Chapter 62

Allegra went stock still from the top of her head to the tip of her toes.  Even her heart stopped beating for a second as she tried to wrap her mind around what he’d just confessed.  She thought she’d known – had certainly hoped – but…  Well, she just hadn’t expected to hear it NOW.

Propping herself up on her elbow, she looked into his face.  “Richie, just because – “

“Stop.”  He put a finger over her lips before anything else could be said.  “Don’t try and blow it off.  I didn’t say it because you agreed to my slightly twisted sexual whim – although I’m very happy you did.  But you could’ve told me no and it wouldn’t change a thing.”

“You’re sure?”  She studied his features carefully, but the only thing she found were soft eyes and a tender smile.

“I’m very sure.”  He trailed long fingers through the silk waves of her hair,  fixing his sights on her lips.  Inching closer, he brushed them lightly with his, still hovering close as he whispered, “I love you, Allegra.”

Sweet peace and joyful euphoria battled for reign in her heart, and she couldn’t think of a better combination.  Eliminating the scant space between them, she stole a soft, lingering kiss before breathing, “I love you, Richie.”

With a playful growl, his arms enfolded her snugly against him, and just held her.  They were both content simply being there together.

That is, until Allegra’s mind started flipping through the unresolved issues that needed dealt with.  There were some things they should talk about.  She hesitated to disrupt the peaceful moment, but feared there might not be a better opportunity anytime soon.  Besides, he was the one who had preached about open communication.

“Richie?”

“Hm?”

“Can we talk?”  Realizing that was one of the most dreaded sentences in the English language, she added, “You know, to catch up?”

“Sunshine, as long as I can just lay here for a while, we can talk about anything you like.”  He rolled over on his side, so that he could see her face, and curled her hip in his grasp.  “Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on with you since Vegas?”

She couldn’t have scripted a better segue to launch into her family mini-drama.  It wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things - she KNEW that.  But it wasn’t wrong to seek some support from your…  partner.  Yeah, that sounded better than boyfriend.

With a sigh, she brought her mind back to the task at hand.  “Well, last week I had dinner with Dot, my parents and Jon’s parents.”

“Oh yeah?  I don’t think you’ve mentioned your parents before.”

“That’s because they haven’t exactly been speaking to me.”  With that, she offered him the abridged version of their disapproval and the highlights of the Monday night dinner party.  All the while, his hand stroked soothingly over her hip and thigh.

“Shit, baby.  I had no idea you were dealing with that.  And, of course, I wasn’t a damn bit of help since my availability was all of five seconds a day.”  Self-disgust permeated his voice.

“Will it always be that way?  I mean, is this something you’re hoping I can get used to?”

“Absolutely not,” he told her adamantly.   “WTB has made things crazier than usual, but we’re going to find a groove.  This first time out is just insane, man.  Every detail requires so much attention, because I have no idea what the hell I’m doing.  But I’m getting the hang of it.  Next time, I’ll know what to expect, and will be able to manage my time better.” 

He clasped her hand tightly in his and looked her in the eye.  “I know I fucked up, and I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you did.  But I’m not sure we’re talking about the same instance.”  Easing out of his embrace, she scooted upward until she could prop herself against the headboard, dragging the sheet along to keep herself covered.

“I’d like to know if there’s anything between you and Nikki.  Or, rather, if there ever has been.  Because you’ve assured me that’s not a problem when you’re in a relationship,” she qualified, absently fiddling with the sheet.  Creasing the material, and smoothing it again.  “I’m not saying that you’re doing anything wrong.  I just...  I…  I just need to know if you’ve… been intimate with her.  For my own peace of mind.”

I have a right to know.  I may be sick if he says yes, but I have a right to know.

Nerves had her shaking. No.  That wasn’t her shaking.  It was the bed.  Confused, she looked down, only to find him laughing noiselessly.  Hands over his stomach, eyes closed tight, flat out laughing. 

You’ve got to be kidding me!

Allegra reacted purely out of instinct, doing the first thing that came to mind– she smacked him.  Hard. 

“It’s not funny!”

“Oh, yes it is!  VERY funny!” he managed to choke out between giggles.

“I personally fail to see how it’s even remotely humorous.  Why don’t you enlighten me?”  She crossed her arms over her chest, more than a little peeved at his behavior.  If he wasn’t going to take her concerns seriously, they might have a bigger problem than Nikki Lund.

Still snickering, he scooted himself up in the bed and leaned in close to her.  Slipping his arm around her shoulders, he hauled her close and said conspiratorially, “Baby, Nikki bats for the other team.”

Allegra didn’t care what team she bat for, but also didn’t understand why it was relevant.   Just because the woman was in a softball league or something didn’t grant her a free pass on moral behavior.

“What difference does that make?”

Richie tried to school his features into a serious pose, but he was still visibly entertained.  “The difference is, she’s probably more interested in sleeping with you than me.”

That’s when it clicked.

With a sharply indrawn breath, she whipped her head up to meet his amused gaze.  “Do you mean she’s a… a… ” 

Allegra couldn’t finish the question, because her jaw went slack.  It wasn’t even a realistic possibility in her mind.

“I believe the word you’re looking for is lesbian.  And if she’s not, her girlfriend is gonna be awfully damn disappointed.”

Her face glowed with embarrassment.  In a million years, she wouldn’t have entertained the idea of Nikki being a lesbian.  After all, she was in fashion and wore all of the girly makeup, clothes and jewelry with relish.  Weren’t lesbians supposed to be all manly and wear biker boots?  Or something?

“Besides that, she’s just a kid.  My old man ego doesn’t get off on robbing the cradle.  It takes a grown up woman to get my attention.”  Richie bent to nuzzle her neck, clearly done with the topic of Nikki.

“How old is she?” 

“I don’t know.  Like, twenty-eight or so?”  His voice was muffled as he nibbled on the curve of her shoulder.

The jaw he’d just returned to its rightful spot, dropped again.  “No she’s NOT!”

With a resigned sigh, he temporarily surrendered his affectionate assault, slumping against the headboard once again.  “Welcome to Hollywood, Sunshine.  Most women have had at least three plastic surgeries by the time they’re twenty-five.”

“Well, she should sue her surgeon!  The poor girl looks like she’s every bit of forty.”

Why did women do that to themselves?  By the time they’d tucked, pulled, chiseled, stapled and bleached, they were all cookie cutter images of one another.

“’Poor girl’, huh?  You go from wanting to scratch her eyes out, to ‘poor girl’ in the time it takes to say ‘plastic surgery’?”

She grinned at him with a sheepish expression and shrugged.  “It’s easier to be generous when I don’t feel threatened.”

“I totally love your shameless honesty,” he laughed.  “I’ll find out who her doc was and we’ll avoid him at all costs, okay?”

The indirect suggestion for plastic surgery prompted a twinge of self-doubt for Allegra.  As she’d found herself with some downtime lately, Google had become a hobby of sorts.  On any given day, she’d type in half a dozen haphazard things and troll through the results.  She’d learned a variety of things:  yak’s milk is pink, why women over thirty-five really shouldn’t take birth control pills and the best tattoo artists in the country.  Oh, and complete listing of Richie’s exes.  The rest of the free world knew who he’d dated, why shouldn’t she? 

Heather, Denise, Cher, Ally.  All very beautiful, and all very Hollywood.  It was disturbing that he may be mentally comparing her to those women.  And perhaps subtly hinting that she needed work done to meet the standards they’d set?

He’d better not be.

Not wanting to pick a fight, she decided to overlook the comment for now.   After all, it could just be a harmless, offhand remark. 

Besides, she still had to tell him about meeting her parents.  That would be enough unpleasantness to finish out the day.  No need to add anything extra to the mix.

“My parents would like to meet you.”

Richie knitted his brow in concentration.  “Did you signal for that change of topic?  Because if you did, I missed it.”

“No, it was really that random.”

She burrowed under his arm, until he finally wrapped it around her shoulders.  Snuggling in, she recited a minimal amount of details about Friday night’s encounter with her parents.

“I told you Mama and Daddy invited me for dinner after the whole ugly scene on Monday.  Well, I went to see them on Friday.  It was agreeable enough, until they found out I was seeing someone.  They went into overprotective psycho parent mode, asking all sorts of questions and generally being ridiculous.  I told them who you were, and now they want to meet you.”

A slight adjustment to the order of events allowed her to keep his pride intact.  Hopefully, he would never need to know that side of her mother.  It had taken thirty-nine years before SHE had seen that side.

“Of course,” he agreed without hesitation.  “They live in Jersey, right?”

“Yeah, not too far from Uncle John and Aunt Carol.”

“We’re in Philly next week.  Why don’t we do the whole family dinner thing?  I’d like you to meet Ma, too.  Maybe John and Carol, your parents, Ma, Jon and D, you and me?”

Initially, Allegra started to refuse.  Her mother may not behave like Miss Congeniality, and she didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of Richie and his mother.  She’d opened her mouth to decline, when it occurred to her that the others may act as a friendly reminder for Therese to remain… well, friendly.

“I think that sounds like a good idea.  Although I think I’m getting the better end of the deal.  There’s only one sweet Sambora to me meet, while you have two crazy Castanellis.”

There was always the chance that it would be a simple, pleasant family dinner – even with four Bongiovis in attendance. 

It could happen.