All I Ever Wanted: Of Love and Madness, Book Three

by Cimms, Karen

  Back then, it had been Billy who’d wanted to keep their relationship under wraps after Christa convinced him it would be bad for his career to have a girlfriend. This time, the secrecy was on her. She was starting to dislike it almost as much as she had the first time.

  She was heaping green olives next to a salad of mixed greens, walnuts, and grilled chicken when a familiar voice whispered in her ear.

  “Hey, Kate.”

  She spun around, nearly dropping her plate, to find Denny, Billy’s drummer from the Viper days.

  “Oh my god. How did you know it was me?”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t, but you’re the only person I know who eats green olives like they’re a side dish.”

  She set the plate down and hugged him. “I didn’t know you were back with Billy.”

  “For a while now. He called me when he was getting ready to record the new album, and I jumped at the chance.”

  “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.”

  “I’m guessing you two had more important things to talk about than who’s banging the skins.”

  She collected her plate and stepped out of the buffet line. “True.”

  “Does he know you’re here?”

  “He knows.”

  “So it’s all good. All is forgiven?” He gave her a tentative smile.

  “We have some work to do, but yeah, this is what we both want.”

  “I’m glad, Kate. He’s been lost without you. I knew something was different through these last few rehearsals. I was actually feeling kinda sad, because I thought he was moving on without you. I couldn’t believe after all these years you guys were really finished.” He looped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. “I’m glad you’re not.”

  “Me too.”

  “So,” he said, fingering a red curl near her cheek, “if he knows you’re here, why the disguise? And why are you out here and not in his dressing room?”

  She leaned in, cupping her hand to his ear, and explained why she was incognito.

  “Ramona, is it?” Denny said loudly. “How’d you like to meet Billy?”

  She gaped up at him.

  “I’m sure C.J. wouldn’t mind parting with you for a few minutes. He’s pretty busy right now—last-minute details and all that. Let me introduce you to the boss.”

  He grabbed her elbow and steered her toward Billy’s dressing room.

  “What’re you doing?” she whispered.

  “He’s a bundle of nerves about now, and I bet he would love to have his wife with him for moral support.”

  A giant in a black T-shirt with the word Security emblazoned on the front stepped in their path. He looked as if his day job consisted of holding up suspension bridges.

  “No unauthorized women,” he barked, glaring at Kate.

  Billy sure as hell meant business.

  Denny held up the all-access pass hanging around Kate’s neck and waved it at the behemoth. “This is C.J.’s assistant. Billy needs to dictate a letter.”

  Her neck hurt from looking up at him. He was six foot seven if he was an inch.

  “She don’t look like an assistant.” He sized her up, from the top of her bright red head to the tip of her platform heels. He probably also noticed she was holding a salad, piled high with olives, and not a clipboard.

  “This is rock ’n’ roll, dude. What’d you expect C.J.’s assistant to look like? Besides, it’s something to do with payroll.” Denny dropped his voice. “I dunno about you, man, but I need my paycheck.”

  The security guard mulled Denny’s words and stepped aside, allowing him to knock.

  When Billy opened the door, Denny pulled Kate in front of him. “C.J. asked me to bring Ramona back so you can dictate that letter.”

  The muscles in Billy’s face relaxed into a smile.

  Denny stuck out his hand. “Well, Ramona, it was nice meeting you. I’m gonna finish up dinner.” He slapped Billy on the shoulder. “See you out there, buddy.”

  Billy closed the door and locked it behind her. He pulled off her sunglasses and tugged at the wig.

  “What’re you doing?” She grabbed a fistful of synthetic hair and struggled to keep it in place while olives rained off the plate onto the floor.

  “Please take that off,” he begged. “You can put it back on when we’re done.”

  “Done with what?”

  One final tug, and the wig slipped from her head. He tossed it onto the sofa and ran his fingers through her flat, matted hair. Then he kissed her while pushing her jacket off over her shoulders.

  “I’m supposed to be taking a letter,” she mumbled into his mouth.

  His low chuckle shimmied down her spine, setting off a fire even lower.

  “Don’t even . . .” She gasped as his teeth sunk into the soft spot between her neck and shoulder.

  “I don’t drink anymore,” he breathed between kisses, his fingers tweaking a nipple as they ran over her breasts. “I don’t do drugs.” The words tumbled out like a love song. “You are my only addiction.” He held her close with one hand while the other fumbled for her zipper. “I need you,” he whispered desperately. “I mean it, Katie. I need you.”

  “We’re getting too old for this,” she said as his hand urgently tugged down his zipper and then traced up her thigh and under her skirt.

  “No, we’re not.” He sighed into her ear as his fingers found their target. “We’ll never be too old for this.”

  * * *

  Kate tucked the last strands of dark hair under the wig while Billy paced small circles around the dressing room. She watched his reflection in the mirror. He was unusually pale, maybe even on the verge of turning green.

  “I thought that was supposed to help,” she said as he absentmindedly zipped her back into her dress.

  “It did. I was worse.”

  She’d never seen him this nervous before a gig, probably because he’d never been completely sober. She grabbed him by the wrist and led him to the chair in front of the mirror.

  “Sit.” She picked up his brush and began running it though his hair. “You are so incredibly talented, and all of those people out there came to see you.” She smoothed each stroke with the palm of her hand. “You’ve earned this, and I’m so blessed to be here with you.”

  She put the brush down, ran her fingers under the thick mane of gold, and gently massaged his scalp and neck, moving to the knotted muscles along the broad expanse of his shoulders. “Ponytail or loose?”

  “Loose.”

  “I agree.” She smiled at his reflection “Although you’re a heartbreaker either way. I pity those women in the front row who’ll be wishing they could take you home tonight.”

  He snickered. “I think those days are long past.”

  “No, they’re not. Just remember, I’m the only one.”

  He captured her wrists in his hands. “You’ve always been the only one.” He gave her a slow smile, the sparkle in his eyes returning. “You and the dark-haired woman I’m married to.”

  There was a knock followed by a rattle of the doorknob.

  “Billy?” It was C.J. “Open up.”

  When Kate opened the door he frowned, then stepped inside quickly and closed it behind him. “If you’re gonna make me date her, then you can’t steal her from me too.” He gave Billy a sour look. “My fucking ego is fragile enough as it is.”

  After going over some last-minute details with Billy, C.J. addressed Kate. “Come on. I’ll show you where you can stand.”

  “Can you give us a minute?” she asked.

  “What the hell?” He glared at her. “Another reason I don’t date women. Thirty seconds. Tops!”

  After the door closed, she reached up and pulled Billy’s face close to hers. “Ignore the hair. Just look into my eyes.”

  After all his years of standing on a stage, she was surprised to see the tension in Billy’s jaw and if not fear, then something close to it, in his eyes.

  “You’re gonna be great a
nd later, we’ll toast your success with sparkling cider.” She made her voice extra breathy. “I even bought strawberries.”

  “Jesus, Kate. How am I supposed to sing, thinking about you and strawberries?”

  She gave him a sly look. “Use it to your advantage. I bet you’ll sell even more CDs.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  The theater was mostly dark except for a soft blue spot that pooled onto the floor in front of Billy’s mic stand. Denny was already at the drums, and the rhythm, bass, and second leads were in place. The buzz of the crowd was palpable.

  Kate could feel the electricity. If Billy was nervous, then she was downright petrified. Her heart was thumping so loudly she was certain people in the first few rows could hear it. Her elbow burned with the squeeze he’d given her as he passed, and she covered the spot with her other hand to hold it there.

  Standing several feet outside the spotlight, ghostlike, Billy played the first few bars on his acoustic and began to sing. She strained to hear him over the drumming of her heart and prayed her legs wouldn’t give out. After a few more bars, the second lead and rhythm guitars joined in, and then the background vocals, softly at first, as Denny kept time on the rim of his snare. Billy swung around, and an almost-invisible roadie seamlessly removed the Martin and strapped his new Thorn into place. Billy completed the circle just as center stage exploded with light and sound.

  Kate squealed with excitement. She bounced on the balls of her feet, her fist pressed against her mouth, until the song ended.

  “What do you think?” C.J. was beaming.

  “He’s wonderful,” she gushed. “This should’ve happened years ago.”

  “I agree,” C.J. shouted. “I don’t think I’ve ever worked with anyone more talented, both as a songwriter and as a musician.”

  She dabbed at her eyes. Thank god for waterproof mascara.

  C.J. took her by the elbow. “Come on, I’m going to move you out front.”

  She pulled back. “What if someone recognizes me?”

  “No one will recognize you,” he scoffed. “Not in that getup. I’ll sit you next to the soundman. No one will pay any attention to you.”

  Since she was dying to see the concert from the theater like everyone else, she reluctantly agreed.

  “Jason.” C.J. tapped the sound engineer on the shoulder. “This is Ramona. She’s my date. I want her to sit here with you for a while.”

  Kate pressed her lips together when she saw the look Jason gave C.J. at the word “date.” She slipped as quickly as she could into the seat between the two sound engineers in the boxed-in area at the back of the auditorium.

  Billy played two more songs before moving to the grand piano that had been wheeled out onstage. He looked out at the crowd and smiled, then took a sip from a bottle of water that had appeared out of nowhere. He scanned the crowd again, and when his gaze settled on the sound booth, Kate knew her seat there wasn’t C.J.’s idea.

  “Oh, man,” Billy drawled. “This is awesome.”

  The crowd laughed as if he’d said something funny. Some cheered. He played a familiar string of notes, then repeated it.

  “As you may know, this is a special night for me.” He played the riff again. “This is the beginning of my first solo tour since I began my career some”—he ran his palm over his mouth—“mmphmm years ago.” He grinned when the audience cheered. “It’s been a long time coming.”

  He spoke slowly, punctuating each silence with the familiar riff. “Sometimes it takes a long time to get it right. I’m living proof of that. Sometimes you need to lose it all before you realize what you had was what you needed, was all you ever wanted, and if you’re blessed—like me—you’ll realize that before it’s too late.”

  He played more of the riff and added a few more notes.

  “I’m going to do something tonight I never do and I’m unlikely to do again, but since you guys are my first . . .” The smile that made her melt was having a similar effect on most of the women in the audience, and they shrieked appreciatively. “ . . . my very first . . .” More screams and cheering; much more grinning. “ . . . my very first solo concert.”

  The place was going crazy now. Kate’s fingernails were practically embedded into her palms.

  “I’ve been known to screw up over the years—a lot.”

  A voice from the balcony shouted, “No way, baby!”

  Billy laughed. “Oh yeah, big time. And it took me a long time—years, actually—to finally get it right. I want you to remember . . .” He played the familiar refrain. “It’s never too late to fix yourself. And if you’re really lucky, the people who love you might give you a second, or in my case, a third or a fourth chance. They might be waiting for you when you’re done being an ass. And if you’re really, really lucky, the woman or the man you love might just be willing to take your sorry ass back.” The crowd was going crazy. “That’s if you’re really lucky.”

  He played the riff again and launched into the lead of his platinum single, “Without You.”

  “Katie,” he said softly into the mic, his eyes on her, “baby, this one’s for you.”

  The cheers almost drowned him out at first, but the crowd settled down as he began to sing. Eyes glued to his face, Kate could barely breathe. He’d played the song before for her on the guitar, and it was beautiful. But on the piano, in this concert hall, in front of two thousand people, it was mesmerizing. Throughout the theater, people were singing along with the chorus. It was a moment she didn’t think she would ever forget.

  By the end of the song, there was only one thing left on her mind. As dubious as she’d been about coming with Billy on the road, she wanted nothing more than to toss her red wig into the crowd, march onto that stage, and show him exactly how much she loved him.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  The tour was off to a great start. Billy had already played concerts in Maine, Massachusetts, and Connecticut as well as upstate New York. After that night’s gig in the city, they’d be heading to Jersey. From there, Kate couldn’t remember where they were going.

  The concerts were getting better each night, if that were even possible, and tonight’s was no exception. The atmosphere was electric. Kate was standing in her usual spot backstage when she spotted a small group of fashionably clad people in the wings. Record execs, probably, but one of them, a woman, looked disturbingly familiar.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered as she recognized the tiny blonde.

  She ducked into the shadows and made a beeline for Billy’s dressing room. She tore off her red wig and did her best to fluff her flat hair and fix her makeup. When she was satisfied, she returned to her spot backstage and watched Christa Dunphy watch her husband.

  When Christa had wandered far enough downstage from her companions, Kate made her move.

  “Hello, Christa.” Her heart ricocheted against her rib cage. The name was bitter on her tongue, but the unpleasantness strengthened her.

  The woman’s automatic smile faded, and for a split second, she seemed about to lose some of her self-control. Her response confirmed exactly what Kate suspected—this appearance was not business-related.

  Kate smiled warmly, although there was a part of her that wanted to scratch the bitch’s eyes out.

  “Kate,” Christa said, regaining some of her composure. “What a surprise seeing you here.”

  “Really? I’m actually surprised to see you here.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous—Billy and I go way back,” Christa purred, at least as much as she was able to over the sound of a rock band shaking the rafters just twenty feet away.

  Kate recognized an evil smile when she saw one. She had grown up with one. “So I’ve heard.”

  Christa’s eyebrows arched and she chuckled. “Oh, I doubt that.”

  “No, really.” Kate rested her hand on Christa’s arm, pleased at how clearly unnerved she’d become. Kate leaned closer. “I do. I know all of it. What I don’t know is why you keep tor
turing yourself. It’s quite sad, actually.”

  Christa’s eyes narrowed. In case she still didn’t believe her, Kate continued.

  “My husband has his faults. He made a terrible mistake a long time ago, one he’s regretted ever since. He’s not perfect—none of us are. But he loves me, and he always has. You want what we have? I suggest you stop chasing other women’s husbands and find one of your own. Maybe one closer to your own age.”

  It was bitchy, but that last comment hit a nerve.

  Emboldened, Kate continued. “If you can find a man to love you half as much as my husband loves me, then you’ll be a lucky woman. Let it go already. You can’t hurt him, and you can’t hurt me.”

  Christa was glowering, but then her lips curled into a wicked smile. She crossed her arms and attempted to stare Kate down. “You expect me to believe he told you about us?”

  Kate laughed. “Us? There was never any ‘us.’ And if you’re referring to what happened in a drunken, drugged-out stupor twenty-some years ago, that’s not at all what I meant. The mistake I was referring to was ever getting involved with you in the first place. The other thing? That was just stupidity on his part. And as far as you’re concerned, well, it was just kinda slutty.”

  Christa’s mouth fell. She struggled for a retort, but Kate didn’t give her a chance.

  “I think we’re done here. It was nice to see you again, Christa, and I do mean that. It gave me the opportunity to get that off my chest, and it feels great. And if I’m being totally honest, I have to add that I hope this is the last time we run into each other. Enjoy the rest of the concert.” She gave Christa’s arm a little squeeze. “He’s just wonderful.”

  Praying her shaking knees wouldn’t give her away, Kate walked to the spot where she knew Billy would exit the stage, while Christa returned to the small cluster of men she had arrived with.

  When Billy stepped backstage a short time later, he headed straight toward her. He looked surprised to see her in the area where reporters and those with backstage passes would be congregating.