The Complete Groupie Trilogy (32 page)

Vanni and Kat became an “official” couple, though scuttlebutt had it that this was more Kat’s idea than Vanni’s. I had kept in constant communication with Alana about Talia and my concerns about her possessiveness, and we three sort of agreed that this new label and new band image gave Vanni the opportunity to reorganize
his relationship with his fans.

Kat was more invested in this change than anyone else, and I heard through Alana she had carefully interjected herself into the entire show, where he would focus his attention on her rather than sing directly to any fans. That she was now his girlfriend on record would hopefully keep fans from getting too close and too personal, though from what I could tell from the emails and the forum posts they really didn’t care much who was on his arm.

They didn’t even qualify Kat as “competition” because they didn’t find her to be a good match for their Giovanni.

She was too alternative, so therefore “ugly.” She was a pole dancer, so therefore a “slut.” They found various reasons to trash her until Alana or I would deal with those posts and delete them, sometimes even banning the users themselves.

So far Talia had not crossed any significant lines. It was as though she knew just how far she could push, which somehow made her more of a threat.

But without her behaving in a manner that we could show to Vanni was troublesome, he pretty much turned a blind eye to what was going on.

It got to the point I preferred to talk to Kat than to Vanni. Alana had become the peacekeeper between us, even though she had been honest about Kat’s opinion of me in the beginning – which was unflattering to say the least.

She found me “obsessed” with Vanni, and clearly had a problem with my size. I chalked it up to her being so small that she was threatened by a larger girl, but the initial comments had been catty and unkind as she lumped me in with the rest of the “desp
erate cows” who wanted her man.

Alana tried her best to play devil’s advocate, and suggested that Vanni might have not been completely forthright with her about our relationship – and as such she would have no reason to think I wasn’t like another fan. Since his fans had fluctuated wildly between being so nasty to her and trying to cozy up to her to get to Vanni, she didn’t have much use for any of us.

But once she saw that I was not after her man, and in fact would not speak to him hardly at all, she was able to allow me into her “inner circle.” That Alana trusted me was a big plus in my favor. So the three of us kept a close eye on troublesome groupies, while Vanni was allowed to remain blissfully clueless so he could write his music and record his songs.

After I had literally turned my back on Vanni in June, he finally gave me the distance I needed to help heal. It was hard at first, especially when he went full steam ahead with Kat after maintaining for so long his life was not equipped for a long-term relationship. But Graham filled the void with thoughtful gestures like flowers for no reason, calls that lasted into the night, emails and texts just to let me know he was thinking about me.

For the first time in my life I was actually being courted by a man, and it did a lot to heal my wounded ego after the whole Vanni debacle.

By the time I boarded the plane for Los Angeles I had a full dance card prepared to keep me occupied when I wasn’t doing anything for the band. I only hoped that it was enough to steel my spine against those lethal brown eyes that rendered me powerles
s to Vanni’s capricious charms.

Fortunately most of my responsibilities now were fan-related rather than band-related. I would interview them, of course, but I could do that as a group. I really didn’t have to spend any time at all with Vanni. I could skip performances, and at this point I’d rather prefer to, and simply hang out with Alana as she prepped for the fan
s or interceded with the media.

This was my job now, and Graham had made it clear I could have it as a real job if I ever dec
ided to relocate to California.

So far I had managed to hold off on committing to anything so concrete. I needed to know that my heart was truly over Vanni before I got that close to the fire again. I hadn’t said that in so many words to Graham, but I got the feeling he could sense that was the reason I hedged any suggestion to move west.

Our flirting had turned up in recent weeks, and he even offered that I could stay in his house, in his guest room, rather than stay at a hotel. “You’d be doing me the favor,” he had said. He claimed his house was so big and empty that it was depressing to stay there alone. Sometimes he’d just like to hear another voice.

“No pressure,” he added.

That had become our go-to phrase. We were both willing to see where this thing between us was going, but we didn’t want to rush into anything. He confided that his two previous marriages were spontaneous decisions based on heat that faded as fast as they ignited. He thought he’d rather like experimenting with the slow burn instead.

I knew by this point I could trust him, and I knew he’d never push me farther than I was willing to go. So I agreed to stay at his house and even help him host one of his holiday parties for his talent. If I ever did move to L.A. these would be the kinds of things I’d do as part of his PR team, so it made sense to get some experience under my belt.

Hopefully it was all leading to a promising future on the west coast, something that – provided I could be sure I was over Vanni – was looking more and more like something I wanted to do.

Graham took the afternoon off to pick me up at the airport, and he swung me in his arms when he saw me. Only briefly I thought about the time I had picked Vanni up at the airport in Nashville, and couldn’t rush into his arms like I had wanted. In L.A., even with the significant notoriety that Graham enjoyed as an entertainment mogul, he was not ashamed to show the entire airport he was more than a little excited to see me.

This was punctuated by a deep kiss, something that he had told me before he couldn’t wait to do again after our brief but passionate embrace in June.

Though it didn’t engulf me with an uncontrollable passion, it did give me hope that I could enjoy this trip on a more romantic level than I had previously expected. I was still in a wait-and-see pattern, but things were definitely looking up.

Unlike my itineraries in New York, the L.A. schedule was a little more relaxed, especially since I was there for almost ten days. The fan event would take place that weekend, and then after that I would organize Graham’s holiday party. This gave us plenty of time to do what needed to be done, and I could finally meet my godson and spend some quality face-to-face time with my friends.

Eventually I would have to socialize with Vanni, especially since he was going to be at the fan event and Graham’s party, but in the meantime I could just
take my time and enjoy myself.

Just being in the mild California sunshine was enough to make me relax. By the time we reached Graham’s house I felt completely decompressed. I didn’t even think I’d need the massage he had promised for about two months that he’d give me.

Graham’s house was a multi-level sprawling mansion with a view of the ocean from floor to ceiling windows all along the sides facing the Pacific. The white interior was crisp, sparse and stark, which he confessed was a remnant of the last Mrs. Baxter. “It matched her personality,” he confided with a wink.

But he had filled the rooms with colorful flowers for my visit, and it smelled and looked lovely amidst the white art deco furniture. He showed me to my room, which had new, bright linens on the bed with a large box with a ribbon sitting right on top.

“Graham,” I admonished. “What did you do?”

He shrugged as he leaned on the doorframe, where he watched me unwrap his gift. “A li
ttle welcoming gift,” he said.

I opened the box and found a fiery orange peignoir set made of satin. It was much too beautiful to refuse, even though the implied intimacy of the gift did not go unnoticed. “Oh Graham,” was all I could say.

“I want you to feel at home here,” he said without ever moving from the door. “Look underneath.”

My brow furrowed as I dug under the tissue, only to find chaste flannel paja
mas underneath. I had to laugh.

“You choose,” he said. “No pressure.”

I returned to where he stood in the door way. “You’re too good to me,” I said as I reached up to kiss his cheek.

“There’s no such thing,” he whispered, as he enveloped me with his eyes. He reached out with one hand and traced my cheek. I knew if I had wanted to I could walk right into his arms right there and consummate our attraction. But I think both of us knew that there were lingering questions that had to be answered before I could move on.

So wordlessly he took my hand in his and led me to the kitchen, where his staff had prepared our lunch.

We hadn’t talked much about Vanni in the last few months. He had never pressured me with questions and I had never offered the information. My feelings for this other man remained the elephant in the room. I knew we’d probably have to have that discussion, and soon, but neither of us seemed eager to introduce that dose of reali
ty into our very sweet fantasy.

Instead he gave me plenty of space to get freshened up before we went to see Alana and Iain and my tiny godson, George.

The minute I took him into my arms I understood immediately why Alana had subtly changed since his birth. She had unraveled a mystery so many of us had yet to figure out. It all had to do with holding your child in your arms, and seeing the best of you and the one you love in a brand new person.

Suddenly I couldn’t remember why I had been so reticent to have a baby. It seemed like the most normal thing in the world. And everyone said I was a natural, and that George seemed to take to me unlike most people.

I was likewise smitten with him. Truth was I didn’t want to put him down. But by dinnertime it was time for his nap and Graham and I decided we should go. We left the new family in their safe little cocoon that existed so far beyond the fishbowl I knew that they could find some balance of normalcy that Vanni never could.

We were quiet as Graham drove us to the five-star restaurant where we had reservations. Finally I glanced over to his darkened silhouette in the car. “Why don’t you have kids, Graham?”

I already knew that he was in his late 40s, and though his marriages ended they lasted at least eight years a piece. It had to have been a conscious choice not to have kids or they simply couldn’t.

I knew now that if I were in a serious relationship it would have to be with someone who ultimately wanted children.

He just shrugged. “Never seemed the right time,” he said. “Both my wives had careers, and they wanted to achieve certain things in their lives before they got tied down to motherhood.”

“Seems like a sad way to look at it,” I said. Alana didn’t seem b
urdened by her new role as mom.

“I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” he mused. “I’m glad, because divorce is hard on kids. This way it was a cleaner break.”

I thought back to my pregnancy scare with Vanni. If I had been pregnant, would he have gone on to be with Kat? Would we still have broken up? What would that have meant for his child, despite his protests he would never abandon any child the way he himself was abandoned?

“Some people never get over it,” I agreed. He glanced at me, possibly suspecting who
I referred to, but kept silent.

He tried to keep the conversation lighter as we took our table at the restaurant. He sat close to me in the booth and toasted me with a glass of wine. “To the godmother,” he said. “You were quite the natural. Any child would be lucky to have you for a mom.”

Since he opened the conversation back up, I went for it. “Do you want kids, Graham?”

He gave me a warm smile. “Would depend on the relationship,” he said as his eyes traced my face thoughtfully. “I think it needs to be a conscious choice on the parts of both parents.”

I smiled and leaned toward him. “Agreed.”

I didn’t suspect he’d be asking me to ditch condoms anytime too soon, and for that I instantly respected him.

He leaned down to kiss me softly, and I knew that it was dangerous playing with fire this way. But Vanni was finally starting to fade, and I knew that my heart was mending. Eventually I’d have to move on.

It was nice to have a sweet, romantic, successful gentleman as an option.

Especially when he knew how to kiss.

He heaved a blissful sigh as he lifted away. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, Andy,” he said softly. “When you kiss me I actually start thinking about the future. I haven’t done that for a long, long time.”

I knew how heartbroken he had been over the last divorce. Unlike the first one marriage, when he had grown restless, his last wife had been the one to stray. He told me he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to trust again like he had before she had broken his heart. It was for that reason alone I knew I had to take it slow with Graham. I would never want to take his fragile trust and toss it under a bus driven by a self-serving rock star with an inflated ego and sense of entitlement when it came to women.

I knew that if Vanni had ever decided to ditch Kat and come back to me, I’d still be tempted to go. I had never given my heart away before him, and I knew he had walked away with a substantial piece. I’d probably always go where it called.