41 - Manic Monday

“You disappeared on me Saturday night.”  A disgruntled Candace stood before Petey at work the next morning.  She had no idea what the other woman was so upset about, but even the scowling beauty queen towering high above her couldn’t ruin Petey’s day.

Once she and Jon had caught their breath after the strawberries and champagne, he had shepherded her toward his bathroom so they could clean up.  It was the dirtiest clean ever.  Soap slip-sliding around, wet skin so slick, the heat of the water doing nothing but cooling her blazing skin, and ohhhh…. 

The well-placed jets that he aimed just so, causing her to yelp with pleasured pain when they ripped an immediate and fierce orgasm from her.  Before the convulsions had ceased, he had impaled her on his lap and driven her until the hot jet of his orgasm had triggered another explosion inside her. 

Both of them were drained afterward and sleepily made their way toward the big bed.  After reminding her with a heavy scowl that she was there for the night, he rolled over on his side to go to sleep, and so did she.  This morning she’d awakened on her stomach beside him, still not touching except for the hand that curved heavily over her left buttock.

So that he wouldn’t wake in another snit, she gently nudged him to say she was leaving to go home and get ready for work.  Jon had frowned briefly at the intrusion to his sleep, but became quickly coherent.  He reminded her about the black lingerie and told her not to eat dinner before coming over tonight.

Then, just as she was slipping out the bedroom door, he beckoned her, “Petey?”

Footsteps paused on the threshold and she glanced inquiringly behind her.

“Last night was fun.”

Petey smiled.  Yeah.  She was in a good mood.  Sore, but in a good mood.

“Are you even listening to me?” Candace rudely interrupted her reminiscing.

“Of course I am.  You’re having a hissy because I left the party.”  Petey resumed checking part numbers on the video supply website.  “I was bored.  You were well occupied with the entire male guest list.  I fail to see the issue here.”

Candace pulled out a chair and collapsed dramatically – Petey rolled her eyes – into it.  “Yes, but I didn’t get to occupy myself nearly long enough with Jon Bon Jovi.  He barely even spoke to me.  Kinda makes me glad I’m not going on the tour.  He’s so damn arrogant!”

He can be, but when he is it’s well-earned.

“I wouldn’t know,” she lied blithely, writing down the information she’d been searching for.  Tony wanted her recommendations on some high speed specialty cables and she was jotting the details down for him.

Candace flapped an unconcerned hand in the air.  “Doesn’t matter.  What does matter is what’s going on with you and David Bryan.  Tell me about it!” she demanded.  “I saw him stuck to your side the whole damn night.  Did you take him home and have sex with him?”

God.  The woman knew not the definition of personal boundaries.  Even if she had, Petey wouldn’t tell her. 

A bejeweled brow arched condescendingly.  “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not kidding.  The man was all over you.”

She furrowed her brow, trying to remember.  He’d talked to her all evening and guided her through the sea of guests, but that was it.  Even yesterday, on their date, he hadn’t been that kind of interested.  Oh sure, his hand crawling up her calf had put her off for a minute, but ultimately – even after the awkward inquisition – they’d just talked.  They were friends.

It actually ended up becoming a game of who could use the biggest words in the course of casual conversation.  She smiled at the memory.  He was vocabulary enhanced.  She liked him.

“Oh, please.  He was just being friendly.”

“Uh-huh.”  With a flip of blonde hair, she inspected her nails, which was kind of funny since they weren’t long and glamorous.  They strongly resembled Petey’s as a matter of fact – short and neatly manicured, but nothing spectacular.  “I’m guessing you didn’t see him staring at your ass.  You know, since he was behind you and all.”

Petey paused in writing down the catalog number and turned her head to stare blankly at Candace.

“I know, I know.  Can’t understand it myself, but tall, blonde and curly was molesting you with those baby blues of his.”

You can’t trust her on something like this.  Hello…  Drama Queen.  If there isn’t enough drama, she’ll make it up.

Maybe she should hook Candace up with Gavin.  He’d said something very similar.  Petey nearly giggled.  They could keep each other out of trouble. 

“I’m sure you’re mistaken.  And aren’t you supposed to be packing equipment for the video shoot tomorrow?”

Surprisingly, she didn’t balk, but uncrossed the denim covered broomsticks she called legs and stood.  “Mistaken, no.  Work, yes.  If you aren’t going to give me any good dirt on Mr. Memphis, I guess I may as well get it done.”

With a shake of her braids, Petey resumed scouring the video supply website.

She stayed engrossed in that and cataloging some of the new equipment they’d gotten in for Jon’s tour for the remainder of the morning. 

At the time she’d first seen the plans, against her will, Jon’s vision of the stage show had impressed her.   No doubt, it was the years of experience in his business that allowed him to formulate something that would make a visual impact without being too much of a good thing.

“Petey.”

She spun around in her chair.  “Yeah, Tony?”

“Today we start working on the screen presentations that go along with the songs.”  He handed her a piece of paper.  “Jon has thirty songs picked out right now, and is working on getting that number up to somewhere around ninety.  I want you and Candace to give me some recommendations and creative ideas for at least half of these by the end of the week.  I’ll split the rest up between me, Bill and Randy.”

She flicked a glance at the paper, absorbing the list of songs, and felt a thread of uncertainty.  Creativity was not her strong suit.  She was more technical than creative.

“How about I let Candace come up with the ideas and I’ll just figure out how to bring them to life?”

But Tony was shaking his head.  “I'm curious to see what funky, catchy things you have tucked away in that head of yours.  Try at least one song.  If you absolutely can't do it or hate it, I'll reconsider, but I wanna hear what you come up with before we leave tonight.”

Wrinkling her nose, she wished she could tell him no, but he was her employer.  That was generally unacceptable in a work environment.  Insubordination, or some such nonsense.  Petey sighed.  If she chose an easy one, maybe she think of something slightly above a first-grade level.

“It’s not as bad as you think,” he assured her.  “The biggest part of each song will be live video feed onto the screens so the fans in the back can see.  We’re only looking for some add-ins to mix it up a little.”

“Okay, okay.  I’ll try.”

Nodding with approval, he patted her lightly on the shoulder.  “Good girl.”

That made for a weird feeling.  His brother had just called her that very thing in a grossly different context last night.  Now a comment she would have previously never given a second thought made her feel slightly dirty.  Tony was her boss for Heaven’s sake.

Her phone vibrated in the pocket of her cargo pants, distracting her from the discomfort.  “Excuse me.”  Tony waved her away and she slid outside with a quick glance at the screen before answering.

Richie.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Darlin’.”  His voice was deeper than she remembered.  “How ya doin’?”

“I’m okay,” she replied cautiously.  Last time he’d called her at work, she ended up with a date, a dress and a pair of boots.   None of which had actually come to fruition, but it made her wary about what he wanted now.   “How’s Ava doing?”

“She’s much better.  It must have been one of those twenty-four hour things, because she was fine the next morning.  Unfortunately, she passed it on to me, so I spent yesterday sick.”

“Ohhh…”  She was instantly sympathetic.  “I’m sorry to hear that.  Are you okay now?”

“Yeah, I’m doing okay.  I kinda thought I was dying yesterday, but apparently I have a higher purpose yet unfulfilled, because I’m still kicking.”

“Well, I’m sure there are many people that are grateful for that.  I know I am.  You still owe me a dress,” she reminded him with a tease.

“I do indeed, my dark angel.”  There was no two ways about it.  The man had a sexy voice that promised all kinds of naughty things.  If she hadn't been so thoroughly sated by his best friend - or if she could think of him in any other vein than friendship - Petey might be seduced by that voice.

“That’s really why I was calling,” Richie was saying when she corralled her gutter mind.  “I know you didn’t want to go to the crew party, so I wanted to see how it turned out for you.  I would’ve called yesterday, but like I said… sick.”

“How do you know I even went?”  She didn’t recall telling him her decision to go.

“A little Cuban birdie told me.  Or a little Cuban shot a birdie and told me.”  When she was silent, he prompted, “Birdie.  It’s golf humor.  Tico loves to golf.  You’re supposed to laugh.  Ha, ha?”

“Right.”

He gave a wounded groan.  “You do that on purpose, don’t you?  Steal my will to live?”

That’s nothing compared to what Jon puts up with.

“Yeah.  You got me.”  Petey pretended to sigh with remorse.  “That’s my sick, twisted hobby – I find new ways to inspire suicide every day.”

His laughter rang clear and true over the line.  “You would be a bitch if you weren’t so damn cute.”

I’ve heard at least half of that before.

It was time to get on with this.  She had a homework assignment to get started on.  “The party was okay.  I met a lot of people.”

“Including Lemma.”  It wasn’t a question.

“Funny, Tico didn’t seem that chatty when I met him.”

“He’s not, but I’ve known him forever and asked a lot of pointed questions.  I wanted to know how you made out at the party.”  A soft snicker tickled her ears.  “Or who you made out with.”

“First of all, why do you care?  And secondly, I scare people, Richie.  Chances are excellent that I’m not ‘making out’ with anybody, but standing in a corner watching the rest of the world stroll by.” 

Gee, didn’t she sound like a poor pitiful soul?  That wasn’t what she had meant at all.

He was quiet for a moment before saying, “I know at least three members of Bon Jovi that you don’t scare.”

What?  Three? 

Petey’s mind began frantically searching for anything she may have said that would imply Jon was more than an employer, but there was nothing.  She and Richie never talked about him.

“It would be helpful if you explained that, because I’m more than a little confused.”

“What about?  The three members?  That’s me, Tico and Lemma.  Jon I can’t vouch for.  From what little I’ve seen and heard, you might scare him.”

Had he and Jon talked about her?

“What do you mean heard?”

“Darlin’,” he drawled.  “Surely you haven’t forgotten the night we met.  The one where you and Jon were trying to kill each other?”

Oh, that. 

“It was becoming a nicely repressed memory until this minute, but thanks for reminding me.”

That sent him into another amused chuckle.  “No wonder Lemma is infatuated with you.  The two of you even sound alike.”  He hesitated.  “I’m jealous you know.”

Okay, he really had to stop dropping these little cryptic bombs on her.

“Excuse me?  I think it’s time for a new phone, because I thought I heard you say you were jealous, which can’t possibly be right.  What the hell and why the hell?”

“It’s very elementary my dear Miss Diehl.”  He did a delightful Sherlock Holmes impersonation.  “Lemma’s on the right side of the country.  He can chip away at your defenses in person, as often as it takes to get through.  I, however, am coastally challenged.”  That sexy voice dropped to a whiskeyed rumble.  “I’m very good with people.  If I had more time with you… You would eventually open up to me, Petey.”

Oh my. 

On so many levels.

She thought she had been very clear with both men, but evidently she’d been mistaken.  Even if she weren’t sexually distracted by Jon, there was no way she could be that.  To anybody.

It was time to irrefutably clear the air.

“Richie.  I don’t do relationships.  Period.  I think you and David are both crazy and fun and lovable in your own unique ways, but you’re friends.  That’s all.”

The quiet was deafening, and she wished she could see his face or read his mind.  Petey didn’t want to alienate him, but leaving any misconception hanging out there wasn’t right.  He was a great guy.  He didn’t deserve that. 

“Is this a self-esteem thing?  You don’t think anybody can appreciate your… individuality?”

It was a logical assumption, she supposed.  And probably true in some deep, psychological way that she didn’t particularly care to think about.

“No.”

“Petey.”  He was exasperated.  She had that effect on people a lot, it seemed.  “You can talk to me.  I’m not gonna judge.  Hell, I got no room to judge anybody.  I just want to understand.”

God, what was it with these Bon Jovi men and their need to understand?  Most men didn’t give a crap about anybody but themselves.  She’d experienced that first-hand.  What made these guys so much different?

“It’s nothing traumatically horrifying.  It’s nothing at all, in fact.  Simply put, I did the relationship thing for a long time.  I don’t care to repeat it.   Mystery solved.”

“Sorry, Darlin’, but I think there’s more to the story than that.”

She struggled to tamp down the irritation that hit a ferocious spike.  She had work waiting, and this conversation was pointless. 

“Not my problem.   Richie, I need to get back to work, so unless there’s something else you need…?”

“Fine.”  His voice was fraught with the same frustration she was feeling.  “I wanted to catch you before Lemma did about New Year’s Eve.   I’ll be in town and would like to collect my date, if you don’t already have other plans.”

Her eyes wearily drifted shut.  She couldn't even manage a friendship effectively, so it would seem.  She was a dismal failure at anything involving another person.  Somehow, things always got screwed up.  Quickly working through the logistics of becoming a reclusive hermit, she pondered the best way to get Wi-Fi in a remote, isolated location.  Preferably a dark cave, far away from anyone else. 

“That’s probably not a good idea.”

“I don’t much care if it is or not.  You promised me a date, and I’m collecting.  I like you Petey, and hiding from me isn’t going to change that.”

God save her from soft-hearted, pig-headed men.

“Richie, if you haven’t figured it out, I’m not exactly a people person.  I forgot that for a while, but today my memory has been refreshed.  Let’s quit so we can still be friends when the tour starts.”

“I’m not quitting anything until you go out with me and wear the dress I made for you.”

Who knew this sweet man could be so damn stubborn?  For what reason did he even care?  He didn’t know…

“This is pointless, you know,” she informed him with a huff, her heart suspiciously tight. 

But Richie was quietly determined.  “You’re entitled to your opinion, but don’t try and make it my opinion.  Will you please be my date for New Year’s Eve?”

Petey liked him.  She really did.  How did she make him understand?

You can’t make him understand anything if you don’t talk to him. 

“Yes,” she sighed.  “I will be your date for New Year’s Eve.”