“I don’t hate you, Vanni,” I said quietly. “I just don’t understand you.” He nodded. He had to be expecting some kind of negative reaction to his behavior. “Truly, I don’t even know you. We were just strangers who wanted to fuck.”
It was a harsh way of putting it, and I could tell it hit him between the eyes. “It was more than that,” he corrected softly. “At least for me.”
I sat back with my arms crossed and waited.
“At first, yes. I wanted to make love to you. You’re a beautiful woman with a body built for sex.” I had to laugh but he was serious. He didn’t even smirk. “I don’t think you know what your curves do to a man. Honestly I think that makes you even sexier.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Then we started talking. And I find out you’re smart. You’re funny. You turned me on in ways most women just don’t. And I found myself thinking about you all the time. It seeped into my dreams. It wormed its way into my music. It became something I knew I had to have or else it might drive me literally crazy. I had never felt like that before. And I didn’t know how to handle it.”
It all sounded genuine… and much too good to be true. “So you get another girlfriend?”
“It’s not like that,” he said, reinforcing what Jacob confided the night before. “Lourdes and I are not in a traditional relationship. It’s mutually beneficial for all the wrong reasons, but I’m not the one calling the shots anymore.”
“That’s silly, Vanni. You always control what happens in your own life.”
“Not when you’re a commodity,” he confided sadly. “I’m a product now, not a person. And this trajectory I’m on has certain consequences. One of which, I can’t be truly honest with people anymore. I’m playing a part. A sex god one minute, a knight in romantic shining armor the next. It’s all to reinforce my brand so we can sell music.”
“So why are you telling me this?”
“Because it matters to me what you think about me. I don’t want you to think I’m some philandering asshole who would sleep around on his girlfriend or find any pleasure in hurting someone as cruelly as I hurt you.” He reached across the table for my hands, and God help me I relented. “I wanted to be with you because I wanted you. It wasn’t a game. I meant the things I said.”
I nodded. I tried to pull away but he held fast.
“And you need to know that ‘Wanting Her’ was not written for Lourdes.” I held my breath. “I wrote it two days after we came back from Philadelphia.”
I sighed. “What are you doing to me? Why tell me that?”
“Because it’s the truth. And it feels good to finally say the truth for once.”
That was when he released me and sank back against his chair. “The bitch of it all is that I can’t offer you anything more than that. Like I said my life is not my own, and anything I give to you would be just a fraction of what you deserve. It would be nights like my birthday, where we could be together under the cloak of secrecy, and it could all blow up the minute my other life tried to get in the way.”
So that was it, then. He was telling me point-blank how limited he was and giving me the option to accept it on his terms, with no expectations. If I gave in to my feelings and desires, then I’d lose all rights to complain later if it wasn’t any more than the bare minimum he was offering.
And he was being so damn magnanimous about it I could hardly be mad at him for setting it down in black in white. That was the right thing to do – something that would have helped me make better decisions in the beginning.
“And if I walk out of here and never look back…?”
“Then you’ll at least know that for a brief moment in time, you were everything I wanted and a dream I couldn’t claim.”
I closed my eyes. That was not fair of him to use his lyrics against me. He reached back for my hands, and rubbed them slightly in his own. “And I will cherish every moment that we spent together.”
I nodded. “Thank you for telling me this,” I said. “It does help. I was really hurt in December – when I thought you were just using me and everything I thought we shared was nothing more than a lie.”
“I know,” he said, and he looked as though he were actually pained by the idea. After a pause, “So where do we go from here, Andy?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. It was only fair. “I wanted you as much as you wanted me, and I would have slept with you if she hadn’t have called you.” He nodded. “But in a way, I was glad she did. I’m not the kind of girl who sleeps around, and certainly not with the sole purpose of being another conquest.” He started to protest but I held up a hand. “It doesn’t really matter what was as much as what is. And you’ve told me what I can expect from you, which is much less than I’d normally require.”
“I wish I had met you a year ago,” he offered, but I just smiled and shook my head.
“It wouldn’t have mattered. You were destined for this. I guess you can walk away from this knowing that you made me feel like the sexiest woman on the planet for one very special night. And maybe that’s all I could ever ask for.”
He leaned across the table and gave me that same kiss on the nose, something I knew I would always associate with him now in a tender, sweet way. He rested his forehead on mine and looked into my eyes. “You deserve all that and more,” he whispered. “I just wish I could have been the one to give it to you.”
A tear hovered at the corner of my eye, which he caught on one fingertip. “Me too,” I said. When I stood he pulled me into a long, warm hug. There was no sexual desire, just genuine affection. It was the appropriate way to end our near-affair. A kiss would have been a painful reminder of what I couldn’t have, and he couldn’t give me.
He made it painfully clear that Lourdes was going to be an issue for the foreseeable future, and I wasn’t okay with just getting leftovers.
I’m not a clandestine kind of girl.
Later that afternoon I called Jacob and told him about my meeting with Vanni. He was impressed with how maturely we both handled the situation, and suggested that meant he really did care about me in a very real, significant way. But he agreed that I would probably never fit into that world. “You’re too real to be that fake,” he said. “You deserve better.”
I didn’t know about all that, but I knew that hanging onto any shreds of hope would just be a prescription for heartache. Quite frankly I was at my limit of what romantic disappointment I was willing to endure, even for Vanni.
As I flew home, however, I couldn’t help listening to “Wanting Her” with a bit of self- satisfaction.
For all those girls, including Lourdes, who wanted that song to be about them, it was about me. For one moment in time he was mine. I now had tangible proof that it had been as real as it was capable of being.
No one could take that way ever again.
~Andy~
Vanni’s confession had converted me back into a fan somewhat, and I began doing some local promotional work for the band that kept me fairly busy combined with my “real job.” Iris had set up a website which I helped moderate, filling in the blanks with gigs and news for the band. It wasn’t something that paid me any money for my services, but it helped get my name out there. I was essentially clinging to the tail of Dreaming in Blue’s comet as they started to rocket into national consciousness.
I made it work for my own purposes with musical publications in Nashville, and the band was all too happy to help me with new interviews and special articles and gossip I was allowed to sell independently. The money continued to roll in from all of Jasper’s connections, publications and websites, so I was exceptionally motivated to return the favor with some odd jobs where I worked as a volunteer only.
This was particularly tested as summer approached, and Jasper booked Dreaming in Blue for the big Sin City Rock Fest in Las Vegas. It was not only a charity event but also a way to expose Dreaming in Blue, or DIB as they preferred to brand their merch, to another segment of the
country.
As their album was due to release in the summer, it was a great way to boost sales and get their name out there.
Iris had earned significant favor at her firm for the success she had with DIB, and as such already had a full workload. This included a European actor who had just hit it big in the US with a major movie role and cable TV series, which left her unable to take off and preside over the band’s needs while they were in Vegas.
She begged me to go as a personal assistant, and Jasper seemed perfectly willing to pawn off those duties to an underling who took maybe four figures less than anyone else in New York.
It was still four figures more than I would have been making anywhere else, and traveling to Vegas meant I could score some travel articles as well. I didn’t get out there nearly enough, and it was a resource that had always been good to me.
Over the past few months Vanni and I had fallen into a comfortable relationship. He called me at least once every week with updates on what gigs they booked and where he was scheduled to appear, but he kept the conversation light and friendly with no sexual overtones in respect of the decision I made in New York.
He didn’t talk about Lourdes unless asked. However with her being cast in a major action film thanks to her appearance in the video I got the not-so-distinct pleasure of chatting with her on a regular basis as well.
She sold the love story way more than Vanni seemed willing to, but it stung a lot less knowing that it was all malarkey. She seemed to sense the casual dismissal on my part for all her flowery details, even though I usually printed her comments verbatim on the website and in her press releases. This kept our relationship cordial but cool.
I had no illusions about my relationship with her. I knew I was just one more customer to sell her story to, and she was no doubt comforted by the fact I was not a threat to her reputation or her relationship.
I wasn’t especially excited that she’d be in Vegas with the band, doing a convention of some sort for lingerie models. Nor, honestly, was I looking forward to spending time with Jasper and Athena for that matter, who were going to be there for Athena’s debut at one of the casinos.
But the money was good, the possibilities for more were endless and I got to hang out with my friends in the band. Truthfully that was what they felt like now. They were no longer some guys in a band I’d listen to, they were friends I could email or text or even call on the phone.
Felix especially had become my email and chat buddy, who could be counted upon to send me funny photos and news articles at least once a week with no other purpose than to make me laugh.
Iain was more standoffish, allowing Alana to manage most of our friendship. I felt it was shrewd on his part to avoid any kind of misunderstanding between two female friends. He’d obviously been burned before, and respected Alana too much to add any kind of weird competitive overtones to the relationship.
Yael was standoffish as well, but there were nights when he’d call in the middle of the night when he was working through lyrics and wanted my input as a writer. We’d soon get off on other topics, such as politics, and stay on the phone until dawn.
So my association with DIB was no longer based solely on Vanni. As such as I was so deeply entrenched in their lives and invested in their successes that I really had no choice but to fly to Vegas in the hot desert heat and play Girl Friday for an entire weekend.
I’d be lying if I said that my stomach wasn’t in a knot thinking of spending time with Vanni, especially now that the rules had been established. He hadn’t necessarily stopped wanting me as much as he wanted to protect me from getting hurt.
This endeared him to me even when I knew that I should keep my focus on the fact we couldn’t be together. I couldn’t afford to entertain any slight possibility he may still think about it even a little.
Still, when I heard “my” song, which was now playing everywhere, it was hard not to romanticize him to some degree. His voice was smooth like silk as it flowed between each note, like fingers flowing through my hair and sending all those delicious little tingles down each and every inch of my skin. That alone would have been enough to fall in love with it. But for me it was more intimate. It was a secret love letter that only I knew the real story behind, because I was the true recipient. It was a secret only we shared – and that made it all the more priceless.
The closer it came to our weekend in Vegas I could only imagine what seeing him sing that song to me was going to do to my resolve to stay uninvolved.
I wished that Jacob could have gone but he had to hold down the fort while Jasper was away. He was more than an assistant, and I often chided he needed to ask for a raise. He countered and said I needed to ask for money, period.
It was Jacob I could bounce my feelings off of whenever I had a weak moment, remembering how good it was when I was with Vanni.
He’d remind me that it was really good until it wasn’t, and it was the “wasn’t” part that made it a bad idea.
But he was a red-blooded male with a throng of admirers that filled his social calendar on a weekly and monthly basis. He understood the temptation to give in to wild abandon, and often joked I should just sleep with Vanni and get it over with. “Solve the mystery. Get the monkey off your back. Then you can move on to someone else. I hear Bon Jovi is coming to town next week.”
It was just encouraging enough that I very nearly almost purchased another corset for the trip. It was Vegas, I reasoned. It was the perfect city to slut it up. It didn’t have to mean I was trying to tempt Vanni.
Instead I bought comfy pajamas, something I could lounge around in during the five minutes alone I’d get in my hotel each and every night I was there.
If I’m sleeping alone, I might as well be comfortable.
But my additional duties did warrant some additions to the wardrobe, and even though Iris wasn’t there to pick out my clothes like the doting mother hen she was, I think I did all right. The most aggravating part was it required yet another suitcase, one I would have to check.
I also had to rent a car for several of the duties that I had, so that meant it was an entire hour from the time the plane landed until I was able to leave the airport. With Vegas traffic it took even longer to get to the hotel that was only three miles from the airport. By the time I turned the car over to the valet I was looking forward to the free liquor perk of Las Vegas casinos.
There were flowers to greet me, two vases this time, one from Jasper and one from Vanni, whose message was a cryptic, “Looking forward to seeing you, V.” There was also a big box on my bed with a big blue bow. Curious, I tore into the shimmery wrapping paper and within the tissue I found at least three outfits tucked inside. The card read, “Didn’t think I’d let you down just because I couldn’t be there, did you? Have fun! Give our boys a big hug from me. Iris.”
I laughed as I inspected the goodies. One was a semi-formal dress she no doubt chose for the after-party. I had brought along the blue and black ensemble from the last adventure, which would have made her keel over from a stroke. She probably suspected I would dare to recycle and this was what prompted her generosity.
Iris was a public relations queen. She knew all about protecting image.
This dress was almost a flaming blood orange color, with a yellow and white water color print and sprinkling of sparkly rhinestones. It had spaghetti straps and a sweetheart neckline, which dove modestly between the girls. It momentarily made me regret not buying the corset, because that was the best way to enhance that neckline and give it its proper due.
The next item in the box: a white lace corset.
I wondered if she would have sent that little present to me if she knew exactly how much trouble I could get into wearing it? It looked almost bridal – she really would die from shock if I ended up at some drive thru chapel in a drunken stupor. The thought made me giggle.
There were two casual but hip ensembles complete with accessories and jewelry, and even a case of makeup since she knew I
would never bring any of my own.
I checked my watch. I had at least an hour before I had to meet the guys downstairs for a sound check in the theater where their concert was scheduled, then accompany them (i.e. chauffeur them) to the radio station for their interview, promoting the gig.
I figured I had just enough time to transform myself into the proper PR stand-in that would make Iris proud. I hopped in the shower and twenty minutes later I stood before the mirror in black leggings and a cold shoulder top that was deep blue and made of lightweight, breathable material. It had slits at the top of each sleeve and an elastic band at the bottom, with silver studs around the neckline. I looked like I belonged with the band, or at the very least in Las Vegas. I mentally sent Iris mental thanks for the confidence boost.
As soon as I gave my name at the box office I was issued a pass and escorted backstage. I could hear the band warming up for practice and my heart did a happy little jig against my ribcage. I saw Vanni before I saw anyone else, but a man who stood 6’3 and had long dark hair down his back was a little hard to miss.
Felix saw me first and hopped down off the stage to run and give me a big hug. The others were quick to follow, although Vanni hung back to say hello to me last. I got a brief, full-body hug but nothing that would ever make the others suspect that anything had ever passed between us.
For some reason I found that especially painful, as if I couldn’t share a part of myself with my new friends. But he had an image to uphold and I had made my choices accordingly. It was hard to be mad at him for very long, especially when he bestowed upon me that smirk.
The afternoon was filled with all sorts of activity, and fortunately a significant shortage of lingerie models.
She had her own thing to do in Vegas and didn’t need to play devoted girlfriend, and I could tell Vanni was able to let his hair down – figuratively speaking – in her absence. We spent about an hour at the radio station and then we were off to an early lunch at a sushi bar located in the hotel. I wasn’t especially keen on the idea, even though I loved seafood. I just generally preferred my meat products cooked.
The Complete Groupie Trilogy Page 9