LOVERS

by Roxy Harte

  I grab Bishop’s face, screaming, growling ache-filled words. “I need you.”

  “Yes,” he says.

  Pain. Pain. Pain.

  He kisses me hard and fast, drowning out the pain of Hiroko’s bites. I scream against his lips, as the pain she is inflicting breaks through. I thoroughly expect to be covered in blood. He fills my mouth with his passion, “I love you.”

  Pain, pain, pain.

  It is too much, I am overwhelmed, the balloon filling so steadily in my chest all along, explodes and I am floating, flying. I cry into his mouth, “I love you, Bishop. I love you.”

  He carries me to his bed, to his and Hiroko’s bed, and places me in the middle. It seems I sink a million inches, swaddled in goose down pillow top, above and below, comfort so great I feel like starting to cry all over again, and then he is climbing in bed, covering my body with his, filling me and taking me again into the clouds where my thoughts cease to exist. I am aware that we are not alone, that Hiroko is cradled against me, kissing me this time, giving me pleasure as well.

  I AWAKE IN BISHOP’S arms, he is carrying me from his and Hiroko’s bed. I open my eyes and see her still sleeping.

  Bishop kisses my temple. “I’m sorry I had to awaken you.”

  In the hallway, I can tell it is barely dawn. He takes me two doors down and into another bedroom. It is large and beautifully, serenely decorated. Through a set of wide double doors, there is a beautiful garden. Steam rises in the early morning air. He sees where my gaze goes, answering my unasked question.

  “It’s a shared garden, connected solely to Hiroko’s bedroom and this. You may stroll there, meditate there, or soak in the hot tub any hour you like. Hiroko usually soaks from nine to ten each morning. If you would like to join her, I am certain that she would enjoy the company.”

  He lies me down on the bed, and I feel horribly guilty. The room is large and well lit, having its own attached bath. It feels like the master bedroom.

  He tells me, “This is my room and now, it is yours.”

  He doesn’t say ours. I don’t ask if Hiroko and I will split him, or share him, I’m not certain at this point that I’m ready to know the answer to that question.

  He kisses me. “This morning I have to work. Hiroko will sleep well into the day. In a few hours breakfast will be served. I hope you will join me and the children. There is a simple kimono in the closet that should work for today, until I can have some clothing delivered for you.”

  I nod, thinking that my life has taken an insane turn.

  Chapter 37

  Adrian

  They’re like two dogs, establishing hierarchy, and Toby makes me proud, holding her own against Johnny, not giving an iota. It makes me wonder again just what in the hell has been going on in Malibu when she’s away from me. Gauging by Lexi’s reaction alone, I’d guess plenty. Lexi has it bad for Toby, and I was surprised when Toby actually came back up. I honestly thought that was the last I’d see of her.

  She surprised me. She keeps surprising me.

  “There’s no paparazzi outside,” she says, interrupting my thoughts.

  “I got a restraining order.”

  “Really? You can do that?”

  “They were obstructing my business,” I answer absently. “It seems that Bianca’s attorney is on top of things for her, even if she can’t be.”

  A soft knock at the door rouses me from my spot against the wall. Toby and Phelps say at the same time, “Lexi.”

  I open the door, but it isn’t Lexi, It’s Jameson. Good grief.

  “I can’t go home, and I can’t go to my hotel. I saw on the television that you guys are safe from the crazies, because they’ve been barred from coming near your bar. So I thought I’d be safe here.”

  “This is out of hand.”

  I hold open the door and he enters, carrying an overnight case. He says, “Guess we’re all holing up together?”

  “Thanks to your wife.”

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea she was even thinking that Bianca was Bebé. I can’t believe she exposed her on national television.”

  “Did you know?” Phelps asked.

  “No! Of course not. This is news to me as well. Emma could have said something, anything, before all of this. Maybe I could have stopped her. Well, it’s past the point of excuses, I guess. In one fell swoop she’s taken away everything that ever meant anything to me—my job, my home, my children, Bianca. I just wish Emma was in town to see the path of destruction she’s caused.”

  “Where is she anyway? Did you ever find her?”

  “No, I didn’t find her,” he answers. “VH1 interviewed her and put her on a plane to a secluded tropical paradise.”

  Toby says, “That’s messed up.”

  The phone rings and I look at the caller ID before answering. I announce, “Bianca,” and take the phone to the other room. I answer with a question, “Everything okay there?”

  “I’m fine. I’m worried about you guys. I never should have left you to deal with this.”

  “No, it’s fine. I think they are trying to regroup. They’re leaving us alone.” I don’t tell her about the restraining order. “I’d say they’re trying to find you. So watch yourself.”

  She chuckles. “I don’t think I have any worries here. I thought Bishop was lying when he said his house is a fortress. He wasn’t. He has state-of-the-art surveillance equipment, steel doors, bullet-proof glass, and a ten foot wall around his property.”

  “Is this guy Japanese mob? What did you get mixed up in?”

  “No,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “He and his wife are Asian antiquities dealers. The collectables they have in their house are mind-bending. I’m absolutely terrified to touch anything, because most of it is priceless. I can’t believe they’re raising two kids here.”

  “You’re there with him and his wife?”

  “Yes.” She laughs. “That’s been a little intimidating.”

  “You’re really all right?” I ask, thinking she sounds happy and if this is the worst thing that has ever happened to her, I wish it would have happened years ago. The edge that is usually in her voice is gone. She sounds relaxed, almost carefree.

  “Bebé is very retro-chic in Japan,” she explains. “Who knew?”

  “Yeah, who knew?” I scratch my head, thinking the absurd. Bianca’s fallen in love.

  “Did you see the news?” she asks.

  “I stopped watching about this time yesterday.”

  There’s a long dead silence.

  Crap. I ask, “What was on the news?”

  “My old manager, a plea for me to contact him, because he has a record deal, reality television offers, and a book deal offer that he needs to present to me.”

  “You have a manager?”

  “Once upon a time I did, yes. Now he’s just the guy everyone is calling because they can’t find me. I feel like Alice in Wonderland. Everything is insane, the world turned upside down.”

  I frown. “You aren’t coming back anytime soon, are you?”

  There is another long pause and I sit down on the bed, waiting for her answer.

  “Not for a while. Not until this dies down. I’m going to be forced to make a lot of decisions over the next few days that may change everything, or I may just hide here until Bebé is forgotten again.” Softer she says, “I miss you.”

  “I miss you.”

  “I should go. It’s late there, and you sound exhausted.”

  I sigh. I am exhausted, but I feel better now that I’ve heard her voice. “Be safe in Japan.”

  “You can count on it.”

  My heart starts racing, I feel suddenly like this is it, that I might not ever see her again. I break her biggest rule, the deal breaker, but I can’t help myself as I fight tears. I tell her, “I love you, Bianca.”

  “Damn, Adrian. I’ll be back,” she says, addressing my fears. At least she didn’t hang up on me. I let out a sigh of relief.

  Toby pokes
her head around the doorjamb, as does Phelps and Jameson. I wave them in and they take up spots around the room, listening.

  “Goodbye, Adrian.”

  “Bye, baby.”

  Toby slides into my lap as I disconnect, and I hold her tight, refusing to cry in front of Phelps and Jameson.

  Jameson figures it out first. “She isn’t coming back, is she?”

  I shrug. “She says she is, but it sure didn’t feel that way.”

  Toby hugs me tighter. “She’ll be back, you’ll see.”

  Chapter 38

  Bianca

  I hear his children’s whispers before I see them, leaving me paused and listening on the other side of an elaborate screen.

  “Do you think she will like us, papa-san?”

  “I’m certain of it. Remember what I said, no asking for autographs at the table.”

  I look around the screen and see them sitting on low cushions on the floor at an equally low table. I remember Japan. I loved my three month tour in the Orient best. It was the least crazy of my time spent on the road, although I managed my share of trouble in the downtown discothèques just the same. Still, I loved it here.

  I announce my arrival by saying, “Good morning. You must be Shorin and Hana?”

  The twins grin, showing dimples that rival their father’s, and their eyes are perfect, mysteriously exotic replicas of their mother’s. Shorin asks, “May I ask her a question, Father?”

  Bishop looks toward me and I answer, “Of course.”

  “Will you be singing while you are here? I have dreamed my whole life of going to a Bebé concert.”

  I laugh, hiding my mouth behind my hand. What a beautiful child. My eyes widen as I ask, “Your whole entire life, is it?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Perhaps some evening I can sing for you, but I doubt that I will be having any grand concerts any time soon.”

  “But why?” Hana asks. “I believe you would be very well-received here.”

  I smile, not knowing what to say, so I say nothing, I just wink at her and nod appreciatively at Bishop when he takes over the conversation, asking about school and weekend plans. I drift on their conversation, not really paying attention, and I begin to think that I would like very much to sing for these children some evening.

  “Maybe tonight?” Hana asks pushily, earning a stern glance from Bishop.

  Smiling, I answer her request, “Maybe tonight.”

  His two young children both clap softly, their faces beaming, and it is all that I can do to keep my expression in check. No applause before has ever made me feel so emotional.

  NOON COMES AND GOES and still Hiroko has not made an appearance. Bishop is in his office, working, and I have nothing to do. Boredom in the United States is horrible, boredom in Bishop’s house of serenity is a million times worse.

  I seek out Hiroko’s company, knowing I may disturb her. When I enter her bedroom, she isn’t sleeping. “I’m sorry, I wanted to make sure that you are okay.”

  She sits up, and I push a pillow behind her back. She doesn’t look into my eyes.

  I sit down on the bed beside her, accusing, “You’re in here hiding.”

  “Yes,” she admits.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No.” She looks up at me. “Last night, it was like I became another woman. I’ve never been like that before.” She drops her chin, whispering, “Aggressive.”

  I duck my head to a level to meet her eyes. “So you are hiding because you’re embarrassed, not because you hate me.”

  She smiles. “I do not hate you. I was slightly…jealous…when Bishop came here and told me that he was in love with you and I saw your mark on him. But now that I see you, see how you look at him and he looks at you, there is no jealousy in my heart, only sadness.”

  “He loves you.”

  “But you…you are a complete woman.”

  I shake my head, shocked. “You are a complete woman.”

  She looks at her wheelchair with disgust. “No.”

  I lift her chin. She pulls away shyly. After last night I cannot believe she has any shyness in her. She was so strong and…scary…sitting behind her desk, and then when we were having sex, she was so aggressive, so ferocious…

  It was a role. She was intentionally trying to intimidate me.

  And now?

  Is this shyness just a coy manipulation?

  Which is the real Hiroko, I wonder. “Bishop said that you usually soak in the hot tub each day, will you be soaking today?”

  She nods.

  “May I join you?”

  “Now?”

  “Now would be fine. Or whenever you are ready.”

  “Could we walk in the gardens first? Talk.”

  I smile. “I would like that.”

  We walk outside, and I am wrapped in the serenity of the gardens. Hiroko, riding in her electric wheelchair, makes me regret last night, makes me regret coming here. Bishop is hers and I really have no right…

  “You think very heavy thoughts this morning.”

  “I’m thinking I should go, I think I should have never agreed to come here.”

  “Because of me?”

  “You’re his wife. I can’t believe you haven’t thrown me out yet.”

  She stops the forward motion of her chair and pivots it around to face me. “You have as much right to be here as I.”

  I shake my head, but she keeps talking. “In Japan, until very recently, arranged marriages were the norm, and love between couples was rare. Men found their comforts with Geisha, courtesans, or a second wife, what your culture would call a mistress and our culture recognizes as a marriage between hearts. Bishop and I did not have an arranged marriage, but I think he married me out of some moral duty, and though I know that he does love me, I also know there is room in his heart for more love. There is room in his heart for you.”

  I don’t argue with her.

  AFTER DINNER THE CHILDREN wait patiently, hoping I will honor a promise to sing. I am overwhelmed because they both wear vintage Bebé concert tshirts. It’s crazy I have young fans in Japan that weren’t even born when I was touring.

  “I’m certain I would sound better with a guitar,” I say.

  They assure me it doesn’t matter.

  I tell them all the songs I sing now are folk, not pop, definitely not the songs from my last album recorded twelve years ago.

  “Please sing, please,” they say in stereo.

  Oh God.

  “I haven’t sang in a very long time, except in the shower,” I say.

  From the corner, Bishop encourages the travesty. “We have several showers if you’d be more comfortable.”

  Hiroko hides her laugh behind her hand, and I am struck again by her elegant beauty.

  Sighing in defeat, I rummage through my satchel for a small notebook. I hold it up. “Poems, songs, and musings, circa Bebé two thousand and beyond.”

  The children clap, and Bishop sits down on a nearby chair.

  “I really need a guitar,” I grumble.

  “Tomorrow, along with your new clothing, I will have a guitar delivered, tonight…just sing for us,” Bishop encourages, and I can deny him nothing, so for the first time in over a decade, I sing before a live audience. I am more nervous before the four of them than I ever was before the crazed masses…but I sing.

  After, I excuse myself to go to my room.

  I’ve heard that crying is cathartic and if so, I must truly be healed. It is some time before I hear footfall down the hallway and a while longer before I hear my bedroom door slide. I sit up in the dark, expecting Bishop, but it is Hiroko.

  Chapter 39

  Emma

  “This is the way people were meant to live!” I tell my boys as we cross the beach. I find a lounge chair within close proximity to the water and then spend five minutes, or what seems like an hour, lowering myself onto the chaise and arranging the necessities to be close at hand. Spray-on sunscreen, sandcastle building toy
s, and a book. I doubt I’ll get to read more than a page, but I can hope.

  I’ve learned a few things over the years, and applied sunscreen to the boys before we left our hotel room. Now they can romp happily and I can sit and breathe.

  “Can we get wet?”

  “Not too deep.”

  All three boys hated me for putting them in floatation swimsuits, but the payoff is they can play without me hovering. I could kiss whoever created these suits. A wail comes from the surf as Mick tumbles onto his bottom.

  “Hey, watch your brother. You know he doesn’t like getting his face wet.” A moment later I am wondering whose great idea coming to the beach was as I shout, “That is deep enough, boys!”

  A chuckle comes from beside me and I startle, looking up into a dark face surrounded by dreadlocks. The man is older, I’d guess mid-forties, maybe fifty. I hope he isn’t selling anything. It seems everyone has wanted to sell me something ever since we debarked the plane.

  “Your family is beautiful.”

  Begrudgingly, I tell the man, “Thank you,” praying he won’t sit down.

  He sits in the sand beside me. Damn it

  “My name is Michael. Michael Reece.”

  Keeping my eyes on the boys in the water, I nod but don’t volunteer a name. Seeing all three of them leave the surf to dig in the sand, I lean back to relax…only to have a sand throwing war start. “Hey! Hey! Play nice.”

  “Boys will be boys, yah?”

  I look at Michael, wishing he’d leave, and am totally creeped-out when I realize I saw him earlier in the day at the outdoor market. “Are you following me?”

  “No, no.” He chuckles. “Just a happy coincidence. I too saw you at the market and thought how lovely you looked in your sundress. Seeing you here as well, I had to come by and introduce myself. I hope that is all right.”