One Hundred Thirty-One

Richie stared morosely out the plane window, silent headphones stuck in his ears to avoid conversation until he could get out of this shitty mood.  It had taken Jon only half a second to recognize the look in his eye and steer himself the other direction when they met at the airport. 

It had been ten days and the paternity test was still grating against Richie’s nerves.  He wished he had never let them stick that swab in his mouth. 

The fact that he wouldn’t be in the country for Allegra’s next appointment had no more left his mouth than Dr. Shively had appropriated his DNA by cramming a big Q-tip in his jaw.  Now, not only did he not want the test, he wouldn’t even be there for it.  That didn’t improve his opinion in the slightest.

He was also still kicking himself that he’d let them do this without asking more questions, especially about the amniocentesis.  Heather didn’t have the procedure and he was unfamiliar with it, so afterward he asked Allegra to fill him in on what she knew.  Upon hearing the details, he wasted no time in breaking it down to its simplest factor.  “So if there’s something wrong with the baby do you want to abort it?”

She’d been aghast that he would even say such a thing.  “Of course not!” instantly fell from her lips, convincing him of her sincerity.

“Then what difference does it make?  Why have all this testing done if we’re keeping the baby regardless of what the results are?”

Then his strong, fiercely independent girlfriend had looked at him with uncertainty in her big blue eyes, and softly said, “Richie, I’ve never done this before.  The only thing I know for sure is that, from the minute it’s born, this baby needs me to have my act together and care for it.  If it’s going to be something besides a healthy child then I need a chance to prepare myself for that reality.  I can’t afford the time it will take to have a nervous breakdown and come to terms with it after the birth.”

And he couldn’t fault her in the least.  It was the smart, responsible thing to do.

The churning in his stomach still hadn’t let up, though.  The right thing to do or not, he didn’t want to know if that tiny little miracle wasn’t his miracle.  Oh, he would still want to be the baby’s daddy, even if he wasn’t the father.  It would take some getting used to, but that wasn’t the real issue.  

Allegra was the issue.

Who knew what kind of freaky woman logic she would fabricate, and to what lengths she would travel to save him from himself?  This relationship was doomed to be forever fucked up if the baby wasn’t his. 

“Yo.”  Tico fell into the seat next to his and tugged on the wire coming from Richie’s earphone until it fell free.  He’d watched the guitarist brood for the last hour, giving him the opportunity to work out his bad mood.  Seeing as he was still scowling at the clouds, it was time for an intervention. 

“Yo yo’self,”  Richie grumbled, removing the other earphone as well, wrapping the cord around his hand.

“What’s wrong with you man?”

Discussing the paternity test was pointless, so Richie went with the other thing that had him unfit for socializing.  He also suspected it was the real reason Jon had headed the other direction.

“Allegra and I had a fight before I left and I can’t seem to let it go.”

The older man crossed his legs and settled in to lend a friendly ear, completely unfazed to hear Allegra’s name as the source of Richie’s discontent.  This one woman had rattled his friend more times in the last few months than all the women before her combined, and he’d be glad when they got themselves straightened out.  Even with all the crazy shit that had gone on, his brother needed this woman.  She was the antithesis of the Hollywood starlets and socialites that had been filling Richie’s life for too many years.

On the flip side of that, Tico had quickly developed a soft spot for the former Sister and knew Richie would take excellent care of her – in spite of herself. 

“What was the fight about?”

“Money.”  Richie tipped his head back against the seat and closed his eyes while Tico played deliberately obtuse.

“She needs money?”

The other man snorted.  “Not according to her.  I swear to God she’d live off nuts and berries in the fucking woods to keep from taking my money.”

“Sounds like you need to talk and I’ve got nothing but time to kill.  Tell me what happened.”

Allegra had her arms looped around his neck telling him how much she would miss him, when a lightning bolt struck him.  Drawing back, he said, “Baby, did you write down your checking account information like I asked you to?”

A frown took her face from wistful to cantankerous.  “I did, but I still don’t understand why you need it.”

Richie sighed and prayed for patience.  She knew why, she just didn’t agree with it.  “There are things you’re going to need during the month that I’m in Europe, so I’m depositing some money in your account.  You’re also going to need tuition when you find the classes you’re looking for.”

She’d crossed her arms and glared at him.  “I’ve told you that I don’t want to be a kept woman.  What part of that don’t you get?”

“I love you and the baby you’re carrying,” he explained with exaggerated care, feeling like he’d been through this spiel over and over again.  She was deliberately being difficult. “And I’m gonna see to it that you’re both taken care of.  What part of that don’t you get?”

“I still have money of my own.  We’ll be fine.  As far as the classes go, I talked to Jon and he’s going to loan me the tuition money.”

That, along with her stubborn chin pointing up in the air, had set the vein in his temple to throbbing.  “Jon is paying for your tuition?  Jon is paying for your tuition,” he repeated in disbelief. “Tremendous.”

“Jon is loaning me the money for my tuition.  Big difference.”  She positioned her hands in front of her, a shoulder’s width apart, in case he needed a visual.  Helpful as it was, all it did was make him growl with irritation.

“Allegra, why are you refusing to let this be a real relationship?  You keep fighting me on this, and no matter how many times I beat my head against the fuckin’ wall, I can’t figure it out.”

Her lips pursed at him, and despite her inexperience with the subject matter, he knew he was the one who was about to feel relationship illiterate. 

“It is a real relationship.  A dating relationship.  Why do you insist on trying to take care of me as though I were your wife instead of your girlfriend?  I may be new at this, but I’m pretty sure that you’re jumping several steps ahead of where we are.  It’s not your job to provide my financial security just because you can.”

A long-suffering sigh rattled from his lungs.

“Don’t do that,” she snapped, eyes blazing with annoyance.  “I’m not wrong just because it contradicts what you want to do.”

“Fine.”  He held his hands up in surrender, mouth drawn tight.  “You’re right.  I’m being completely unreasonable and overbearing, but my baby and girlfriend aren’t going to live penniless if I can help it.  I’m putting money in the damn account.  Use it or don’t use it, but let me fuckin’ sleep at night knowing it’s there if you need it.”

That was Richie’s bon voyage this morning.  The last thing he said to the woman he loved before a month long separation.  She made him absolutely nuts sometimes, and he hated it.

“She’s right.” 

Richie’s head snapped up and he nailed Tico with a nasty ‘go to hell’ look, showing remarkable restraint in keeping the actual words bottled inside. 

“But,” the drummer conceded with hands held up in self-defense, “I would do exactly what you did in the same situation.”  Scratching his head, he tried to decide what really bothered Richie about the whole thing.  “Let me ask you a question.  Are you pissed over the money, or the fact that she isn’t afraid to argue with you?  ‘Cause honestly, man, I can’t remember hearing you ever fight with Heather.”

“Heather and I didn’t actually fight, I guess.”  Richie visibly tried to relax himself, rolling his shoulders and sinking back against the seat.  “Most of the time I didn’t know she was mad about anything until the credit card bill showed up.  She had a tendency to spend money when she was pissed.”

Which only cemented Tico’s point.  Heather bottled up all that emotion until it ate away at her and their marriage, prompting her to file for divorce.   Getting it out there in the open was much healthier for everyone involved. 

“You know, the same thing happened all the time with my second wife, Eva.  She’d get pissed over something little and expect me to magically know what I’d done wrong.  Inevitably, when I was too thick to see the error of my ways, she would make me pay – either by spending a ridiculous amount of money or by shutting me out of the bedroom.  It was annoying as hell.”

He shook his head at the memory.  Eva had been a model and cut from the same mold as Richie’s ex – it was all about appearances.  There wouldn’t be anything as tacky as a shouting match, because it would ruin the illusion of the perfect marriage.    

“Now Alejandra,” Tico went on.  “She’s different.  She’s a passionate woman that’s been known to scream like a banshee when she’s pissed at me, but I never have to wonder what the hell I’ve done wrong – she’s more than willing to tell me.  Then I apologize or explain myself and we have amazing make-up sex.” 

He clapped Richie on the shoulder with a deep chuckle.  “My friend, there’s a lot to be said for a woman who isn’t afraid to speak her mind.”

“Amen to that, Brother Teek,” Jon proclaimed with a hallelujah chorus, taking the third of the four seat grouping.

His commentary earned him no more than a scornful glare from his guitarist.

“Teek, can you give us a minute?”  Jon requested, but the Cubano was already on his feet.

“Yeah, I got it.  But Rich…”  He pointed a thick finger toward Richie.  “Think about what I said.  It’s better to get pissed and move on than to have it hover below the surface like a ticking time bomb.”

Richie’s dark head dipped in acknowledgement before returning to gaze out over a slice of Atlantic Ocean so large, it didn’t seem like the plane was even moving.

“You gonna tell me what’s up your ass, or do I get to guess?”  Jon wondered how many of these types of conversations loomed on his horizon.  He hated this juggling act of being put in between his best friend and cousin, yet he’d allowed Allegra to do it anyway. 

“You know damn well what it is, or at least you should,” was the surly response.

Jon sighed.  Yet another bullet that he was unsuccessful in dodging.  “Listen, man, you and I should set some ground rules when it comes to Allegra.”

“That sounds like a hell of a plan.  Let’s start with you not undermining what I’m trying to do here.”

“I’m not undermining anything,” Jon objected, meeting Richie’s eyes without guilt.  “She told Dot she was going to try and get a student loan, which is ridiculous.”

“At least we agree on that.”

Jon ignored the sarcasm, and the chime of an incoming text message from Richie’s phone. 

“So I had a contract drawn up for her tuition money.  In return, she’ll either do pro bono work on behalf of the Foundation or Bon Jovi Management for a specified period of time.  Alternatively, after she graduates she can repay the loan on a monthly basis with no interest.   We have a formal, legal agreement with all the terms spelled out because that’s what she wanted.” 

“I would’ve just given her the money, and you know it.  She’s mine to take care of Jon.”  Richie wasn’t softening any, his back still stiff with attitude.

“Bro, Allegra was mine for a hell of a long time before she was yours, and she’ll always be mine because we’re family.  That doesn’t go away.” 

Before Richie could comment, Jon pushed forward with a little of his own attitude.  “While you were busy having your feelings hurt like a little girl, did you stop to think that she lets you take care of her in all the ways that really matter?  Who did she let brush her hair when she was hurt?  Who was the first person she wanted when she found out she was adopted?  Whose hand did she reach for when her mother treated her like a red-headed stepchild?” 

With every word, his conviction grew and Jon knew just how right his assessment was.  He snorted at Richie with disgust.  “Get your head outta your ass, Sambora.  She’s holding onto her financial independence because it’s just money.  She can get that from a million different places.  What you give her can’t come from anybody but you.”  

The anger drained from the guitarist before Jon’s very eyes, to be replaced with a bone-tired weariness and humility. 

“I never thought of it that way.”

“Yeah, well to be fair, neither did I until it came outta my mouth.  The bottom line here is that nine times outta ten, I’m gonna do whatever she asks me to do because she’s my cousin.  Remember that and know it’s not disrespecting you or your place in her life.  If you two ever get married, then I may have to re-evaluate my stance, but that’s the way it is for now.  Capisce?”  Jon leaned forward and held his fist up.

With no more than a second’s hesitation, Richie’s matching fist bumped it lightly.  “Capisce.  I’m sorry, bro.  She gets me so damn tied up in knots sometimes that I can’t think straight.”  Slumping back into his seat, he sighed.  “Shit.  I’m gonna be without her for a month and the last thing we did was bicker over something stupid.”

“Call her,” Jon ordered, gesturing for him to bring out his phone.  “Don’t let it hang out there too long, or Dot will have her plotting revenge on your ass.”

The first genuine smile of the trip crossed Richie’s face and he dug in his pants pocket.  “God knows I don’t want that.  I’ve steered clear of your woman’s wrath since 1992, and I’d like to keep it that way.” 

As Richie flicked the screen to life, Jon rose to give him some privacy, but seeing his friend’s features soften he couldn’t help but ask, “What?”

Richie flipped the phone around so that Jon could see the text message Allegra had sent while they were talking.

I don’t want your trip to start this way.  I’m sorry we argued.  I love you.

Chapter 130

“Nervous?” Richie asked from his seat next to the window.

Allegra was perched on the end of the examination table in Dr. Shively’s office, awaiting the doctor’s arrival in the little room.  Funny how she had no qualms about being naked with Richie, but sitting here in her t-shirt and a piece of tissue paper had her feeling modest.  She crossed her ankles, pinning the paper to the table with her hands at her thighs.

“Yes and no.  I don’t really know what these visits are supposed to be like, so I’m a little apprehensive about what to expect.  Other than that I’m pretty sure, compared to the shock of last time, this will be a piece of cake.”

His favorite black loafers were silent against the tile flooring when he eliminated the handful of steps between them.  “At least you aren’t by yourself today,” he said, drawing lazy circles in the small of her back.

She smiled, ponytail swaying as she tipped her head back to look up into his handsome face.  “No, I’m not.  Thanks for coming with me.”

Since their night in New York City, she was almost afraid to breathe things had been so idyllic.  No arguments, no crazy parents, no soap-opera-come-to-life moments. 

It was a taste of what could be.

The morning after Allegra and Richie’s date, Dot had come waltzing into the guest house kitchen with a gift in tow.

“Hey,” Allegra greeted her from the sink, warily inspecting the box under Dot’s arm.  She was just rinsing out a cereal bowl and juice glass to put in the dishwasher. “What’s that?”

“It’s the beginning of your new life.”

Dot turned the box upright, placing it on the table so that she could fix herself a cup of the aromatic coffee whose scent was flooding the kitchen.

“Excuse me?  What new life?  And you know that’s decaf, right?”

The coffee pot clanked against the maker when Dot slid it back into place.  “Decaf’s fine.  I’ve had too much already this morning.  Is Richie still in bed?” 

Disappointingly enough, he’d stuck to his guns about not sleeping over, leaving her with only one last lingering kiss.  Allegra had expected – hoped – that he would crawl in bed with her through the night, or at least join her this morning, but she’d woken up alone and dissatisfied. 

She didn’t like the feeling at all.  It would be hard enough when he left for Europe, but to sleep alone when he was only yards away was asinine.

“You would know better than I since he stayed in the big house last night.  He told me he didn’t sleep over on a second date.”

Dot nearly choked on her coffee.  “Are you fucking kidding me?” she spluttered, all but dropping her mug on the countertop.  “That must be the only date he doesn’t sleep over.”

Folding her arms across her midriff, Allegra gave her cousin’s wife a scowl.  “Okay, we both know that, but do you have to say it out loud?  You can’t let me pretend he’s never had another woman but me?”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” she apologized, contritely patting her arm.  “Sure I can.  But first, let me make sure my unicorn is still out front.  The Easter Bunny is supposed to stop by and borrow it later.”

Allegra let out a surprised cackle, slapping Dot’s hand away.  “You are so mean!” she accused through her laughter.  “You’ve probably got voodoo dolls in that box, luring me into a new life as a high priestess.”

“Hey.  Love me or hate me, I call it like I see it.”  She went back to reclaim her coffee, leaning against the counter with a nod toward the table.  “The box is yours, and it’s far less interesting than voodoo – or any other – dolls.  Go ahead and open it.”

The size of a pizza box, it was easily twice as deep and contained something heavy enough to create a deep ‘thump’ when Dot had put it down.  Interest had Allegra swiftly lifting the lid to reveal the contents were sheathed with crinkly white tissue paper.  Carefully folding the tissue back, Allegra discovered a soft, black leather book bearing the word ‘Memories’ embossed in gold letters.

“An empty photo album?” she asked lifting the book from its secure nest of paper. 

“Scrapbook, actually.  And it’s not completely empty.  Look at the first page.”

Allegra pushed the empty box away so that there was room to lay the book down flat and did as she was instructed, flipping back the cover of the book. 

Affixed to the page was a picture of herself and Richie, obviously taken before they realized the photographers were in residence last night.  Her hand was held loosely in his, the two of them laughing and looking for all the world like there was no place they’d rather be.

It was the first time she’d seen herself next to him and Allegra couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from curling upward.  They looked really good together. 

“Welcome to your new life – on the arm of a man who lives in the public eye,” Dot toasted her before draining the last swallow of coffee from her mug.

Allegra forcibly dragged her eyes away from the photo, regarding her curiously.  “And that needs a scrapbook?”

“It’s an interesting ride if you don’t let yourself get caught too much in the hype.  I’ve have at least one photo from every event Jon and I have attended.  It’s nice to go back and reminisce sometimes.”

Allegra tucked the scrapbook in one arm and brought her cousin’s wife – no, her friend – close in a heartfelt embrace.  “Just when I think you’re bad to the bone, it turns out you have a sentimental side.  Thank you.”

“I’m a woman.  It happens,” she said with a flip of her wrist.  “Just remember that the baby gets its own book when the time comes.  Someday he or she will appreciate it.

Although she’d never considered a scrapbook for the baby, Allegra knew what the first picture should be.

“In a couple of visits, we’ll get ultrasound pictures.”  Richie reached into her thoughts, transporting her back to the present, where she was wearing tissue paper instead of unwrapping it.  He cleared his throat before asking, “Do you want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“It seems more practical.  What do you think?”

Allegra was concerned that he may be getting sick.  Hershey had been cool and damp, to the point that he’d asked her to stay home instead of coming to the show.  She’d refused, wanting to experience her first outdoor event, but had bundled up and stayed at the edge of the stage out of the wind.  He hadn’t had that luxury.

Tender lips pressed against her temple and a large, tanned hand came to rest on her still flat stomach. 

“I’ll leave it up to you,” Richie deferred on the issue of the baby’s gender.  “Doodlebug and I are fine either way.”

“Doodlebug?”

“You said you didn’t like Munchkin,” he reminded her with a shrug.  “So I found something else to call the baby.”

With one sharp rap, the door swung inward and Allegra didn’t have time to do anything but give him a squeeze before Dr. Shively joined them in the exam room.

“Allegra it’s good to see you again.”  She approached Richie with an outstretched hand.  “I don’t believe we’ve met.  I’m Dr. Shively.”

Richie greeted the doctor with a smile and warm handshake.  “Richie Sambora.  Nice to meet you, Doc.”

“Allegra, how are things going?” the doctor proceeded after nodding in acknowledgement.  “Any cramping or spotting?  Is the morning sickness too bad?”

“No.  No cramping or spotting, and… Well, I haven’t had any morning sickness.  Should I be concerned?”

The doctor laughed.  “No, just consider yourself blessed.  We don’t know why, but not everyone is subject to that aspect of pregnancy.”

The appointment continued with Dr. Shively performing a quick pelvic exam while Richie stood at Allegra’s shoulder, then asking a few more questions. 

“Okay Allegra, now comes the fun part,” she told her with a smile, redistributing the tissue paper over her thighs to reveal her lower abdomen.  “Let’s listen to your baby’s heartbeat.”

Round blue eyes darted to find Richie smiling right along with the doctor and her fingers crept out to tangle with his even as she sucked in a breath at the touch of cold gel being applied to her stomach.

Within a moment, the doctor was dragging a small wand over the gelled area and a pulsing noise was coming from the attached monitor.  She took a moment to allow them to familiarize themselves with the sound.

“Now that’s your heartbeat,” she explained, before moving the wand back and forth until a different noise filtered from the monitor.  It sounded like Allegra’s heartbeat, only faster and lighter, like a hummingbird.  “And that’s your baby.”

“Ohhh.”  Wonder filled Allegra’s eyes and her fingers clenched Richie’s more tightly with every beat that resonated in the little room, until he laughed.

He dropped a kiss to the top of her head, saying, “Baby, I’m gonna need those later.  I’ve gotta earn a living, ya know.”

She immediately released him with baleful eyes, completely unaware of what she’d been doing. “I’m sorry.  I got excited.”

“I know you did.  It’s the first time I’ve seen you truly excited over the baby.”

“How can I not be?  I heard our baby’s heartbeat!  It’s a real little person.”

His dimple winked at her.  “Yeah.  It is.”

“Okay, Allegra, I think that’s it then for this time,” the doctor interrupted, wiping the goo away and storing the instrument in a drawer.  “The receptionist will set up your appointment for next month, and we’ll do the paternity test and an amniocentesis.  You read about that in the literature I gave you last time?”

She didn’t have a chance to respond before Richie was firmly stating, “There isn’t going to be a paternity test.”

“Oh.” The older woman’s brow creased with confusion.

“Richie’s my boyfriend,” Allegra explained.  “He says he doesn’t need or want a paternity test to verify that he’s the father.”

“That’s quite admirable Mr. Sambora, but I would still recommend a paternity test.”  She shucked her gloves and recovered Allegra’s chart from the countertop.

“Doctor, no disrespect, but you can give your recommendation all day long and it won’t change my mind.  I’ll tell you just like I’ve told everyone else – this baby is mine and I don’t need a lab to prove it.”

Dr. Shively’s shifted from Allegra’s chart, up and over her spectacles, to Richie.  “And no disrespect to you Mr. Sambora, but the paternity test is about more than ownership.”

Allegra felt Richie stiffen at her side and reached for him.  “I don’t think I understand.  What else could the paternity test help with?”

Resting the chart flat against her chest and folding her arms around it, the doctor patiently clarified, “If you read the information on amniocentesis, then you understand why we feel it’s a necessary precaution to test for potential problems with the fetus considering your age, Allegra.  Knowing the paternity will let us know what additional tests need to be conducted to ensure that everything is going along as expected.  Mr. Sambora’s age and heredity could be a significant contributing factor to genetic abnormalities.”

Genetic abnormalities.  Allegra’s excitement downgraded to trepidation.  She’d just gotten used to the idea that this baby was a real thing and now they were talking about abnormalities.  Thank God she didn’t have to do this alone, but would he agree to the test?

 “Richie?”  She placed her hand on his arm with an inquiring look.

“No.”

Her eyes slid helplessly to the doctor.  “I’m sorry, but if he doesn’t want it, I won’t do it against his wishes.”

Dr. Shively was seemingly unfazed by the reaction.  “Of course, that decision is up to you.”  She directed her sights back on Richie.  “Mr. Sambora do you have siblings?”

“No, I’m an only child.”

“I see.  Any particular reason why?”

“It just didn’t work out.  My mother had trouble carrying a baby to term.”

“Uh huh.”  The doctor scribbled some notations in Allegra’s file.  “And do you know why?”

“No, not really.”

“Well, what ethnic origin are your parents?”

“Polish-Italian.”  Richie was getting irritable and defensive.  “Listen, I have one normal, healthy daughter already, so there’s no reason to believe this child would be any different.”

She smiled benignly at him.  “That’s excellent news.  How old is your daughter?”

“Thirteen.”

“And is her mother of Italian descent?”

“Heather?” he scoffed.  “No, not even close.”

“Well then.”  She pushed her glasses up so that she could see him clearly.  “That makes two significant differences between these children.  One:  you and your sperm are not in the same shape you were thirteen years ago.  Two:  since Allegra is of Italian origin, the chance of genetic incidents manifesting themselves in those of Mediterranean descent at least doubles.  Considering that your parents were only able to produce one live offspring, I’d say the odds are greater than that.”  She delivered her monologue directly to Richie, gaze never wavering.  “Now, do you really want to take that chance?”

The tension ticked away in Richie’s jaw as he absorbed the information the doctor had bombarded him with. 

Allegra empathized, sharing his reluctance over the paternity test.  There was every chance in the world that his feelings toward the baby – and her – would change if he wasn’t the father.  But regardless of what they wanted, didn’t they owe it to that tiny heartbeat inside her tummy?  As parents-to-be, wasn’t it their responsibility to ensure that its little life was as perfect as they could make it?

Richie evidently came to that same conclusion.

“Do the damn test.”

One Hundred Twenty-Nine

It’s your choice, baby.

The words were on a continuous loop, replaying over and over in Allegra’s mind throughout the remainder of dinner.  Could it really be that simple?  And if so, was she ready to step forward and make that choice?  Betrayal was still simmering brightly just below the surface, and she couldn’t help but feel she deserved some type of amends… or something.  After all, she hadn’t done anything wrong.  She’d done everything by the book for as long as she could remember.  How could she possibly be at fault here? 

And how immature was it to want an apology from God?

Richie watched her woodenly fork the cheesecake past her lips without so much as a murmur of approval for its fluffy texture or rich decadence.  The sinful caramel that she’d been so enamored with earlier didn’t even get a hum of appreciation.

Quietly devouring his own strawberry cheesecake, Richie stifled a sigh.

There was a reason he didn’t often wax philosophical – it weirded people out.  He’d leaned toward psychology in his brief collegiate stint because he had an affinity for human nature and the ability to put things together in a different light than the rest of the world.  That abstract view of the world served him well in songwriting, but in everyday life – well, sometimes it worked to his advantage and sometimes it didn’t. 

So yeah, it wasn’t a secret to him that most people weren’t on the same wavelength that he frequented, but he had thought – hoped – Allegra might get it.  Instead he was afraid he’d driven her further from what she was looking for.   

The espresso cup jangled against its saucer after he’d relieved it of the few lingering drops in the bottom.  He pushed the credit card back in his wallet and looked to see that her dessert plate and soda glass were both empty.  “Ready to go, Sunshine?”  Richie broke the prolonged silence.

An automatic smile pasted itself on her lips and she blinked a couple of times, bringing his face into focus.  “Hmm?  Oh, sure.  Whenever you are.”

Richie offered his hand to help her from the booth, bending to capture her lips in a brief kiss when she stood before him.  “I love you,” he murmured.  “I’m sorry for letting things get so heavy.  Whaddaya say we go have some fun now, so you don’t hafta tell everybody what a crappy date I am?”

“You aren’t a crappy date,” she protested trailing out of the restaurant behind him, hands still clasped tightly.  “It’s my fault I got caught up in my own thoughts for a while.  I’m sorry I drifted away on you.”

He handed her into the back of the car with an impish grin, obviously taking his own advice to move on with the evening.  “Did I tell you how pissed Dave was when I called to ask him for tickets?”

“Oh no,” she said, wincing.  “He’s mad that we didn’t go him the other night?”

The driver pulled out into surprisingly light Wednesday night traffic, guiding them toward the Shubert Theatre, where Memphis was in residence.

Richie snorted with laughter.  “Hell no, he doesn’t care about that.  He wants to be there so he can hear you ooh and aah over his baby.”

“Oh.  Well, I guess we could have waited until another night when he wasn’t busy.”

“He wasn’t busy.  I politely asked for the tickets and told him to fuck off – it’s date night and he wasn’t invited.”

Allegra tried not to smile, but she couldn’t help herself.  As much as she loved David, she was loving being out with Richie tonight even more.

“He loves you, ya know.”

The tone was casual, without any heat, making her assume that he wasn’t angry about the fact.  So she answered him with the truth.  “I love him too.”

“I know you do, and quite honestly, it took me a while to be okay with that.  In all the years I’ve known him, Lemma has never been so into a girl that he didn’t want to fuck.  He had to do a lot of screaming in my face to make me see that it was different with you.” 

They arrived in front of the theatre, and Richie escorted her to the box office where their tickets awaited.  “You should have two tickets for Sambora,” he informed the woman seated behind the glass partition.

She obediently flipped through the smattering of envelopes at her right hand, but shook her head regretfully.  “No, sir, I’m sorry.  I do have a note here for a Mr. Sambora though.”  She slid the folded piece of paper out the opening cut in the window. 

“Thank you,” he growled as politely as he could, snatching up the paper.  He was going to kill David for screwing this up.

See what you get for being mean to me, fucker?  No tickets for YOU! 

However, I do have two tickets set aside for the beautiful young lady named Legs.  Make sure she takes notes!  I want to know what she thinks of the REAL musical talent in the band.

Love you guys

DB

“Crazy ass son of a bitch,” Richie mumbled, crumpling the note and stuffing it into his pocket.  Allegra, who had been reading over his shoulder, was already on her way back to the window, her tinkling laughter floating back to him on the breeze.  In a matter of seconds, she was waving an envelope with ‘Legs’ scrawled across the front.

Richie glowered fiercely and waggled his finger at her.  “You stay away from him, do you hear me?  He’s an evil prick.”

Slipping a hand inside his open shirt, Allegra allowed his heat to warm her from palm to fingertips as she levered up to peck his cheek.  “Have I ever told you how much I love it when you guys bicker?  It makes me feel like I didn’t miss out on your childhoods.”

Lips twitching in a barely controlled smile, he latched onto her hand, hauling her to the theatre entrance. 

“Tut, tut, tut,” she chided, keeping the envelope out of his reaching grasp as they approached the usher.  “These tickets are in my name.  If you’re gonna pout, I can always go by myself.”

“Then that won’t be the only thing you do by yourself tonight,” he promised with a menacing arch of his brow.

“That’s fine,” she assured him with a saucy wink, handing one of the passes to the young man collecting tickets.  “Somebody taught me how to take very good care of myself.”

“Brat,” he growled, the twinkle in his eye undermining any pretense of fierceness.

“Ah, ah, ah.”  Allegra taunted him as he stood on the sidewalk, waving his ticket from just inside the lobby.  “Be nice, or you can’t have this.”

Oh really, little girl?  You don’t know who you’re messing with.

Richie stuck out his hand to the theatre employee and fired up his most congenial smile.  “Hey Kyle, how ya been man?  Still dating that cute little usherette in the balcony?”

Allegra snapped her jaw closed and rolled her eyes with disgust when the guy replied cheerfully, “Sure am Mr. Sambora.  It’s good to see you again.  Mr. Bryan said to take extra special care of you and your date this evening, so go right on in.”

“Thanks, man.  You take it easy.”

He slipped his arm around Allegra’s waist and brought his lips to her ear.  “What was that about me having to be nice?”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you played the celebrity card,” she groused, digging a playful elbow into his stomach.  “Have you no shame?”

“Whatever it takes, baby.  Whatever it takes.”  Having a woman on his arm hadn’t made him feel this cocky in a long time, and the lively banter only served to lift his mood higher.  Richie no longer begrudged Allegra her date – he was enjoying the hell out of it and her.

Two hours later they were exiting the theatre, playfully arguing about which songs were the best.

“I loved “Memphis Lives in Me”,” Allegra insisted.  “I can just hear David singing it.”

“That’s because he does sing it and he’s completely burnt me out on it,” Richie informed her.  “I really dig “Underground” though.  I can see me doing that song.”

He was guiding her to the car, hand under her elbow when Allegra noticed all the camera flashes reflecting brightly off the cars and buildings around the theatre.  She idly thought somebody important must have been at the show.

“Richie!  This way, Richie!”

Shock widened her eyes and she stopped suddenly, stumbling when Richie bumped into her.  “It’s okay, just keep moving,” he murmured, a smile plastered across his face as he waved to the photographer with his free hand.

“Who’s the lucky lady, Rich?” a voice rose above the din.

“Dude, I’m the lucky one.”  His smile didn’t waver and Richie never broke stride, his grip on her firm and sure as they approached the curb.  The driver was waiting to hand them into the back seat.

“New girlfriend?” the mysterious voice pushed.  “Or just a flavor of the week?”

Halfway into the vehicle’s interior, Allegra’s chin snapped around just in time to see the professional smile falter just a bit.  There was a brief hesitation as brown eyes silently inquired of blue as to what she wanted him to say.

“Your call,” she said in a low voice, scooting across the black leather to make room.

“I’m way too old for a flavor of the week, man,” Richie laughed, ducking into the car.  “And the lady deserves more respect than that.”

With that, the driver slammed the door, plunging them into solitude behind the tinted glass.

Allegra released the breath that had been residing in her lungs for about thirty seconds too long and tried to relax into the seat.  Being the subject of a dozen impromptu photographs had been nowhere on her list of things to do tonight.  She laughed to herself.  And if she’d known it was a possibility, she still would have left it off the list.  It wasn’t something she was anxious to repeat.

At least she hadn’t done anything to embarrass herself or him.  She hoped.

Richie turned in the seat, brushing the hair back from her face.  “Okay?”

Shaking off her nerves, she smiled reassuringly.  “Of course it’s okay.  You’re the celebrity here.  Whatever makes your life easier.”

“No,” he contradicted, weaving their fingers together.  “My life doesn’t take precedence over yours.  This is an ‘us’ thing, remember?”

“I know that, but you’re going to have to lead me along for a little while until I can get used to… whatever that was.  Although I’ve gotta wonder if I can used to it.”  She shook her head in doubt before shrugging delicately.  “And as far as what you said to him, I assume you know best when it comes to the press.”

“Thank you for that.”

“Thank you for not calling me a flavor of the week.”

He treated her to an exceptionally naughty grin.  “That doesn’t mean I won’t be tasting you, just in case there was any confusion.”   

Allegra whimpered as his thick tongue swept into take possession of her.  The lingering taste of coffee mixed with Richie’s flavor as she gave him free reign to plunder the silky recesses of her mouth.  His lips were so soft that her tongue couldn’t resist the temptation to flit out and stroke against their fullness.

“Damn, baby.  I’ve been waiting all evening for that,” he rasped when they were forced to surface for air.  One swift yank had Allegra firmly straddled across his lap, skirt riding high and she could feel her heat pressing against the growing bulge in his slacks.  His hands were nearly as hot, sweeping up her outer thighs and almost scorching the skin that fell under his touch.

“You aren’t the only one,” she breathed, rocking against the hard ridge that his zipper cloaked.  She fell forward to gobble those precious pouty lips and his moan of pleasure filled her mouth as readily as his hands filled her panties, cupping her backside.  The ache to press herself to him until they were no longer separate bodies had her grinding against him, the skimpy scrap of lace under her dress drenched with desire.

It was tit for tat.  For every minute that Allegra regained her senses and realized they were in the back of moving car, Richie pulled her back into the sea of forgetfulness with the undertow of his touch.  The swirling cloud of passion had her so addled that she didn’t even notice they had left the city until the car pulled through the gates at Jon’s house.

Her cheeks were rosy from the frenzied ‘make-out’ session, her hair hopelessly tousled from Richie’s hands, and her womanhood primed and ready from his teasing.  No amount of begging and pleading had convinced him to give in to anything beyond heavy petting. 

Allegra was so frustrated she could scream.

The car came to a halt, and she bounded from his lap, prying open the car door in the blink of an eye.  Stumbling down the path, she dragged a chuckling Richie behind her as fast as he would move.  The size of his… pants… was making it a little difficult to walk.

“Come on,” Allegra puffed, reveling in the cool breeze that wafted across her flushed skin.   The weeks and days before she’d actually had Richie in her bed didn’t even touch the level of anticipation and frustration she was experiencing now.  Now she knew what he was capable of – what he made her capable of.

And I damn well want it all!

Her fingers curled around the doorknob of the guest house, prepared to shove through the entrance and take him right there in the foyer. 

But Richie had other ideas.

“Wait a minute.”  His feet planted themselves firmly on the porch flooring.  “Aren’t you going to tell me what a nice time you had?”

“I’d love to, but at the moment I’m thinking how much nicer it’s about to get.”  She gave another pull on his hand, but he was determined not to budge.

“I go to all the trouble of getting a helicopter and willingly put up with David’s bullshit and you only want me for my body.”  His bottom lip doubled in size when he pushed it out in an exaggerated pout.

Okay, Allegra.  He went to a lot of trouble.  Play nice.  THEN jump him.

“Now you know that’s not true.”  She curled herself around him, pressing a kiss in the open vee of his shirt.  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the trouble you went through.  You treated me like a princess, and I won’t ever forget this night as long as I live.”

The pout receded and his expression became somber.  “Really?”

“Really.”

“That makes me very happy.  Thank you for going out with me.”  He brushed her lips with a feather-light kiss and stepped backward to the middle of the porch.  “Good night, Allegra.”

WHAT?!?!

“Good… goo- what do you mean good night?” she stuttered.  “You’re coming inside and going to bed with me, aren’t you?”

He gave a single shake of his head, a regretful smile tingeing his face.  “Not tonight, baby.  You wanted to real date experience, and this is it.  I don’t sleep over on a second date.”

Allegra wasn’t sure how she did it, but she was proud that her foot didn’t stomp up and down like a petulant child.  “Bullshit!  You’ve slept with women you’ve never had a second date with.”

“That’s true, but I never had a first date with them either.  Hook-ups and booty calls are completely different from dating.  If I like a woman enough to ask her out on a real date, I want her to know she’s more to me than that.”  His thumb stroked tenderly across her bottom lip.  “And you’re much more than that.”

With a loud ‘harrumph’ she  propped her fists on her hips and pinned him with a look.  “You do know I’m pregnant right?  The baby’s pretty much proof that I’ll put out for you.”

Dimples sprang to life as laughter bubbled out of him.  “I had a sneaking suspicion you might,” he said before sobering again.  “But you were right, Sunshine.  Nothing about this relationship has been normal.  So let tonight be normal.  Let’s be John Q. Public and Jane Doe sharing a good night kiss at the end of a date before we go to our separate beds.”

What was the old saying?  Be careful what you wish for, it may come true? 

She wanted to hit him.  Or hate him.  Or something.  But she couldn’t.  He was only giving her what she’d asked for.  In actuality it was very sweet. 

Unfortunately sweet didn’t satisfy the need in her soaking panties.

“Sometime, someday could you not be so damn considerate and accommodating?  Tell me that I don’t know what I want and take over.  Please?”

He squeezed all the air and a helpless squeak from her with a big bear hug, her high heels dangling in the air as his chest rumbled with humor.  “Damn if that doesn’t sound like fun.”

Chapter 128

Allegra finger fluffed her hair once more, taking a quick, final inventory in the mirror.

Her hair was extra-wavy tonight, as she had taken the time to scrunch it up while blow drying it.  She’d swept only the very front part away from her face with a pretty gold clip, the rest fluttering around her shoulders in a silky curtain almost as inky as the little black dress she was wearing.  The diamond earrings from Jon and Dot sparkled in her ears and a light application of makeup enhanced her blue eyes, high cheekbones and pouty lips. 

She was pleased with the results.  She felt pretty tonight. 

But pretty enough to be seen on the arm of a rock star?  That she wasn’t so sure about.

Or at least she wasn’t sure about it until she stepped out onto the guest house porch and saw Richie’s jaw go slack.  She felt his velvety brown gaze sweep upward from the flirty jersey skirt that swirled just above her knees to the nipped in waist gathered at one side.   Those same eyes darkened when they reached the criss-crossed Queen Anne neckline that lovingly cupped her breasts and showcased her cleavage in a way that was sexy, yet not trashy. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he breathed across her knuckles as he brought her hand up for a kiss.

Yeah.  She was pretty enough.

All the dazzle she possessed went into blinding him with her smile.  “Thank you.”

This was her first look at him this evening.  He’d thoughtfully taken his things and gone into the blue bedroom so that she could have the privacy of the brown bedroom to get ready.  Like a real date.

She slowly perused his dark slacks and grey silk button down shirt with appreciation.  The shirt had only the bottom three buttons fastened, leaving a wide expanse of chest to display his crystal necklace on its thick silver chain. 

“You look pretty stunning yourself,” she observed, feeling the now familiar flush of desire.  Oddly enough, the fact that he was technically dressed made that tanned stretch of skin even more alluring.

He dimpled with delight as he offered her his arm.  “I’m glad m’lady approves.”

Richie helped her navigate the three porch steps in her high black heels before guiding her down one of the paths on the property.  To her surprise it was a path that led away from the garage.

“Where are we going?”  He was steering her to a part of the property she hadn’t had occasion to visit, mainly because it was just a big expanse of lawn.

She sucked in a breath, feet coming to an abrupt halt.

This evening that big expanse of lawn was occupied by a helicopter.

He grinned again, obviously pleased with her reaction.  “Ever ridden in a whirly bird?”

Eyes wide, she shook her head.  “Where in the world did you get a helicopter?”

“It’s Jon’s.  C’mon.  We have dinner reservations at six.” 

Allegra felt like Cinderella.  The vibrant sunset lighting up the Manhattan skyline with its brilliant reds and purples, a bird’s eye view of Central Park, and swooping near enough to Lady Liberty’s torch that she could touch it were things that mere mortals only dreamed of.  When Richie clasped her hand in his and she turned to find him staring with a look of enchantment – not at the view, but at her – she thought it was a dream. 

Her pumpkin coach deposited them on the roof of a huge building – she couldn’t tell which one – so that they could vanish into a private elevator plummeting them to street level where a car and driver were waiting to whisk them away to dinner.

As in all good dreams, they made their reservation time on the dot.  At exactly six o’clock they were being seated in the back of an exclusive Italian restaurant near the Theatre District that Richie had been to once before.  He assured her that she would love not only the food, but the quiet, romantic atmosphere. 

They had placed their orders with a charming waiter named Giuseppe and Allegra sipped her bubbly Italian soda when Richie leaned in close, forearms resting on the table.  “Tell me something that I don’t know about you.”

Wow.  Never mind all the hours they’d spent talking on the phone and in bed over the last weeks.   He was going all out to craft a perfect date.  A sweet warmth infused her and she willingly went down the trail he’d set.

“Gee, I don’t know.  That’s a hard question to answer out of the blue.”  She twirled the straw in her soda, bumping the strawberry garnish into the fizzy concoction with a tiny splash.  “Why don’t you go first, and give me a minute to come up with something.”

“Okay.  I’m color blind.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion.  “You mean you can’t see any colors?”

He gave her a lopsided grin.  “No, I can see colors.  Technically I’m red-green colorblind, but I still think that’s a dumbass terminology for it.  Color confused is more accurate.  I can’t distinguish between shades of red or green very well.”

“So my killer red dress in Seattle…?”

“Oh I knew that without a doubt.  It was too hot to be any color but red.”  Richie’s nostrils flared at the memory and he cleared his throat.  “Your turn, Sunshine.”

Allegra couldn’t think of a single thing that was comparable to that.  She felt like Richie knew everything about her already.  What trivial thing might make for interesting dinner conversation?

“Well, at the risk of being banished from womanhood, chocolate is no longer the dessert I crave over everything else.  I was a certified chocoholic for my entire life, but in the last few years it’s just lost the appeal.”

“Oh yeah?  What does it for you now?”

You do.

He was what she craved.  His touch, his tenderness and passion – even his sometimes obnoxious guy behavior. 

“Cheesecake.  Drizzled with caramel.”  Allegra puckered her lips around her straw, innocently sipping the strawberry drink and trying to get flashing images of Richie drizzled with caramel out of her head.

“Mmmm.  Cheesecake rocks!  I’m more of a traditionalist though – plain ole cheesecake for me.  Once in a while I like fresh fruit on top.”

The vision of him nibbling blueberries and strawberries from atop her naked body had Allegra crossing her legs to ease the sudden pulsing between them.  They had to stop talking about food.

“Tell me something else,” she urged, fidgeting in the small booth.  “Something nobody else knows.”

His handsome smile slipped a notch, eyes darting to a point beyond her left shoulder.  Turning her head, she saw the waiter pouring wine at a table across the room. 

“Richie?”

A hollow laugh bounced between them and he studied the half empty glass of Diet Coke sitting at his hand.  “I still crave alcohol every day,” he admitted softly, not looking at her.  “When things get complicated, my first thought is that a couple of drinks will make them less complicated.”

                                                                                    

Allegra’s stomach clenched and she instinctively reached to curl her fingers over his hand.  “But then you have a second thought that tells that first thought to go to hell.”  Squeezing, she urged him to meet her eyes.  “You’re fighting and you’re winning.  I can’t even imagine how hard it must be, but you’re doing it.”

“Most days.”

Something about the tone of his voice or the tinge of regret in his eyes had her asking, “When’s the last time you had a drink?”  She, personally, had never seen him drink anything but Diet Coke, coffee or water.  That meant it should be a distant memory at best – months and months ago.

“The night you were raped.” 

Guilt threatened to swallow her in one consuming gulp.  For the hundredth time she cursed her own stubbornness in not listening to him that night.  That one arrogant decision had changed their lives in so many ways – and now she found out that the fallout reached further than she’d known.

“Oh, Richie…”  His cheek was smooth under her hand as she tenderly cupped the hard-angled jaw.  “I’m so sorry.”

“No apologies,” he ordered, lips brushing against her palm before moving to intertwine their fingers on the dark linen tablecloth.  “That was a lifetime ago.  Your turn again.”

“But-“

“Your turn.”

She frowned unhappily.  Her mind wouldn’t form any thoughts beyond trying to conjure the feeling of helplessness that would make him reach for the comfort of alcohol.  Allegra had been so busy leaning on him that she hadn’t noticed that he needed to lean just as badly.

That mistake wouldn’t happen again, she vowed.

“Sunshine… let it go.  Tell me something no one else knows about you.”

With a deep breath, she deliberately concentrated on the question.  “Something no one else knows...”

It was tempting to tell him about something silly, like her teenage crush on Scott Baio, if for no other reason than to lighten the mood.  But she couldn’t make herself do it after he’d shared such a personal thing with her – something that was still significant in his life.  Allegra could give him no less in return.

“I’m afraid I’ll never get my faith back.”

His brows knit together, lips pursing thoughtfully.  “Your spiritual faith?”

“Yes.  It’s been six months and instead of it working its way back into my heart, it seems like there’s always something happening to push it further away.”

“Like your father the Bishop.”

“That and the rape among other things.  No matter how many times I try, I know my prayers aren’t going any further than the top of my head.   I don’t know how I’m supposed to believe again.”

The waiter arrived with their food at that moment, depositing a steaming plate of clam linguini in front of Richie while Allegra’s side of the table was topped with a huge serving of cannelloni.  It all looked decadently delicious.  Too bad she didn’t think she’d be able to eat a bite.

“I can tell you.”  Richie gave his dinner no more than a cursory glance, intent on what she’d just confided in him.

Blue eyes flew up from the swirls of marinara and alfredo sauces before her.  “Really?”

He nodded his head solemnly.  “But you’re not going to like it.”

“Ooo-kay.”  Did it really matter if she liked it?  Turning away the means to recover her inner peace would be senseless.  “Tell me anyway.”

Richie reached across the table, across the drinks, across the basket of bread and their food to stroke her cheek with his thumb.  Gentle eyes engaged her, drawing her in and making her trust in what he was about to reveal.

“Sunshine, faith isn’t something that comes and goes.  It’s a conscious decision, sorta like love.  Things happen to make you question that decision sometimes, but it’s always your decision.  All you have to is decide you’re going to believe.”

Instinctively, Allegra gravitated to the one tidbit of his insight that didn’t hold her accountable for the state of her beliefs. 

“What do you mean, like love?”

The resigned shake of his head clearly relayed his disappointment, but he didn’t try to browbeat her into acquiescence.    He simply leaned back in his chair and sighed before explaining his words.

“I heard somebody say once that love isn’t just a feeling.  Hormones, pheromones and circumstances are seventy-five percent responsible for those warm, fuzzy feelings that we associate with love, and they play a big part in determining how intensely we love.  The fallacy is that when those warm, fuzzy feelings are gone, so is the love.”

“Well, yeah.  People fall out of love all the time.  There has to be a reason why.”

“People fall out of love because they’re lazy or they want something else.  When people get married, they’re promising – choosing – to love one another for the rest of their lives.  It’s a commitment, not a rush of adrenaline.”

That shed a little more light on his hesitance to rush down the aisle, but what did it say about his first marriage?

The question must’ve been clearly written on her face, because he laughed reproachfully.  “I know what you’re thinking.”

They’d never discussed why he and Heather split up.  Originally, Allegra wasn’t sure she’d wanted to know, but after his philosophical views on love, she was suddenly very curious.

“What happened?”

He lifted his hands in a shrug, eyes shuttering as he gave her the Cliff Notes version.  “We were fighting because I was gone so much.  She was unhappy and insecure, throwing around the ‘D’ word, but I thought we would work it out, just like we always had.   That’s what I get for thinking,” he laughed grimly.  “So there I was in the middle of a tour, doing one more boring pre-show interview, and this reporter says ‘Your wife just filed for divorce.  What do you have to say about that?’  Like an idiot I denied it all, thinking it was sensationalism drummed up by the media.  Turns out the guy was telling the truth.”

Richie picked up his glass, taking a deep swallow of the now watered-down soda.  Replacing the glass, he moved to toy with the fork buried in the linguini he’d taken exactly three bites of.

“Heather needed something else that I evidently wasn’t giving her, so she decided she didn’t love me anymore.  That was a decision she made all on her own.”

“And what did you decide?”

“That my love was wasted on someone who had no more respect for me than that.  Of course that came after I got drunk off my ass, woke up with the mother of all hangovers, and went back to work.”  He tried to make light of it, but his laughter fell flat. 

The enormity of it all tumbled down over Allegra like a ton of bricks, and she finally understood how lucky she was to be sitting here.  She’d shown him no more respect than Heather had by shutting him out and running away.  Yet, with very little ado, Richie put another band-aid on his heart and reached out to give her another chance.

“I’m sorry – for everything.” 

For Heather, for me, for everybody who’s trampled on your heart.  How do you still care so much for people? 

“Don’t be.  Allegra, I choose to have faith in people – and God.  It’s how I pick myself up and go on.  It makes me who I am.”  He reached out for her hand, and miraculously, his eyes weren’t full of hurt or betrayal.  They were full of encouragement and love.  “It’s your choice, baby.”