Plain Again

by Sarah Price

  “I see.” Alejandro turned to Amanda and rubbed his hand down her arm in a loving yet possessive gesture. His expression was not his usual one of adoration or love, but the look she often saw when he was in work mode. His next words explained why. “I have hired Dali to work for you. As your assistant.”

  “Work for me?” She was stunned. What on earth did she need an assistant for? “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

  He gestured toward the sitting area for the three of them to be seated. A young man walked through the doorway, carrying a tray of beverages. He handed a glass to Alejandro and two bottles of water to the women. When he exited the room, he shut the door behind him.

  “Dali will help you with scheduling and media relations, Princesa. She will monitor social media and the tabloids. She will also schedule interviews and social appearances.” He lifted his glass to his lips and took a long sip. “She will be a big help to you, Amanda.”

  Amanda barely heard the last part of what he had said. She was stuck on the previous sentence. “Social appearances? Interviews? Whatever for?” She almost laughed, but, knowing that he was serious, thought twice about doing so.

  Clearing her throat, Dali leaned forward and answered for Alejandro. “There is a lot of demand from the public for getting to know you better, Amanda. Whether you know it or not, you have become an overnight sensation.”

  “I don’t want to be an overnight sensation,” she responded in a matter-of-fact tone, staring at the woman seated beside her. Dali stared back but gave no indication of any emotion nor made any attempt to conjure a response. Frustrated, Amanda looked at Alejandro. “I just want to be with you,” she whispered, too aware that this Dali woman was right there and listening. “I don’t want to do interviews or those other things.”

  He reached out and touched her knee. His blue eyes met hers, and she could see that he was pleased with her response. Still, without him saying another word, she knew that she was fighting a losing battle. “Remember I told you once to trust me, sí? Do you?”

  Amanda took a deep breath, biting her lip to hold back the tears that she sensed were close to the surface. She did remember that. It was after he had come to the farm to rescue her from the paparazzi who had found her parents’ farm and from the bishop who was insisting that she leave the community until the fervor died down. “Ja, this I do,” she said softly.

  “Then I am asking you to trust me once again, Amanda,” he said, never once breaking eye contact with her. “Dali will help arrange your schedule and the logistics surrounding your appointments. There will be no inconvenience for you beyond just showing up at these events. But the public is enamored of you, Amanda, and to deny them some access, even if it is very sheltered access, will create more problems in the long run. You have to give them a little of what they want, but with Dali’s help, it will be structured and organized in a way that will limit the intrusions on your privacy.”

  Knowing that she had no choice, Amanda swallowed and nodded her head, not trusting her voice to say anything.

  “¡Bueno!” He clapped his hands, looking pleased. “Now, Dali will have access to your cell phone. Since you have met, she will call you using her own phone and help you program her number into yours. That way you will know when she is calling and that it’s a safe phone call to answer.”

  Amanda nodded again, finally understanding why a strange woman had called her using Alejandro’s phone. Long ago, he had instructed her to never answer her phone if it wasn’t from him or her family, should she choose to give them the phone number.

  “There are two reporters coming in just a few minutes,” he continued as he stood up. “I want Dali with you when you speak to them as I must go get ready for the Meet and Greet. I’ll talk with them later. Dali will take good care of you, Princesa.” Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I know you will do wonderful, Amanda. And after the show, we can go out for a late-night cocktail at the Top of the Strand, sí?”

  “Top of the Strand?”

  He headed toward the door. “You’ll like it, Princesa. It’s quiet.” Then, with a quick wink, he opened the door and disappeared, leaving Amanda alone with this new personal assistant, Dali.

  Immediately, Amanda realized that Dali was a “take charge” type of person. “Let’s sit for a moment, shall we?” she asked, and without waiting for Amanda to respond, she sat back down on the sofa and moved the papers off her laptop. “I have a few things scheduled already for tomorrow,” she said as she tapped at the keyboard and her eyes searched the computer screen. “Easy things to start; I think that is best.”

  Sighing, Amanda sat down in the seat that Alejandro had just vacated. “What exactly are these ‘things’ that you are scheduling, then?”

  Dali glanced up and smiled. “More reporters who want to interview you. New York is a bustling town, Amanda. Several companies have contacted us for endorsements, but Alejandro thought that was a bit too much.”

  “Endorsements?” It was a word she didn’t understand in the context in which Dali used it.

  “Advertisements, in a way,” Dali patiently explained. “Photos of you holding the product, videos of you recommending the product, stuff like that.”

  That thought horrified Amanda. “Oh no!” she exclaimed, alarmed that something of that nature would even be considered. “I could never do that!”

  To her surprise, Dali laughed. “That’s what Viper said.” She turned her attention back to the laptop and tapped a few more keys, the noise a clicking sound that seemed oddly out of place in the lounge room. “Now, he had asked me to look into charities for you. He felt you might like that . . . perhaps a bit more comfortable with such a role for the public.”

  Charities? Amanda frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  Again, Dali looked up and patiently explained. “Most celebrities have a cause, a charity that they support. Viper does not. He felt that it might be something of interest to you.”

  “What do other people do?” Amanda asked, curious about this idea.

  “Literacy, hunger, poverty, animal rescue, things of that nature,” was the simple response from Dali. Her answer didn’t really help narrow down what “charity” might interest Amanda.

  “Religion?”

  Dali shook her head. “Too controversial.”

  “Religion is controversial?”

  Again, Dali laughed. It was a gentle sound, not one that hinted at any sort of mockery. “You have no idea.”

  Amanda frowned. “Ja vell,” she replied. “I have no idea, indeed.” Her frustration was rising. Alejandro had never mentioned this to her. When she married him, she thought she was to be his wife. Now she was getting the sense that there was much more involved in being married to Viper than what was required to be married to Alejandro, and that was not something she had considered beforehand.

  “He made one suggestion,” Dali offered. “Helping disadvantaged children get educated.”

  “Aren’t they already?”

  “Not always,” Dali admitted. “Down in Miami, there is a lot of poverty. Many of those children have a hard time in school, and the schools are not equipped to deal with them. As a result, they drop out and work the streets. There are a lot of children with good potential who are overlooked and lost as a result.”

  “That’s horrible,” Amanda gasped.

  Dali scribbled something on a piece of paper and glanced at her cell phone. “It’s almost time for the first reporter. You think about that other idea and talk it over with Viper. There’s no need to decide today, Amanda.” She handed Amanda a piece of paper, then collected the rest of her things and put them into a leather bag that was beside the sofa. “Here’s your agenda for tonight.”

  “Agenda?” She wasn’t even certain she knew what that was.

  “Schedule,” Dali explained. “Women Daily is interviewing you at seven thirty and People en Español is scheduled at seven forty-five. They are both going to sta
y and take some photos of you and Viper during the Meet and Greet at eight. At eight forty-five, you will go to your stylist in the dressing room adjoining Viper’s. At nine thirty, you should be ready for an escort to your seat. Two guards will remain with you in case of any problems. But you should expect the crowd to react and be ready for requests for photos.”

  It amazed Amanda that Dali was reciting the schedule from memory. Everything that she said was listed exactly the same on the paper in her hand. “Oh help,” she muttered. “I’ll never remember all of this.”

  Standing up, Dali smiled at Amanda. “You don’t have to. That’s what I’m for!”

  As if on cue, another woman was escorted into the room and Dali was quick to greet her. The first reporter had arrived, promptly at seven thirty. To Amanda’s relief, Dali took charge of the interview, first introducing the reporter to Amanda, then remaining nearby while the reporter asked her questions. The questions were no different from those asked by previous reporters: how had they met, what was life on the road like, did she miss her Amish community. When ten minutes had passed, Dali kindly indicated that the reporter had to wrap up her questions because an escort had been arranged for the reporter to stand backstage and watch the behind-the-scenes action before the Meet and Greet.

  By the time the second interview was finished, Alejandro joined her in the room, pausing to greet the reporter from the Latina Ahora magazine. Then, at both Dali and Carlos’s urging, Alejandro led his wife toward a door at the back of the room to greet the fans who had been waiting for a chance to meet Viper and Amanda.

  Unlike some of the other Meet and Greets, this one was more structured, with the people waiting in a queue for their turn to stand next to Viper and have their photos taken. He would spend a few seconds talking to them, but there was a noticeable lack of time spent with each guest. When she mentioned this observation to Dali, she was told that there were too many people to grant more time.

  A few times, Alejandro waved Amanda into the photo. Dali had explained that there were a few extra-special people in the group: investors, producers, and other important people from the entertainment industry, and Alejandro had wanted to introduce them to Amanda and include her in the photos.

  Before Amanda knew it, Dali was walking with her to the dressing room. An attendant handed an outfit to her, then pointed her toward a screen behind which to change into it. A stylist came in to brush out her hair and then, at Amanda’s insistence, restyle it in a bun. Only this time, the stylist added some flare to it, with tendrils hanging down Amanda’s neck and the bun twisted in a unique way so that it looked fuller. With her hair finished, a makeup artist came in and spent ten minutes putting foundation, blush, eye shadow, and lipstick on Amanda’s face.

  “Is this really necessary?” she whispered to Dali.

  Dali leaned forward and whispered back, “Yes.”

  Amanda let out a big sigh, realizing that she was not going to get any empathy or support from this Dali woman, at least not on the makeup issue. While the man worked on her face, Amanda shut her eyes and wondered what her family was doing at that moment. Surely Daed was sleeping already. Mamm would be sitting in her chair under the kerosene lantern, the heat thrown from the light keeping her warm while she worked on a quilt. Knowing Anna, she was most likely crocheting an afghan. As for Jonas, he would probably be reading the Budget or the Bible, depending on whether he had yet to catch up on the weekly news.

  If they could only see her now, she thought with a twinge of apprehension. While their day was winding down, hers was still in full swing. The concert would energize her. There was no doubt about that. Seeing Alejandro transform into Viper onstage, listening to the women screaming for him, listening to the music that he sang . . . all of it would pulsate throughout her entire body and awaken all of her senses. And then afterward, he wanted to take her to that rooftop lounge. Time alone to enjoy the beauty of the New York skyline before calling it a day.

  The stark contrast between the two worlds was almost too much for her to grasp. How on earth had this happened?

  “It’s time, Amanda,” Dali said, placing a gentle hand under her elbow to help her step down from the raised makeup chair.

  Together they walked through the corridor and to an open doorway that was draped in black. Amanda glanced through the opening and saw Alejandro standing with some men, reviewing the set list. The dancers were stretching their muscles, ignoring the rest of the commotion as the stage crew finished changing the set from the opening band.

  “This way, Amanda,” Dali urged, guiding her toward two large men dressed in black.

  Obediently, Amanda followed her, watching the organized chaos that went on behind the scenes. Everyone seemed to know what they were doing, even though half of the stagehands were racing around as if in a panic.

  “I wonder what they think . . .” she began to say.

  “Who?”

  “The people, before they go onstage to perform,” Amanda responded. “I can’t imagine doing something so . . . so public.”

  Dali almost smiled but tried to maintain her professionalism. “In due time, Amanda,” she said. “For right now, he wants you in the audience. That is public enough, no?”

  When the two bodyguards, dressed in suits as opposed to regular security guard uniforms, escorted Amanda to her seat in the pit, the section of the seating directly in front of the stage, a low roar erupted from the audience. Those who had front-row seats in the stands next to the pit leaned over railings and screamed for her attention. Security guards dressed in yellow shirts and black pants lined the way, positioning themselves between the fans and Amanda.

  Dali had instructed her to look at the fans and smile, pausing several times to permit them to take her photo. Several of the fans on the floor in the pit crowded around her, and the guards with the yellow shirts stepped forward and tried to clear a path. Amanda glanced at the bodyguard beside her, but he merely stared straight ahead as if surveilling the sea of people before them.

  It took almost five minutes for the men to escort Amanda to her seat, located in the fifth row and directly in front of the stage. They sat on either side of her, their heads constantly in motion as they watched the crowd around Amanda to ensure that no trouble was brewing from any direction.

  When the lights went down and the music began, the attention shifted from Amanda to the stage. For that, she was grateful. It didn’t matter how many times she saw him perform, she was always amazed at his transformation before his tens of thousands of adoring fans. Even more important, he always looked as though he was enjoying himself, as if the performance was just as special to him as it was to the audience. Between vocals, he would dance, laugh, and even lean down to shake hands with those who stood closest to the stage. There was no doubt that Viper was a performer, born to do what he was doing: entertain others.

  It wasn’t until just after his first encore that one of the bodyguards touched her arm as the second man nodded his head, pointing in the direction of the nearest exit. It was time to leave, before the mad rush of fans realized that she was about to do so. Otherwise, once the concert ended, they would have created a mob around her, no longer concerned about being thrown out of the stadium.

  Discreetly, they made their way to the backstage area, easily passing through security. Patiently, she waited near the steps down from the stage so that she could be there to congratulate him on yet another amazing concert. When the music finally ended and he emerged, a crowd of people surrounded him, but he merely smiled, pausing for a few quick photographs, before hurrying in the direction where Amanda stood.

  “Come,” he commanded. “I want to get showered and changed so that we can enjoy New York City tonight . . . just the two of us, sí?”

  His words were music to her ears. Following his concerts, she was usually subjected to after-concert gatherings or crowds of people. Those late nights in clubs or at parties were not her thing, but she would never think to complain to Alejandro. So the fact th
at he had planned a special late night without hordes of people was extra special to her, especially since she knew that their time together was coming to another pause. In just one more day, she would return to Pennsylvania to see Anna and meet her new brother-in-law while Alejandro would fly to Los Angeles again.

  As usual, he didn’t waste any time getting showered and changed. She waited patiently in the dressing room, seated on one of the plush chairs and leafing through a magazine that someone had left on the coffee table. There were bottles of Voss water in an ice bucket on a buffet table along with pieces of sushi that she had picked at while waiting earlier. When he emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp but his clothes changed and the scent of his musky cologne teasing her senses, she set down the magazine.

  “It’s cold out, Alejandro,” she said. “You shouldn’t go out with a wet head.”

  To her surprise, he laughed at her.

  She frowned back at him. “You’ll get sick. I see nothing funny about that.”

  He reached down for her hand and pulled her to her feet. “I wouldn’t dream of upsetting you, Princesa. Give me another moment, sí?” Planting a soft kiss on her lips, he quickly turned to the dressing table and picked up the hair dryer, turning it on and shaking it around his head.

  Wandering back over to the buffet table, she put a few pieces of sushi on a plate and carried them over to him, wordlessly setting it on the dressing table. She knew that he tended to not eat well when he was on the road, either skipping meals or eating too late. It worried her, especially if she was not around to keep an eye on him.

  “Voilà!” He set the hair dryer down and picked up the plate of sushi. “You take great care of me, sí? What will I do without you on the road with me, Amanda?”

  From the other side of the room, she turned around and faced him. “Need I remind you that you do have a large staff. Perhaps you need to have them pay better attention to your needs.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her and gave her that half-crooked smile. “I much prefer you to pay attention to my . . . needs, Princesa,” he said before popping a piece of sushi into his mouth. Then, setting the plate down on the counter, he wiped his hands on a napkin and headed toward the door. “Let’s go, my amazing wife, for I have something wonderful to show you this evening.” He held out his hand for her before leading her out of the door to the dressing room.