31 - It's a Small World

Petey stood, impatiently tapping her scuffed combat boot in the opulent entryway of the Marriott Marquis, watching everyone in New York breeze through Times Square – everyone, that is, except Candace.

Like a fool, she’d let herself get bullied into waiting in the lobby of the hotel so that Candace wouldn’t have to walk into the party alone.  The problem with that arrangement being that Petey was neurotically early for everything, while Candace was fifteen minutes late for being fashionably late.

The leather of her jacket squeaked as she crossed and uncrossed her arms yet again, impatience making her restless. 

Looking for any sort of mindless distraction, she blithely watched a shiny black Town Car glide to a halt in front of the hotel.   Before the wheels had come to a complete standstill, the back door was swinging open to release a long, lean leg clad entirely in black.  Petey could faintly make out the laughter rolling from within the vehicle.

She was leaning forward with interest when a man's blonde head ducked out of the car.  The curly hair was distinctive and a wide smile lit his angular features through the laughter.

David Bryan, Bon Jovi keyboardist and acclaimed Broadway composer.  Born February 7, 1962 in Perth Amboy, New Jersey as David Bryan Rashbaum. 

He was reputed to have a wicked sense of humor, as well, Petey recalled from her quick Google search yesterday.  Strange.  She knew that circumstances would eventually dictate it but, up to this point, she hadn’t really thought about meeting the band members.  Richie’s mention of it on the phone had prompted Petey into action. She liked to be prepared, so it seemed in order to have at least a little working knowledge of these men.

Sliding out of the vehicle behind him was a much shorter and darker passenger.

Hector Juan Samuel ‘Tico’ Torres, born October 7, 1953 in New York City.  Bon Jovi drummer, artist and avid golfer. 

The two men were making their way through the front door of the hotel when she apparently caught the taller man’s eye.  With a curious look, he inspected her spider web patterned tights, chunky boots and leather jacket.  All that black was softened only by the little pink skirt and rakishly tilted Santa Hat she wore.  And, of course, her pink lip gloss.

She nodded politely, and the non-verbal greeting was returned by Mr. Torres, just as politely, as the two men passed by.  Mr. Bryan, however, backpedaled as though pulled by an invisible force, halting before her with his mischievous blue eyes dancing. 

“I know it’s rude to stare, and I apologize, but I’ve never seen a Goth trimmed with pink fur.  Is it a new branch of Goth-ism?”

She batted black, sparkling eyelids at him, her pink contacts causing his own eyes to widen.  “Yes.  Sodom and Goth-mora.  Its primary goal is to lure you in with the pink fur and sparkles so we can wrap you, unaware, in our defiling darkness.”

His loud guffaw drew the attention of his companion, who was several feet away now, oblivious that anything out of the ordinary was happening.  With the tiniest frown, he paused, looking beckoningly back at the other man.

“Very cute,” Bryan admired with a wink, his feet once again moving with a forward momentum.  “You should be a vampire with that kind of bite.  Merry Goth-mas, Baby,” he tossed over his shoulder.

“Happy Dracula – er, Hannukah,” she returned with an impertinent smirk.  So few people appreciated her word play.  This guy was going to be fun. 

“Oh my God!” a shrill voice nearly pierced her eardrum.

“Hello to you too, Candace.”  Petey rubbed at the offended ear.  “It’s about time you got here.”

Her reprimand went in one ear and out the other, because Candace’s attention was riveted on the far side of the lobby with two of the Bon Jovi band members.   “Was that David Bryan and Tico… whatshisname?”

“Torres,” she murmured.  “I assume so.  They didn’t introduce themselves.”

She clutched at Petey’s sleeve, putting nail marks in the leather.  “But he was talking to you, wasn’t he?  What did he say?”

Oh seriously?  Granted, I didn’t have your typical adolescent upbringing, but isn’t this kind of thing usually left behind in junior high school?

“He just said hello,” she glossed over the exchange.  “Can we do this already?  I’d like to make my appearance and leave.  The Marquis Ballroom is upstairs according to the signs, and the elevators are over here.  Let's go.” 

Blocking out Candace’s incessant chattering - it was nothing but complaints over how Petey had ruined the cute pink outfit - and fighting a case of nerves, Petey quietly recited “Twas the Night Before Christmas” in deference to the holiday season.  She hated social events, and Jon had her on pins and needles with his promise/threat of a gift. 

She wasn’t supposed to speak to him, was she, other than a perfunctory hello?  Anything else would scream that they’d been lovers.  Right?

It was likely a non-issue, she scolded herself.  There could so many people here that she wouldn't even see him.  Besides that, they hadn’t been in contact for over two weeks, which was plenty of time for her rampant hormones to settle themselves.  He probably wouldn't affect her if she did see him. 

Damn, she wished Richie were here.  He had such an easygoing way about him that she wouldn’t think twice about what she was stepping into.  She could get lost in a silly conversation with him about something going on around them.  The man in the elevator wearing the green polyester suit, perhaps.  

“Hello,” a latte-skinned beauty greeted them when they approached the ballroom entrance.  Pen poised over her clipboard, she regarded them with striking green eyes and politely asked their names.  After ticking them off the list, she unveiled a picture-perfect smile.

"Ladies, I’m Monique.  Please come in, mingle and enjoy yourselves.  There are hors d’oeuvres being served and an open bar at the front of the room.  I believe there’s even some live music scheduled for later in the evening.  If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Candace had gone from goggle-eyed to suave sophistication the instant she stepped from the elevator.  She returned Monique’s smile aloofly, and set her sights on the other end of the room, where a stage was loaded with instruments and sound equipment.  Thanks to her tardiness, between them and the stage were well over a hundred people already enjoying themselves and the music being pumped in over the speakers.

It wasn't a deterrent to the opportunistic Candace.  She'd come to this party with an agenda firmly in hand, and she artfully wove her way through the throng of party goers, instinctively drawn to something - or someone in their midst.

Probably Jon.

God help whomever it is.

“Where is the coat room?”  Petey asked Monique demurely, slipping out of her jacket and letting the hair fall around her shoulders.  The Santa hat required only a minor adjustment, and she brought the fuzzy pompom to rest on her left shoulder.

“Oooh.  What an interesting choker,” Monique remarked with genuine admiration.  It was one of Petey's favorites.  The wide strip of ebony lace had a pewter black widow spider poised in the center of her throat and there were several black Swarovski crystals dangling from the bottom.  “You can hang your coat in there,” she instructed, pointing to a doorway just to the left of the entrance.

Petey murmured her thanks and, after hanging her coat, wiped damp palms on her thighs.  Several deep breaths later, she felt calm enough to join in the sea of Jovi-ans.  Really, she just dipped her toe in the water, because she stood on the outskirts looking in. 

                “And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,

                The prancing and pawing of each little hoof”

“Petey.”

She squeaked in alarm, covering her mouth to stifle the sound.  The noise had drowned out the sound of anyone approaching, and she was startled by the hand now resting in the small of her back.  “Jeez, Tony, you snuck up on me!”

At his side was a handsome man quite a bit taller than he.  She came up to about shoulder level on Tony and Jon, but this man…  Well, Petey had to tip her head back so that she could see into his face. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Tony apologized. “I just wanted to introduce you to someone.”

“Someone very tall, it would appear," was her droll observation.

Both men laughed and the gargantuan stuck out his huge hand, engulfing hers in its grip.  “Heya.  I’m Matt Bongiovi.”

“My baby brother,” Tony elaborated.  “Jon’s too, of course.  He's acting as head of Bon Jovi security this time around.  Matty, meet Petey.  There’s nothing she can’t do with electronics.”

Petey found it very sweet that her boss wanted to introduce his brother and was being so complimentary.  She smiled modestly at the praise.

“Except teach Jonny how to use them?” Matt snorted.

“Actually, I hear she even did that,” his brother informed him smugly, with a hearty slap on the back.

“Damn.  Then she is good.  I don’t know what you’re paying her, but it’s not enough.”

“Shh!  I’m hoping she hasn’t figured it out yet.  Or if she has, that she’s too polite to mention it.”

Petey was nearly laughing at the two of them.  They were kind of cute together, resembling one another more strongly than either resembled Jon.  The main difference between these two brothers was the height, and the fact that Matt wasn’t quite as dark as Tony.

“The good news for you..." She lightly tapped Tony's chest with her index finger. "... is that I’m perfectly content with what you pay me.  The experience itself will be priceless.”

“Hello,” a deep voice interrupted at her right elbow.  Flicking a quick glance upward, she saw that it was David Bryan.  “We meet again.”

Tony’s face screwed up with confusion.  “You two know each other?”

“No," Petey replied before Mr. Bryan had the chance to open his mouth.  "He spoke to me downstairs, in passing.”

“Yeah.”  He raked his eyes up and down her body, taking in the newly exposed choker and the form fitting black top with thumb holes in the over-long sleeves.  She even saw him glance at the corset-style laces zig-zagging up the back.  “I would’ve chatted longer if I’d realized Tinkerhell here was one of ours.”

Her jaw literally fell open at the ridiculous name.  She couldn't have heard him correctly.  “What did you call me?”

“Tinkerhell,” he repeated with a sly grin. “You know, like Tinkerbell, only bad to the bone.”

Blinking at him, she thought she should be angry, but couldn't quite manage it.  Petey found humor at the glee in his eyes and how it contrasted so sharply with the wariness in Tony’s.  For some odd reason, Tony was a bit afraid of her and, this time, he looked like he might be afraid for David.

“Okay,” her boss interceded, clearly uncomfortable with what he found himself stuck in the middle of.  “Petey this is one of the band members, David Bryan.  D also goes by Lemma.”

It was Petey’s turn to work her mouth into a sly grin.  “Pickle.”

“Uh.”  Tony’s eyes bounced back and forth between the two of them, an unwilling spectator to their visual standoff.  “Lemma, this is Petey Diehl, one of my video crew.  And on that note, I’m going to get a drink.”

“Coward,” David taunted after him, still not taking his gaze from Petey’s.  “Funky contacts there, Tink.  So what’s with Pickle?”

“I have a bizarre sense of humor, Mr. Bryan.  So much so, that I’m not willing to allow you onto the warped playground of my mind.  You seem like a clever man.  I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.”  Full dimples shining, she pirouetted away, intent upon making a grandiose departure.

Her plans were dismally interrupted when she collided with a solid wall of flesh.

“Whoa!” Jon chuckled, steadying them both with strong hands atop her shoulders.  “Careful there.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, electricity jolting through her at his touch.  From under her rhinestone studded eyelashes, she stole the one quick glance she needed to commit him to memory.  Dark jeans, a blue button-down shirt that was open at the throat to display his black beaded necklace, and a black sports coat.  His hair was more ‘fixed’ than she’d ever seen it, lending him the appearance of a GQ model. 

So much for settled hormones. 

“No problem.”  The smile was different than what she was used to seeing from him.  Not quite real.  She’d almost go so far as to say it was a baring of teeth more than an actual smile.  “It’s nice to see you again Petey.  I see you’ve met Lemma.”

“Yeah, Tink and I are hitting it off real well.”  David’s chuckle was something near evil.  “I like this one Jonny.  Can we keep her?”

A fleeting scowl darkened Jon’s features, and he acerbically informed David, “She’s not a damn dog, Lemma.  You should probably apologize to her before she decides to sue us for sexual harassment or something.”

That was quite possibly the funniest thing Petey had ever heard.  It struck her so hysterically that she couldn’t have contained her outpouring of laughter if she’d wanted to.  Ohhhh the irony….

“You find something amusing, Ms. Diehl?” 

God.  Was that what they called the stink-eye?  It was certainly unappealing enough to carry the name.

“No.  Not at all... Mr. Bon Jovi.”  Her attempt at contrition came close to failing miserably when David snorted. 

“Back off, Boss Man.  I’m pretty sure Tink and I are wise-ass twins separated at birth.  It’s all good.”

While his fake smile was foreign, the flattening of Jon’s mouth in that particular way was not.  As a matter of fact, it was a gesture that Petey was more than familiar with.  He was pissed. 

“Then I’ll leave you two to bond.”  He dipped his head sharply in her direction.  “Petey.  Welcome aboard.  I’m sure I’ll see you around.”