Authors: Jennifer Rose
Why my thoughts kept drifting to Gage, had me baffled. The closeness that I sensed was there, must have been a figment of my imagination. He obviously found other things to occupy his time.
Once up and moving I ordered breakfast, jumped in the shower and got dressed. By the time I had done all this I was feeling half way decent, like I was only suffering from a mild hangover, no nausea but a pounding headache. I took an Advil and finished my coffee while I waited for John.
***
The Vibe hotel’s conference room had been set up with tables all around the perimeter for various authors, each sporting banners. We located one with John’s name and latest book cover and a few chairs where we would sit. A red velvet rope had been set up to promote an orderly direction for autographs and photo shots. We piled books on the table and a row of boxes with books and swag bags behind him, keeping them within reach. I volunteered to hand him what he needed, being his assistant for the day. And Jack, well Jack perused the crowds of woman, chatting them up and spent his time schmoozing.
Jack was a real playboy, in the Hugh Hefner kinda way. All he lacked was the smoking jacket and a bunny on each arm. He was smooth and debonair, definitely cultured, a man of the world that oozed with charm. I could see why women would be attracted to his type, so not mine, but his well-groomed I-got-money-pouring-out-my-ass elegance had all the bimbos sniffing around.
Jack looked much like John but his character seemed the exact opposite. John was pretty in a masculine way, with beautiful caring eyes, a smoking hot smile and a bright, delightful, funny personality. John didn’t seem to worry about attracting a woman’s attention, which seemed to make them draw closer to him without effort. He noticed them, but he didn’t.
After handshakes and introductions, John talked to his fans about his latest book and answered questions. He had his adoring fans, which were over flowing from the room into the hallway, in stitches. It was amazing to watch him work the crowd and as they lined up like a herd of cattle, I saw exactly what he meant when he called them crazed.
One woman in particular caught my interest, asking John to sign her forearm because she was leaving the event and going to a tattoo parlor down the road to have it permanently inked into her skin. Now that was a huge fan, she outdid me by a landslide and I had to shake my head and wonder how far I’d go with that kind of love. John, never batted an eye.
Requests for private inscriptions, those boob autographs and too many women to count asking to have his baby, boggled my mind. And the paper gift bag located under the table at John’s foot, filled up quickly with cardkeys, slips of folded paper and business cards, even a pair of silky panties.
Four hours past in record time and John maintained a smile through it all. When the doors finally closed we peered around at nothing but empty boxes and the notorious gift bag, John slumped back in his chair and let out an exaggerated sigh.
Jack of course was nowhere to be seen, leaving us to clean up. Once done we decided to go have something to eat before heading back to the ship, not worrying whether Jack got back or not.
“He’ll be fine on his own,” John stated, like it was an everyday thing.
“What do you want me to do with this?” I held up the gift bag and John laughed.
“Chuck it with the boxes.”
“Really, you don’t want it?” I was dumbfounded that he would throw away gifts from his fans; I thought he was better than that. He spoke of them so highly then he’d throw their love and admiration in the trash. He saw my annoyance and smiled with a sigh.
“Nooo, that’s scary stuff. Let it be gone!” he laughed with a wave of his hand, “It’s just keys to rooms, phone numbers, dirty notes, that kinda thing. I don’t want them.”
“You got it,” I said, as it sunk in, it really was what would be considered trash and I placed it on the stack of broken down boxes and we left.
We enjoyed a quick bite in the hotel’s restaurant, not going unnoticed by more fans unfortunately, but we did get to talk more about ideas for his next book and then went back to the ship. We went our separate ways once on board and I enjoyed the silence of my stateroom, put my feet up and read a book with a large glass of wine and vegged out until bed time.
It had been a crazy day, with crazy fans and I had had enough crazy to last me a life time.
***
Unfortunately I spent the day watching for Tandy’s return after losing them when the taxi drove off from the pier. Unable to get a straight answer from anyone as to their destination, the only thing was the meatball’s name, John Martin.
It hadn’t taken me long to find this character with a little help from Google search, it turned out he was an author. His books looked shady, they turned out to be romance,
to each his own
, I thought.
Obviously those were the books gifted to Tandy. What was his angle? Was he plying her with kinky gifts and his evident wealth? That wouldn’t interest her, she was rich, didn’t need a man to keep her. The guy was trying to get his dick wet. It wasn’t bad enough I was watching her, now I’d have to watch this idiot and make sure he kept his dick in his pants.
And the other guy that accompanied them, beyond any doubt, a brother. The resemblance was uncanny. What were they doing in Darwin? A second car filled with boxes had followed, after the John character gave the driver a note, clearly the address of their destination.
It perturbed me that I managed to let them slip away. If anything happened to her I’d…I couldn’t even put the words together in my head. I was responsible for her, yes, but it was much deeper than that. She stirred up feelings that had long sat locked away while I rotted in a prison cell. Feelings I wasn’t sure I could handle or wanted to. If truth be told I wasn’t sure of myself anymore not sure if a woman, a decent woman like Tandy, could look past my priors.
The only thing in the future I knew for sure was that going back to prison wasn’t part of it and I had a very important job to do, a job that I couldn’t fail.
The click of the lock engaging next door had me on my feet. I took a glass from the counter and placed it against the bedroom wall and listened to the muffled sounds of movement from her bedroom and the sound of water running.
Tandy was definitely in and for this I was exultant. Then a thought came to mind, was she alone? With breath held, I listened for voices.
Nothing, this was good or was it? Shit! On tip toe, like she was going to hear me running over the carpet to the door, I slid the glass door open and walked cautiously out onto the balcony and stood waiting in case she was there. Carefully leaning forward around the divider, I peered at the open door. There was the faintest sound of her humming and when the breeze so conveniently drew the sheer panel out into the night, I was able to catch a glance of her sprawled across the sofa, reading.
Day 47
It was such a perfect day. Not extremely hot, even though it was well over eighty, the breeze off of the water kept it tamed to a comfortable level. The sun had the entire sky to itself not a cloud in sight, the rays beat down on my skin like a million finger tips caressing it and as I walked along the Riviera deck I found it surprisingly quiet. Though the pool area was busy, as usual, the tables off to the side looked appealing, a perfect spot to sit and do my crossword puzzles and get some sun.
I set out my puzzle book and pencil, put my Dakine bag and towel on the seat beside me and then walked over to the bar to seek out a much needed beverage. On the way back to my seat with drink in one hand and a handful of pretzels in the other, I couldn’t help but notice a familiar face seated with three, much older ladies. All three were undoubtedly blond from a bottle, in bathing suits with sarongs and large floppy brimmed sunhats. Kinda like the golden girls, minus Ma.
Gage was squirming in his seat. The one rather robust woman, I’ll call Blanch, clearly had her hand planted firmly on his thigh giggling, while the other two leaned in close. One fiddled with his curls, we’ll call her Dorothy, the last with a death grip on his hand, by process of elimination being Rose. They tugged and yanked as if he was a meal for one on a deserted island and the three were in battle to see who ate and who would starve. I had to laugh.
“Good morning, Gage, ladies. Isn’t it a beautiful day?” I said, as I continued on past to my table.
“Good morning!” Gage practically shouted. I pursed my lips together to stop from laughing out loud. I got to my table and sat opening my crossword and biting the end of my pencil between my teeth pretending not to see Gage watching me.
“Ladies, it’s been a slice but I should join my friend.” I heard him say as he stood. A resounding moan in stereo echoed and I looked up to see him pulling himself from the clutches of two of the ladies. He gave each a peck on the back of their hands and nodded his goodbye.
When he got to my table I continued my crossword quest, keeping my sights set on the words, trying not to burst. “Juggling three women so early in the morning, Romeo?”
“Very funny Miss Manning, do you mind if I sit with you?” I looked up and pretended to think. “Aw come on, give a guy a break,” he said.
“I guess you better before they drag you back to their table, which
would
be fun to watch. Sit already.”
“Thanks.” Gage sat and placed his magazine face down on the table, this careful magazine placement drew my curiosity.
“What you reading?”
“A magazine,” he said, and moved it farther across the table.
“Let me guess?” The back cover gave nothing away with an ad for the new i-phone 5, pretty basic advertising. “Hot Rod, QC, Men’s Health, a muscle magazine?”
“Do I look that superficial? Got the whole caveman thing happening do I?” he said in a comical yet somehow biting way.
“Did I offend? I’m sorry,” I said sarcastically and he shook his head with a smile turning it over to reveal the cover.
“Fortune, really?”
I was rather impressed. My father read Fortune; he had money, investments and a huge portfolio. Gage didn’t look like the investment type, what with that surfer boy hair and bad-ass personality. I sat and stared, trying to figure this guy out, he was a mystery man; I liked a good mystery. Given enough time I could figure him out.
“Crossword puzzles really?” he countered, leaning in with a laugh, “just kidding, sweetheart. I like crosswords, want some help?”
“I don’t need any help but if you want we can do one together,” I suggested, and he scooted his chair closer until our shoulders collided and I could smell a hint of coconut and soap. I was lost for a moment and didn’t hear what he said. His eyes were pretty blue today like the water.
He took the pencil from my hand and started to fill in the squares, “There you go. To evade would be to dodge that’s one across. Which would make one down, specks would be dabs.”
I came back from my daydreaming feeling a little heated and so glad he hadn’t noticed, if he did he wasn’t saying.
“That was an easy one let’s find you something more challenging, this one. Seven down, grammatical unit eight letters.” I pointed and leaned into his side, just an excuse to get a bit close filling any gap between us.
“Sentence.” he said, without hesitation.
“Okay. Stump six letters.” I raised the challenge and scowled.
“Stymie, you gotta come up with harder ones than these, this is kindergarten level,” He challenged, boldly and it was on. I scanned to the hard puzzles near the back of the book.
“Incantations six letters.”
“Spells, like you put me under,” he said, draping an arm over the back of my chair, leaning closer.
Smooth talking son-of-a-bitch
, I thought.
“Masher's comeuppance, maybe, four letters.” I set the challenge; surely he’d have to think.
“Slap,” he said instantaneously.
Smart and good looking too
I thought. I heard him sniff in at the side of my ear. Obviously smelling my perfume, it was nice how he was enjoying me and my scent.
“Which you may get if you keep sniffing at me,” I joked. He chuckled and touched his nose to my neck keeping the distance between us tight. “One more let me see here, intense, as competition, six letters.”
“Fierce, like you” he smiled that dimpled smile, and I tried to appear not so amused pushing his face away.
I raised my brows and lowered my chin “Excuse me?”
Gage laughed, “No offence, sweetheart, I’m just saying you give off a ferocious ambiance.”
“What exactly are you trying to say, that I’m a bitch?”
“No,” He laughed harder, “just saying I see intensity, maybe a little aggression and a whole lot of passion all rolled up into a raging ball of fire. It’s hidden deep in your soul, I can see it.”
“You’re an ass,” I said, and scanned the pages of my puzzled book.
“Yep I am, and this ass is going to the bar to get us a drink what would you like?” He stood and stared at my empty glass and pile of untouched pretzels.
“Lemonade thanks.”
“Will that be alcoholic or virgin?” he asked, and I scowled wondering if he was fucking with me.
“Make it hard, thanks.” I said, biting into a pretzel.
The corners of Gage’s eyes wrinkled up and he walked away with a huge smile. Then I realized what I said, he really was an ass, a typical male ass. And what a nice ass he had, I mused, as I watched him walk to the bar, as did his golden girl companions and we all had glowing smiles spread across our faces.
He came back with a small tray of drinks. He placed it on the table where the ladies sat, before making his way back to me with my drink and his own.
“That was sweet of you.” I said taking a sip of my heavily spiked lemonade.
“Yeah well, never let it be said that I don’t take care of my women.” He laughed and held his glass in the air. I tapped mine to his with a clink and narrowed my eyes.
“Who are you, really?” I asked. He had the gorgeous surfer bad-ass looks on the outside but something altogether different hidden on the inside. He could be funny, sexy and hot, bad-ass and tough too, but was also the type to remove his jacket and cover it over a puddle for a lady to cross. He’d probably go to great lengths to please that special someone and probably couldn’t resist a puppy.