qualms about eating it either. Rich found petite little Candy and her frankness utterly fascinating.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Tennessee,” she said. “And where are you from?”
“Right here.”
“Born at Denny’s, huh?”
“Although it would be a great honor—” He played along. “—I cannot boast that privilege honestly.” The urge to laugh was too strong, even though he was the butt of the joke.
“You can take a joke,” she said. “I like that.”
“How old are you?” he dove back into his desire to know her better.
“Nineteen,” she said. “And how old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Jeez you�
��re old,” she said with such a straight face that it almost hid her inner laughter.
“Who’s older anyway?”
“You are.” She giggled.
“No…” He was unable to contain the urge to laugh that’d been lingering around for some time. “I mean you and Roxie.”
Crazy For You Page 3