by Every, Donna
“Tell me about this vow of chastity you’ve taken that’s going to be the death of me,” he demanded.
Shari smiled at Nick’s dramatic pronouncement.
“No one has ever died from chastity,” she insisted. “Besides, you have a constant supply of women who would be happy to supply all your needs, so you won’t die.”
“They pale in significance compared to you.”
Shari rolled her eyes. “That line will get you nowhere with me, Nick Badley.” She was not taking him seriously, but he was telling the truth. He couldn’t imagine going back to taking what was offered to him so freely after only kissing Shari.
“Besides, I’m working on breaking my habit. Now tell me how this started.”
“How much time have you got?” She threw the question back at him that he had asked her at Estes Park. That seemed so long ago and so much had happened since then.
“All night, if you’ll put me up.” It was already after midnight and, although Shari knew that he could call a cab to pick him up, she wanted him to stay. She hoped that none of her neighbors saw him in the morning; they would definitely jump to the wrong conclusion.
“I came up in the church. My parents always took me along, whether I wanted to go or not. Well, it paid off because the seeds that got planted grew and, eventually, I began to live my life according to God’s ways. When I went off to college it was the first time I was on my own and I wasn’t prepared for the freedom I had. In my second year, I met a guy called Robert Levin and he pursued me relentlessly. He was a couple years older than me, very street wise and very cute. I was completely in love with him, or so I thought.”
Nick felt unaccountably jealous of the “very cute” Robert Levin who Shari had been in love with.
“I gave myself to him, believing that we would get married anyway, but a year or so later, after he had graduated and started to work, he told me that he’d outgrown the relationship and that he was moving on.”
“Aah.” He now realized why she had disliked his song so much.
“I was devastated, of course, and I went back home, broken and depressed. My mum dragged me off to church once again and I found healing there. But the experience made me more cautious about relationships and definitely more resilient. I also vowed to do things God’s way and not to have that kind of intimate relationship again outside of marriage.”
Nick was silent for a long time as he digested what Shari told him and then began to look at his life through her eyes. No wonder she believed him to be depraved. Well actually, he was.
“I was a church boy as well.”
Shari sat up in amazement. “What?”
“I told you that my parents are churchgoers. Well, they used to take us along with them and, like you, I started to follow Jesus. It was after a youth camp I went to when I was fourteen.”
She could not believe it.
“What happened?”
“Teenage years, rebellion, the music industry, the desire for fame and fortune. Any and all of the above. I became a ‘lover of pleasures more than a lover of God’,” he quoted. “It’s hard to stay on the path in this industry, especially if you have no positive influences.”
No wonder he could quote scripture. “I would never have guessed.”
“When I do something, I do it all the way.” He laughed mirthlessly. “It didn’t help when Jo lost the baby. I felt as if God was punishing me for walking away from him and it was my fault that it happened.”
“Oh Nick, no! God isn’t like that, he’s redemptive. Bad things happen to good people all the time. The important thing is to learn the lessons from them. I think you learned yours.”
“How so?”
“Well when you remarried you made a commitment to be faithful to Patti. You were determined not to make the same mistakes you made with Jo.”
“Yeah. Unfortunately between the two marriages I was pretty wild. I guess I felt that if I was going to be punished I might as well have something to be punished for. That’s how I got my nickname. It was women, drugs, wild parties, you name it. I was on a self-destruct mission. Thank God my eyes opened as I matured, although you might dispute that. I began to see a lot of musicians going down that road and it made me get serious about my music and clean up my act, although the nickname has stuck. That’s when things really took off. I’ve been very fortunate.”
“So, what are you doing with your fortune?”
“What do you mean?”
“I believe that we’re blessed so that we can bless others. So who is benefitting from your blessings?”
“Well Jo, who gets a fat alimony check every month; my parents, who I bought a house for; the people who I employ…”
“What about other people who need help? Are you involved in any philanthropic stuff? Do you support any causes?”
That made Nick think and he realized that he had only been helping those people he knew, but he could do so much more.
“No. You’re right. I could do more. I’ll give it some thought.”
“If you want something to think about, I recently did a documentary about how music changed the lives of at-risk kids.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I discovered that when kids in inner city schools were given the opportunity to learn to play instruments and create music, while being mentored, they started going to school more, they were more motivated to learn and their test scores went up. I was told that their self-confidence increased and their teachers said that they collaborated better in class and generally had better attitudes. Because of their mentors, they also began to create visions for their lives. After the documentary aired, the station had a lot of calls from people who wanted to be mentors.”
“Great! That sounds like something I’d like to get involved in. I could definitely donate instruments to some schools but I’m not sure about the mentoring part. I’m far from being a good role model.”
“Then maybe it’s time to change,” she challenged.
“Maybe it is.” Nick agreed thoughtfully. “Thanks for that, Shari. I’ll definitely investigate it some more.”
“Glad to be of service,” Shari teased.
“You really love your job, don’t you? At least when you’re working on stories with depth and meaning,” he reminded her of their first conversation. Shari laughed.
“Oh, this one is turning out to be deeper than I thought. And yes, I love my job. I love telling stories that motivate people to get involved with what’s happening around them and even globally. That’s why I so wanted to do a piece on how micro-financing can impact the lives of women in developing countries.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“I don’t get to choose what I work on. You were hotter news that women in Africa.”
“I’m sorry about that Shari.”
“It’s not your fault and anyway I got the chance to meet you and I’m discovering that you’re not as bad as I thought,” she admitted.
“Care to repeat that? Where’s your recorder? We need to include this in the documentary,” Nick teased, but he was pleased.
“Don’t let it go to your head, Nick Badley,” she replied, smothering a yawn.
“You’re tired,” Nick observed. “Better go to bed. I’ll be up for a while. This is still early for me.”
“I should make you sleep on the couch for being presumptuous in turning up with a bag, but you can use the spare room. It’s at the end of the hall. Would you like anything before I go to bed?”
“Yes, there’s something I’d like,” he leered at her teasingly before dodging a throw cushion that she tried to slap him with.
“Ha!”
“Can’t blame a man for trying.”
Shari shook her head and stood up to go to her room.
“I see that I have to step up my prayers for you.”
He laughed.
Before she could leave, Nick caught her hand and brought the palm to his lips for a warm kiss, making it tingle and she fel
t as if Nick Badley had put his stamp on her. When she got to her room it was still tingling.
A persistent knocking on the door woke Nick up. He vaguely wondered who would be knocking at his hotel room so early in the morning. He cracked an eye open to look at his watch on the bedside table to discover that it was nearly half past seven and that he was not in a hotel. The night came flooding back to him and he smiled as he remembered that he was at Shari’s house and in her spare room. He’d slept like the dead. The only thing that would have made his night perfect was if Shari had been with him. He better put a stop to those thoughts. After what she’d told him about the walk she’d chosen, he had to respect her decision and stop trying to seduce her. It would not be easy, but he could do it. In theory.
He swung himself off the bed and sat for a minute, getting a last snatch of rest before he forced himself to get up. He could easily have slept for three more hours, but Shari had to go to work. He could never do a nine to five; that was torture. Give him seven to four any day. Grabbing the backpack he’d brought, he headed for the small bathroom across the hall to get ready for the day.
Shari was flitting around the kitchen taking down mugs and plates to set the table. Coffee was already bubbling in the percolator and she had a frying pan on the stove and batter in a bowl. There were already two large pancakes on a plate and the box of pancake mix on the counter told him that she wasn’t always a “make it from scratch” woman. She turned back to the frying pan and tipped some batter into it.
“Good morning, my love.” In spite of the early hour, Nick felt on top of the world. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well without five or more drinks to help him.
Shari pretended to look around to see who he was referring to.
“I mean you, Shari Goodwin.” He came up and hugged her from behind, nuzzling the sensitive spot below her ear. She squirmed away.
“Nick Badley. Did nothing I said last night register with you?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t make it any easier to resist you.”
Shari swatted him away and instructed him to get the coffee.
“Did you sleep well?”
“I haven’t slept so well in a long time. I don’t know if it was the bed or the thought of you sleeping down the hall, although that would have kept me up.”
Tell me about it, thought Shari, who had not slept very well.
“You made pancakes for me? I’m touched.”
“It’s not a big deal.” Shari piled a pancake on the other two that were stacked on the plate, put some fruit that she’d already cut up on the side and poured on some strawberry compote which she’d bought at the supermarket yesterday. She paused. Had she expected Nick to spend the night when she bought it? That was a disturbing thought. She hurriedly gestured for Nick to eat while his pancakes were still warm.
She fried a couple more for herself and finally sat down, by which time Nick had practically demolished his.
“Thanks, Shari. That was great. What time do you have to get to work?”
“I’m fairly flexible, but I’m aiming to get there for nine thirty so that I can wrap up what I’m working on quickly and then maybe show you a bit of Raleigh, provided that we don’t get overrun by your fans.”
Nick grimaced slightly. Sometimes he wished that he led a normal life. Sitting here and eating breakfast with Shari felt normal and gave him more pleasure than he’d had in a long time. He’d love to be able to walk down the street with her or go shopping without being recognized and bombarded for autographs or photo ops. He’d chosen this life and he didn’t know how to change it or if he truly did want to change it. Looking at Shari across the table, he wondered how she would feel about sharing it.
“How do you feel about that?” Nick asked her.
“What? Being swamped by fans?” He nodded.
“From hanging out with you, I’ve realized that it’s not easy. It’s one thing to observe what the celebrity life is like, but it’s quite another to live it. It’s not always the glamourous life that people think.”
“Do you think you could live it?” Nick persisted, watching her closely. She wondered where he was going with this.
“I could live with anything if I thought it was worth it.”
What did that mean for him? Nick wondered. Would Shari think a relationship with him worth the stress of living in the public’s eye? Or was a relationship between them doomed before it even started? And what kind of relationship would that be?
“Do you think being with me would be worth it?”
“What do you mean by ‘being with you’?”
“I mean spending time together and getting to know each other better. See where it goes.”
“We’ve been doing that already.”
“Yes, but I don’t mean for the documentary. I mean for us.”
Shari looked at Nick. He seemed sincere and almost vulnerable as he opened himself for possible rejection.
“I think it would be worth it,” she conceded, opening her heart to possible hurt for the first time in four years.
Finally, progress, Nick thought with a smile.
“You won’t regret it,” Nick assured her.
I hope not, Shari thought.
Chapter 23
There was a hush as Shari and Nick walked into the offices of KZM Studios followed by squeals from the women. So much for being professional, thought Shari. No wonder Gerry had given the assignment to her. It reminded her of the Maroon 5 music video for their song “Sugar” where they’d crashed weddings across LA, shocking the wedding guests into speechlessness before they erupted into screams.
Journalists and admin staff alike swarmed around Nick, taking selfies with him and group shots. Shari shook her head in amazement from the fringes, glad that she had never acted like that around Nick. The fact that she hadn’t was probably what attracted him to her.
While she was waiting for the selfies to be finished, her mind wondered back over the morning. She was surprised at how easy it had been to sit down across from Nick at breakfast. They could have been a married couple, except for the fact that they’d slept in separate beds last night. Who would ever believe that Nick Badley had slept at her house and nothing had happened? Well, nothing much, if you considered his arousing kisses nothing much. She was glad that he hadn’t pressured her to go any further.
She’d always thought that he was not beyond redemption, now she was more convinced than ever. The seeds were already there, they were just dormant. She’d do her best to water them. She would never have guessed that Nick had once been on the same path as her. She’d been quick to label him, but he’d proven that one label could not adequately describe who he was.
“Sorry to break this up, ladies, but I need to introduce Nick to Gerry.” They would be there all day at that rate.
Gerry was almost as bad as the women, gushing over Nick and thanking him for agreeing to the documentary. Shari didn’t have the heart to tell him that Nick had been totally against it at the start. It was during the Denver trip that he had begun to cooperate more. She wasn’t sure if it was out of guilt for the way he had treated her or not, but whatever it was she was glad because she was very pleased with the way it was shaping up even before the piece with his family.
When she explained to Gerry that she had come in to do some work on the documentary before she showed Nick around, he shooed her out of the office and instructed her to take the day off.
Shari was happy to leave her work for another day and to spend the day with Nick. He had to be back at his hotel by four o’clock to get ready to head out to the airport where the private jet would fly them to the capital that evening as they were doing a daytime concert the following day.
“What do you want to do?” she asked him.
“I don’t really care as long as it’s with you. I’d be happy to just hang at your place.”
“You can’t come to Raleigh and not do something. I’ll take you to the Museum of Natural History an
d then we can go back to my place and make lunch. Can you cook?”
“I make a mean salad.”
Shari laughed. Nick probably hadn’t cooked in ages. He could eat out every day if he wanted to or hire someone to cook for him.
“OK, I make a mean sandwich so we can have sandwiches and salad.”
“Sounds good. OK, let’s go and do the duty tour of the museum.”
Shari slapped his arm for making it sound as if it was a chore.
“OK, I admit that it was interesting,” Nick told her as they climbed into her car. They had just spent a couple of hours at the museum and he’d been surprised to find himself enjoying the tour.
“I’ve become a bit of a history buff,” Shari confessed. “It started when I did a search of my ancestors and discovered that some of them had come from Barbados. I bet you didn’t know that Charleston in South Carolina was founded by a group of men from Barbados back in 1667?
“No, I didn’t.”
“I grew up in South Carolina and I didn’t know that either until I did a history course in college. When I started researching Barbados because of my ancestors, I came across some of the architecture there and I was amazed to see how similar it is to ours. Even today there are similarities, especially in the old plantation houses.”
“I remember you telling me that you have a mixture of Barbadian heritage and a number of others.”
“Yes, Barbadian, Italian, African American and Irish.”
“You’re definitely all mixed up,” he teased her.
“We’d make a good couple, then, because you’re definitely mixed up too, in your own way.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more. About making a good couple, not about me being mixed up. I know that I may have acted like Jekyll and Hyde before. I even wondered if I was bipolar, but recently I’m beginning to feel as if I’m not vacillating so much anymore. Maybe I’m becoming who I really am.”
“Funny you should mention Jekyll and Hyde because that’s who you seemed like to me – one minute really nice and the other a real jerk.”