Chapter 50

Inspired in part by a lot of recent events and conversations.  No offense is intended to anyone, in any way.  It's just a story :o)

She quietly endured the long elevator ride up to their floor, reflecting upon Richie’s blonde business partner.  He stood next to her in the small car, hand burrowed under her sweater and gently stroking the curve of her back.  He, too, appeared lost in his thoughts.

Allegra fought the ‘green aura’ that Criss – she later found out exactly how famous he was in his own right, and was slightly embarrassed about the fact – had mentioned, mentally picturing Nikki Lund.  Richie’s natural affection had never been a big secret, but she didn’t realize how much seeing it demonstrated to another woman would dig at her.    It wasn’t as though he was doing anything secretive.  Hell, he’d brought Nikki over to meet her.  Wincing, she realized she could have handled that particular situation with a little more grace.

She had just left Jon and Criss in search of Lexi, when Richie called to her.  Turning with a smile toward his voice, she was taken slightly aback at the woman hanging onto his arm for dear life.

“Sunshine, this is Nikki.  Since she and I are working closely together on WTB, I thought it would be nice for you to meet each other.”

Nikki’s face morphed into the closest thing to a smile Allegra had seen from her so far.  “Hello, doll!  Richie’s told me so much about you.  It’s incredible to finally meet you!”

“I wish I could say he’s told me a lot about you, but I guess we haven’t gotten that far yet.  Very nice to meet you , though.”  She managed to keep her sarcasm in check, realizing that it wasn’t fair to dislike this woman based on a few outward appearances.  “I understand that you’ve got your first show coming up soon.”

With a dramatic sigh that rivaled only David, Nikki threw her free hand in the air and flapped it about. The other hand was still firmly curled around Richie’s bicep.  “Oh yes, and we are SO excited!  I can’t wait to see that GORGEOUS doll Ava strutting her stuff on the runway.  Isn’t it fabulous?”  Her face tipped up to look at Richie, and Allegra immediately knew the definition of a plastic Hollywood smile.

“She’s definitely looking forward to it,”  Allegra agreed, and suffered through several more minutes of idle chit-chat before sliding an inquiring gaze to Richie.  “I know you’re working, so I’ll just go find Lexi or one of the guys to hang out with for a bit, okay sweetie?”

Nikki spoke up before Richie had the opportunity to respond.  “Oh, we’re not working, we’re just having fun!  I think Mr. Bon Jovi Guitar God has worked enough tonight, don’t you think?”

Nevertheless, Allegra stepped close, resting her hand on his forearm and leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek.  “He has, but it won’t stop him from doing what needs to be done,” she told Nikki, hoping she was right.  Addressing Richie, she instructed, “Find me when you’re ready to go, okay?”

“I will, baby.  Thank you.”  He gripped her hand briefly, in an appreciative squeeze.

The elevator chimed, drawing her attention back to the present.  Richie’s warm palm easily guided her into the corridor to their door, where she crossed the threshold with a deep sigh.

 “Tired, baby?”  he asked, slipping his arms around her waist from behind, and pressing his lips to her bare shoulder.

“Mm.  A little,” she admitted, leaning into his strength.

“Working a crowd can wear you out, if you’re not used to it.  Every time I saw you, you were talking to someone different, and, I must say, you handled yourself quite well.   I was impressed.”  She could feel his grin against her shoulder.  “Even heard that you managed to fend off a horny magician.”

A tiny giggle escaped, and her head lolled back on his chest.  “Yeah, I did,” she sighed.  “It was kind of sad really, because he ended up being a very likable guy.”  At his growl, she twisted around to face him, poking his chest.  “And how would you know that anyway?  Did you desert me the whole night to spy on me and see how I’d survive on my own?”

“Mayyyy-be,” he admitted, protecting himself as she resumed poking him in random spots across his chest and stomach.

“Hmpf!  Well, I was already going to make you do some penance tonight.  I guess now you’ll have to do some more.”  Allegra latched onto his arm and dragged him toward the bedroom.

Richie quirked his eyebrow and his eyes sparkled with intrigue as they crossed the threshold.  “Penance, huh?”

Propelling him to the oversized bed, she lifted her palms and shoved just hard enough to make him bounce on the cushiony mattress.   His feet hit the floor to steady himself, and she threw her leg over his, straddling him with her palms planted firmly on his chest.   “Yes.  You sang Homebound Train tonight, which hardly shows off your voice at all.  I haven’t gotten to hear you sing in weeks, and was looking forward to it.  Now you have to sing especially for me.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.  Because if you don’t, I’m not taking a single stitch of clothing off my body.”  His mouth opened to speak, but she placed her palm over it, muffling the sound.  “And neither are you,”  she informed him.

His smirk was defiant, and she waited with interest for whatever clever commentary he planned to offer on the subject.

“I don’t have my guitar, Sunshine.  Can’t sing with no strings.”  He raised his hands helplessly.

You’re gonna have to do better than that, sweetheart.

“You and I both know you don’t need a guitar to sing.  But,”  she pointed to the corner of the bedroom, with pleased look.  “I asked Matt to make sure we had one here.  You know - just in case.”

The look of surprise on Richie’s face was priceless.

Her tone was very matter-of-fact. “If you want me naked in your bed, you’re going to have to sing my clothes off.  One song for each article of clothing you want removed.”  Checking her watch, she told him, “Shoes and socks are freebies, but you’d better get started if you want any sleep tonight, Old Man.”

His belly laugh echoed through the room.   “When did you get to be such a tough negotiator?”

“Hey, I’ve been going easy on you so far.  You might wanna keep that in mind.”

His groan was as loud as the laughter before.  “Jeeeee-sus! If Hawaii was easy, I’m in for some serious-ass trouble,” he teased, curving his hands around her backside.

“You’ve dealt with Jon all these years.  I can’t imagine that I would be any worse.”  Allegra shrugged, and saw that his features had immediately clouded at the statement.  “What?” she asked with concern, pulling back to study him more closely.  “I AM worse?”

His palms drifted downward from her bottom to stroke down the back of her thighs.  “No, of course not.  That just reminded me that we’ve been asked to join Jon and D for brunch in the morning.”

She could feel her body go from pleasantly relaxed to tight as a bow in an instant, wondering at what the latest royal command performance was destined to bring. “Why?”

“I don’t know for sure.  He SAID he wants to catch up with what’s going on in your life.  You know, find out how your job-search is going and all that.  I personally think there’s more to it than that, but he won’t say what.”

He’s trying to charm his way out of a mess.  “I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.”

He maneuvered them both enough, that he could seat her on his thigh, curling his arms around her.    “We don’t have a lot of time together before you go back home, so I’ve been avoiding this, but you know we need to talk, right?”

Drawing back with surprise, she asked him, “What do WE need to talk about?”

“Well, the first thing is when you’re going to tell him about your job at the Foundation.  He hasn’t asked me anything about you and work yet, so I haven’t had to lie.”  His gaze was direct when he said, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t force me to.”

“Richie, it may be a moot point.  I intend to ask Sister Mary if she can steer me to someplace LIKE the Foundation, without the personal ties.”

“Why?  Because of the latest argument between you and Jon?”  At her non-committal murmur, he seized his opportunity.  “That’s the other thing.  Are you going to tell me what happened?”

She avoided the question by burying her face in his shoulder.  “You know how we are.  We fight.  It’s just what we do, I guess.”  The resonating sadness couldn’t be completely disguised.

“You blow up and it blows over,” he corrected.  “AND you don’t care who knows it.  This has been different, because you’re still not speaking to him and you’re not spilling all the details about what an ass he was.”

That’s because it hurts too bad, and I won’t put you in the middle.

She’d thought it over.  Repeatedly.  The reality of it was that nothing would magically restore her relationship with Jon.  Her ‘big brother’ was now just a cousin, she would now expect nothing from him but the casual hugs and conversation that family gatherings brought around the various holidays. 

More determined than ever for Richie not to find out the details, she stuffed away the unpleasant feelings and idly toyed with the longish strands of hair at the base of his neck. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, really.  We have Italian tempers that happen to clash more often than most.  It’s better to keep some – okay, a lot – of distance between us, apparently.  That way no innocent bystanders get caught in the wreckage.”

Please let it go. Please let it go.

Blessedly, he seemed to bend to her silent will, and brushed her mouth with his.  “I don’t believe you, but since you’re so determined not to tell me, what song do you want first?”

He helped her stand and slid out from under her, crossing over to his guitar.  In no time, he had kicked off his shoes and returned to perch on the edge of the bed, tucking one leg under him as he strummed.

Getting comfy, she stretched out on her stomach alongside him.  “Anything you want to play will be fine.”  She looked up at him, her breath almost taken away by the way the shadows and lights played across  his masculine features.  Realizing she was watching him, his eyes slid to her and an easy grin covered his face. 

Sweater, jeans, panties, bra.  Four items.  Average song length of at least three to four minutes, probably longer.  Plus time in between songs. 

She was looking at fifteen minutes, bare minimum, before she could take the guitar’s place in his arms.  Allegra knew right then that she didn’t have the patience to finish the game she’d started.  Offhandedly, she added,  “ If it’s good enough, you only have to do one.”

He knew she’d just caved.  There was no way he couldn’t know. 

“That’s okay, Sunshine.  I won’t mind jamming a little tonight,” he assured her with a little smile.

She cursed herself for this ridiculous idea until the familiar chords caught her attention.  This wasn’t his song, it was Jon’s.  Holding her breath, she waited, anxious to hear his interpretation of the words she had recently become so familiar with.

There’s something about you

I wanna rescue

I don’t even know you

So what does that mean?

Richie so often took the higher octave when he sang with Jon, but tonight it was all melody, from that deep, bluesy place in his chest.  The gravelly tone that he could pull from there always made her shiver, but it was notably absent tonight.  He caressed the words gently, as he would a lover, and the result was a soft, mellow sound that wafted hauntingly through the room.

Maybe I'm cynical
I'm painfully logical
You're tragic and beautiful
And that's good enough for me

You're looking for a hero, but it's just my old tattoo
Tonight I swear I'd sell my soul to be a hero for you

His eyes locked on hers, and he sang the chorus as though he had personally written every syllable with her in mind.

Who's going to save you
When the stars fall from your sky
And who's going to pull you in
When the tide gets too high
Who's going to hold you
When you turn out the lights
I won't lie I wish that I
Could be your superman tonight

If somebody sent you
An angel to save you
What would you tell him to turn him away

That your heart don't break
That your lips don't kiss
That life is just a lie
That heaven don't exist?

He started to infuse some gruffness to his tone, as his musical emotions took him to a different place.  She listened with spellbound fascination, unable to tear her eyes away.    

Who's going to save you
When the stars fall from your sky
And who's going to pull you in
When the tide gets too high
Who's going to hold you
When you turn out the lights
I won't lie I wish that I
Could be your superman tonight

Who's going to fix you
The next time you break down
Stranded alone by the side of the road
It's your baggage that's dragging you down
Don't look back
Let it go

Finally, that last chorus, he sang as soft and tenderly as anything she’d ever heard, drawing out the final few words several beats longer than the original version

I won't liiiie…

I wish that III…
Could be your su – per – ma - annn….  To- night.

Her eyes were damp, and she brushed away the impending tears before they could escape.  Climbing to her knees, she crept closer to him, slipping her arms around his neck and captured his mouth in a soft, sensual kiss.  She vaguely heard the quiet ‘thump’ of the guitar as it slid to the floor and she was enveloped in his embrace.

His lips were only a whisper away when he murmured, “That was good enough?”

Her chin slowly descended in an imperceptible nod.  She was lost in his eyes.  His soul shimmered there, and she was overwhelmed by the beauty of it – and him.  The words spilled from her lips before she could think about them.  “Make love to me.”