While a warm mist drifts in on the shadows.
Love, be good to me tonight!
“Come here and let me kiss you,
We’ll drink champagne and I’ll hold you tight.
We’ll feed all our hunger and quench all our thirst.
Love, be good to me tonight!”
Her guitar moaned then with all the passion she felt and she knew she played to Damien as well as to Bretta. Damien who believed in passion as she had once felt free to believe in it. Damien who believed in her.
“We had it all, but we lost it.
Now we are back to stay.
Unlike the past, we’ll make it last,
This time forever and a day.
“We are so close to heaven.
With you the world seems right.
I could die happy, but I’ll live happy.
Love, be good to me tonight!”
Cries of pure joy swept the crowd and they rattled and waved sheets of paper printed with the words of various songs Stevie would sing this night. Ron was at the top of his game. He drank too much and he seemed aimless, but his hands and his heart carried genius. He had been offered more than one gig with a name band and he’d refused and hung around Nashville. Lord knows for what.
“Hey, Stevie,” came from a man in the crowd. “What you been writing while you were away from us?”
Stevie laughed then and turned to Ron. She and Ron had been practicing afternoons at Club Insomnia. Now she told him, “Hit it for ‘I Love You When You Shake It Like That.’”
Ron hit it with a vengeance and the crowd swayed and shook their shoulders crying, “Yeah, baby, yeah! Sing it, Mama!”
“I love you when you shake it like that.
I was leaving. I was gettin’my hat.
But you began to move up and down.
Your rhythm—it just turned me around.
“You’re my film and I’m your Fotomat.
We make perfect pictures when you
Shake it like that!”
As much as they loved Stevie’s country songs, they loved her rhythm and blues even more. And Stevie did them all. Country. Pop. Rhythm and blues. Hymns. She was multi-talented in music and she blessed it all with her gifts.
“Baby girl, you’ve come home!” a woman yelled, overcome with pleasure.
Ron wiped the sweat from his brow, grinned and saluted. Then he got up and bowed low to Stevie, grabbed her hand and kissed it. And standing in the back of the room Damien felt a mellow glow of pure pride settle on him and he wondered at what he was feeling. But a fear at least as deep as the fear Stevie crushed within her regarding Jake now crushed his heart. It was one thing to be hurt; entirely something else to be devastated. And death had stared him hard in the face when Honi had betrayed and left him. No, he wasn’t going there again. Not now; maybe not ever.
Stevie rested a few minutes before she got up and circulated among the revelers. Hugs and kisses and congratulations on losing nothing was what she got from the crowd. Damien found himself wanting to hug and kiss her as they did and his groin hurt with wanting her.
Ben and Cina had ringside seats. Stevie had seen to that. They stood and she hugged them. Ben shook his head. “Singing good and looking better.”
Over near the bar Detective Rollins and his wife Eileen sat with their multicultural party—another older white couple, a Latino couple and a black couple. Stevie went to the table and greeted them. She had met Eileen before, but not the others. Now Detective Rollins introduced her.
“You’re at your best tonight,” Eileen said, and her husband agreed. The others nodded their agreement.
“Thank you,” Stevie said simply. “Tonight I’m singing for Bretta.”
The people at the table nodded. There were few in Nashville who didn’t know about the murder.
Eileen cleared her throat. “Murder is always a horrific business. I’m glad we have so few cold cases. I’ve gone back part-time for a while and I’ll be working on it.” She had spent several years with the Sheriff’s Department before she married Detective Rollins.
Detective Rollins chuckled and asked wryly, “You singing ‘I Don’t Need You Anymore’ tonight?”
Stevie raised her eyebrows as she looked at him. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
They both were looking over at Jake’s table where he sat with his lawyer and bodyguard and a good-looking, flashily dressed woman Stevie didn’t know.
Jake got up, calmly walked onstage and grabbed the microphone. He swayed with liquor as much as anything and his grin was wide and evil.
“So the Queen of Passion is back,” he growled. “When I had her, that title sure fit. She nearly burned my house and me up with her fire. Now she’s flown my coop and I’m lonely. My bed is cold and I want her back, but she’s found herself another dude.”
The people in the room held their collective breath and a woman mumbled, “Dog. He don’t have to put Stevie’s business in the street.”
Still standing by the Rollins’s table, Stevie burned with anger. It had happened so many times before, and now she remembered.
With the whiskey running in his veins, Jake was all set to continue when a coldly furious Damien got onstage and cut the microphone off. “You’re embarrassing the lady,” he said evenly.
Damien towered over Jake, and Damien had had little to drink. “Don’t mess with my thunder,” Jake muttered. Then his voice got loud again. “You can’t kill a man for trying. A hot woman leaves you craving for more of what she’s got.” And he called out, “Stevie, come home!”
Damien collared him then and the cold fury with which he pulled Jake up frightened the drunken man. Damien’s calm eyes had become killer eyes; he was fit and ready to fight. Jake realized then that he was more inebriated than he’d thought.
Damien gripped Jake as he fiercely told him, “Don’t ever do this to Stevie again. I swear I’ll hurt you so bad you’ll never get over it.”
Alarmed, the bodyguard had come onstage. He touched Damien and Damien turned around to take him on. Jake threw his hands up. “No. Let it go, man. Steele’s gone crazy. Let’s get out of this damned place.”
But Jake and his party didn’t leave. Jake sat thinking that nobody ran Jake McGowan. He owned a rhythm-and-blues recording company and his name was well represented throughout the country. He was a mogul. He was rich and he backed down from no man. He ordered another round of drinks and dug in to wait for the dancing that would come later.
Stevie went back to her dressing room to freshen her makeup and Damien came after her and shut the door. “Are you all right?” he asked her.
“I’m…okay. Damien, that was a wonderful thing to do. Someday I surely hope I’m able to make all this up to you.”
“A simple kiss will do it for right now.”
“Take a couple. I feel generous. Six months ago something like what Jake just did would have shaken me to pieces. It has in the past. Now, you’re slowly freeing me. Out there tonight, I had more memories return of things Jake did to me—and to others.”
Damien thought the time for talking was over and he took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, loving the luscious lips and the way she clung to him. Her body against his was everything a woman’s body ought to be. He wanted to talk with her as much as he wanted to kiss her; he wanted the evening to be over and them to be home.
As his big hands stroked her back and held her into him, she shuddered the length of her body and kissed him harder. Taking his mouth away from hers for a few seconds he told her, “I’d take on the world if it’s going to get me kisses like that.”
Someone knocked then and Jessi and Ron came in, indignant.
“That bastard,” Ron said, then turned to Damien. “Man, I really admire your style.”
Jessi came to Stevie, hugged her. “I was worried, but you’re fine. One day Jake McGowan’s gonna get what’s coming to him. I love what you did to him, Damien. You made him look like a fool. I think he’ll think twice before
trying to humiliate Stevie again.”
Damien shrugged. “Nobody hurts Stevie while I’m around. Nobody.”
“Okay, y’all, we’re ready,” Stevie told them. “Tonight I’m gonna sing ‘I Don’t Need You Anymore’ like I’ve never sung it before. Are you with me, Ron?”
Ron rocked himself on his heels. “You bet I’m ready, Mama. Just lead me on.”
Back onstage, with the smooth tones of her guitar and Ron’s bass fiddle behind her, Stevie was all aglow. Her skin gleamed and she tossed her head as she announced what she would sing and she put her head a little to one side and began.
“I don’t need you anymore.
Don’t need the lies, don’t need the heartache.
Go on walk right out my door.
Ev’ry vow you’ve made’s a real fake.
“Don’t come back, or write or phone,
I can make it on my own.
And I don’t need you anymore…”
She had the crowd in the palms of her hands and Jake watched her with hate-filled eyes. One young man chortled loudly, “Sing it just for me, Mama. I’m listnin’. I’m listnin’.”
And an older woman took up the chant for a man she’d had to dump. “You wrote that song just for me, Stevie. You knew this time was coming. No, man, I don’t need you anymore. I did, but I don’t need you no more.”
The song and its meaning washed over Stevie and she felt it in her soul. She had written this song when she’d begun to have enough of Jake and his meanness.
“Think of all the tears I’ve tasted,
Begging for your crumbs of love.
Think of all the years I’ve wasted,
Seeing you as God above.”
And yes, she had worshipped Jake when she’d just begun to make it and he had pursued her with passion. He’d been big enough to let her record with Damien because hers were the type of songs Damien’s Nubian Gold did best. How could you know something would prove so wrong? It hadn’t taken long for things to begin to go haywire. But Stevie had her parents’ marriage as a beacon and she refused to believe she couldn’t save her own. So she’d stayed and stayed until Jake’s extra women were almost ordering her out of her own home. Even then, she hadn’t left, not until the battering had begun, and she knew she wasn’t taking that. He was older, wiser, smarter and until the end he showered her with material things. Cold things when she needed and wanted warmth.
Her heart and soul sparkled when she spoke the next words in a gripping mezzo-soprano.
“Now I’m out from under your cruel spell.
Your magic wand’s quit working,
So please listen to me well.”
Stevie’s voice then was exultant, triumphant with sheer exuberance.
“I don’t need you anymore!”
She sang it for all it was worth and it was worth plenty. Jake sat slouched down in his chair, morose and brooding.
She sang two more verses, with a chorus after each one and the crowd took on her mood of buoyancy and sheer joy.
“Yeah, freedom!” A woman shouted as Stevie spaced each word evenly. “I don’t need you anymore!”
The people in the room were having a lovefest and Stevie couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt better. Bretta would have loved this and Stevie murmured, “Rest in peace, little loved one. We’ll find whoever did this to you.” And she included herself amongst those who would find the perpetrator because she knew she would leave no stone unturned.
When she had finished and Ron was soaked in sweat, she bowed low and the crowd rose as one and surged to the stage, whistling and stamping their feet with love and passion.
“You’re my girl!” a man yelled. “You’ve always been my girl! You’ll always be my girl! Hey, I love my wife, but you’re my girl!”
And the man’s wife stood there grinning, saying, “She’s my girl, too. I think she’s wonderful.”
The tables were cleared, the grand old jukebox was turned on and the dancing began.
Some danced inside and some out on the lowlit marble pavilion outside.
Damien came to her. “Give me a chance to hold you.”
She nodded and went into his arms and her body fitted to his the way it always did. They hadn’t kissed often, but when they had it had been memorable. His face nestled against her cheek, and her perfume was turning him on in powerful waves. She felt the bulge of him against her and it set her on fire. In a room full of people they were alone.
Then that dance ended and Stevie saw that Detective Rollins and his wife danced nearby. “Would you like to change partners for a dance?” the detective asked.
Stevie and Damien both nodded and when the music started up again she moved into Detective Rollins’s arms. He proved a smooth dancer and she teased him. “You’ve got a lot of rhythm.”
“And I’m not supposed to?”
“Sure you are. Just teasing.”
“I wanted to tell you we’re turning everything upside down to find Bretta’s killer. We’ve got some good intelligence. How’s the memory?”
“It’s coming in amazingly well. I still see Dr. Winslow twice weekly. He tells me he’s never heard of a patient coming along more swiftly, and he thinks it’s because I’m so determined.”
“Still nothing about what happened that night she was killed?”
“No, nothing.”
And it made her sad wondering when she would remember. And what.
Chapter 9
As soon as they were in the house, Damien turned to Stevie. “You were on fire tonight, baby. I don’t think McGowan will ever be the same.”
“He had it coming. And you, my caveman.”
Damien grinned. “I’m gonna do something I’ve wanted to do all night.” He took her in his arms and kissed her gently when she was expecting passion.
“Is that the best you can do?” she teased him.
His look was somber. “Believe me, the way I feel, I could scorch you, but I hold back most of the time. I know the dynamite that’s there and I want you to get well before I sweep you off your feet. You sleepy?”
“Not even a little bit. Why?”
“Feel like us making a quick snack and talking?”
“Ummm, I’d love that. I’m all excited. I don’t think I can sleep.”
They went into the big kitchen and began to prepare club sandwiches of ham, cheese and turkey on toast and sugar-free hot chocolate. As they moved about, Stevie did happy dance steps with exaggerated rhythm as she popped her fingers and Damien watched her, his eyes lazily roving her body.
“Ah, hit it, Mama,” he encouraged. He was doing the chocolate and asked, “D’you want a marshmallow in your chocolate?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Sugar and I got a hostile divorce a while back when I was threatening diabetes. Now we don’t even speak. Chocolate is my only indulgence.”
Damien laughed. “You want the sugar substitute then?”
“Yeah. Good old Splenda. What would I do without it?”
Damien became thoughtful. “You know, Stevie, we’re comfortable together. Companionable. I’ve known old married couples who don’t meld the way we do.”
At the phrase old married couples, she thrilled.
“We really like each other,” she said, as they sat down and began to eat slowly. Reaching over a nearby table, she picked up a bowl of lowfat potato chips Cina had made and crunched into one. “Ummm good. You think Cina and Ben enjoyed the show?”
“They loved it, they told me.”
She sat reflecting that he hadn’t responded to her statement that they liked each other and she backed off to give him space.
He smiled at her and put a big hand over hers. “You said we like each other. My feelings go beyond that, Stevie. I respect you completely. You know, I don’t think most people know how important respect is. It can mean the difference between living and half living. In a great many cultures, there’s no word for love, but all cultures hold respect dear. I guess what I’m saying is yo
u’ve got to feel me coming on to you and you’ve got to wonder. What I’m feeling is real and good marriages have come from no more.
His eyes were steady, dreaming. “Do you insist on love, Stevie? God knows, like me, you were in love and got badly burned.” His leg touched hers and her body flamed. Why had he mentioned marriage? No woman was ever going to claim his heart again. She had nursed him through torment and her heart still went out to him. She wanted to tell him that with him she insisted on nothing. She just wanted to love him with all her heart.
“I don’t insist on anything anymore,” she said quietly. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I feel you getting closer to me all the time. I find myself thinking about you, feeling you when you’re not there. I want to protect you. I’m going to protect you. Tonight I could have killed McGowan because I knew how you were feeling and I know what he put you through in the past. You’ve been hurt enough, the same way I’ve been hurt enough.”
They had finished the snack and he began to stack the few dishes. She placed her hand over his. “You’re helping me to heal.” She hesitated before asking, “Don’t I help you at all?”
“You’d better believe you do. But I stared down death after Honi left and it terrifies me to think of going there again. I’m going to kiss you again because I can’t help myself. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman, even Honi.” His magnetic eyes held hers. “We both want at least one child, maybe more. Why deny ourselves that? I don’t want to use you. I’ve never used any woman. I want to marry you, Stevie. Does that make sense?”
The room was spinning slowly around her. Was she hearing things? she wondered.
“You want to marry me,” she said slowly. “Do we know each other well enough?”
Oh, she wanted to leap and clutch his statement to her bosom and she wanted to do the same thing to him, but she wanted the love she had always dreamed of and had never gotten.
His glance probed hers. “We know each other very, very well. Couples have known each other for years, gotten married and separated before the year was up. Others have been strangers, courted for a few days or a few weeks, married and stayed together a lifetime. When I hold you I know what heaven has to be like. The respect I feel for you is like none I’ve felt before, although I’ve always deeply respected women, beginning with my mother. Do you know how the dictionary defines respect?”
The Way You Make Me Feel Page 9