The Way You Make Me Feel (20 page)

 

In her dressing room, Damien gave Stevie a lingering kiss, oblivious of the others around them. “Well, we did it, baby,” he told her. “Filled their very hearts with joy.”

“And what about ours?”

“Oh, we had it all the time. What comes next? That black sequin number you had on had me howling at the moon.”

“I won't say what comes next. Wait and see.”

“I'm gonna sit out in the audience a while, listen to their drift.”

The dresser set about readying Stevie for the last part of the show, then stood back and surveyed her. “You are drop-dead gorgeous,” the dresser said. “And you both were drop-dead gorgeous in the black sequins.”

“Thank you. We did right well for ourselves, didn't we?”

“You two went up to the sky. I'll be in line to buy my copy of ‘The Way You Make Me Feel.' And I've just about worn out ‘I Don't Need You Anymore.'”

Stevie touched the woman's shoulder. “I have a copy of ‘Way' for you and I'll see that you get a fresh CD of ‘I Don't Need You Anymore.'”

The woman thanked her profusely and patted her back. “Now you go out there and slay 'em the way only you can do.”

“Yeah,” Damien said as he held her tight. “You do that.” He held her away from him and his eyes danced over her body. He whistled long and low.

Stevie laughed merrily. “Down, boy! Later for you.”

“I warn you, waiting makes me hungry. I checked it out. The hotel bed's got a luxurious pillowtop mattress just waiting for us.”

“I'd rather have a water bed.”

“Any bed with you in it is my choice.”

 

This time when Stevie walked onstage, the emcee made the prolonged howling sound Damien had made a bit earlier. “And here she is again, ladies and gentlemen, complete with a won't-wait miniskirt, Ms. Knock-'em-Dead Stevie Simms!”

And again the audience erupted into whistles and cheers as they beheld Stevie in a coral low-cut and miniskirted, layered silk dress. Gold gleamed at her throat and on her earlobes and her Manolo shoes were gold and fabulous. Already tall, with the heels, she was majestic in her stance.

She sang several old numbers. Then the band played Marvin Gaye tunes and a few couples got up and danced in the aisles until security guards asked them to please be seated. A smiling Stevie flirted with them.

“Tell you what I'm gonna do,” she said in a highly amplified stage whisper. “I'm gonna sing the two songs again that caught your fancy tonight—‘The Way You Make Me Feel,' and…”

A murmur of approval swept the audience. When it died a little, she announced the second song, “I Don't Need You Anymore.” There was a delighted roar and much clapping.

Stevie lifted her arms heavenward. “If you like what you're getting, please tell me loud and clear.”

She couldn't have asked for better. They loved her and were willing to show her in any way they could.

This time Stevie did “The Way You Make Me Feel” alone, giving it everything she had again. Her moans of ecstasy were real. Her sinuous, catlike movements were real and now the love she felt in her heart was real. Honi Holmes could never stop her joy. Let her insinuate herself back into Damien's good graces. She, Stevie, had the man, and that confidence carried in her voice.

“Looking good, Mama,” a loud voice yelled, and the audience agreed.

“If I had you in my bed, I'd be a happy man,” a youth hollered and his girlfriend smacked him playfully before he hugged her.

She was good for her audience and they were good for her, Stevie reflected. She knew very well that she had never performed better, and she finished on a high note. There would be no autographs tonight, so with the last note she would be through. But they didn't want to let her go. It took Damien to come out and plead.

“The lady's got her throat to consider. Now you don't want her hoarse, do you?”

“No! No!”

“Then let her go tonight so there'll be other thrilling tomorrows. A single of ‘The Way You Make Me Feel' is out now. You've all got copies of ‘I Don't Need You Anymore.' And late this fall Stevie has a new album out with songs you'll love. That album is entitled,
The Way You Make Me Feel
. Are you with me?”

Cries of assent went up all around as Stevie threw kisses again and again, thinking she wasn't one bit tired; she was exhilarated.

Damien caught Stevie in the hall just outside her dressing room and kissed her. Passion lit their bodies and the thrill of success ran in their veins. “If you'll hold still, I'll tell you how much I love you,” Stevie whispered.

“I'm not sure I can. I've got ants in my pants and the seven-year itch. Baby, if I get any hotter, I'm gonna explode. Let's hurry and get out of here.”

But that wasn't to be. Damien groaned to find two reporters in the dressing room and they made Stevie their story of choice.

“You did it,” one young woman reporter cried enthusiastically. “You really slayed dragons tonight. How's it feel?”

“There are no words,” Stevie told her, grinning.

There was champagne, New England clam chowder with oyster crackers, filet mignon steak sandwiches on soft French bread, salads. The strawberry and cherry tarts, ice cream and a big chocolate cake all went fast. Stevie thought she'd never been so hungry. But after she'd finished eating, she wanted to be in Damien's arms, wanted him in her arms.

Finally, the dressing room was nearly empty and Honi and Whip came in.

“Trouble, man,” Whip said. “I'm gonna have to head back home tonight—now.”

“Why?” Damien growled.

“My mom's been sent to the hospital with appendicitis and there's something wrong.”

“We'll drive him back, of course,” Honi said.

“I'm really sorry,” Damien told Whip. “If you need anything, I'll be in touch tomorrow.”

Whip shook his head. “No man, that's not good enough. I need you to go back with me. Please. You ease my mind like nobody else can. Sorry to be such a baby, but you're the father I never had. That's why I came to record with you.”

“Whip, I…” Damien began as the youth began to shake. He really looked in a bad way and everybody knew his mother was his heart and soul.

It took every bit of compassion Stevie owned, but she said, “Let's go back with him, love. I know what this feels like.”

Damien looked at Stevie. “You can't go back tonight. You've had a rough two days and we've got to take care of your body. You stay. Let Lester take the room next to ours and fly home tomorrow early.”

Stevie nodded. “Let's go upstairs and I'll put your things together.” She leaned close and whispered to him, “Be kind. I love you so much.”

Damien groaned inside. He had a helluva round of really good loving all mapped out and the fallout was going to last for days. So much for the really good loving tonight. But he perked up immediately thinking that there was always tomorrow.

S
tevie hadn't slept a half hour when she came awake. She sat up abruptly, feeling queasy. Too much of that too-rich food, she thought grumpily. Well, she'd sleep late. But the queasiness didn't go away and she padded to the bathroom to find an antacid. She barely got into the bathroom when she gave up her food as she kneeled over the toilet bowl.

A pleased expression crossed her face. Pregnant women got queasy, didn't they? She remembered all too well Jessi's pregnancies. She got up, rinsed her face and went back into the bedroom to find the pregnancy test kit she had on hand in anticipation of this very moment.

Back in the bathroom she did the test and was overcome with joy when it registered
positive!
She hugged herself and happy tears came to her eyes. Of course she'd need a blood test to confirm and she couldn't wait to get home to have it.

Back in bed, she tossed and turned and sleep seemed as far away as the moon. She hugged her pillow, imagining Damien. She reached for the phone to call him, but then she had an idea. She knew her body better than he did and she needed
him,
not sleep. She got up and knocked on Lester's door, roused him, told him her news and he hugged her.

“Gotta go to him tonight, huh?” he grinned. Lester had been with her since the beginning, and he was as close to Damien as he was to her. She hurriedly packed her bags and they checked out and were on the road in a short while.

“He'll be so surprised,” she said. “I hope Whip didn't keep him at the hospital with him all night.”

Lester laughed. “Lady, prepare to get your face kissed off. He's going to be that glad to get your news. Damien loves kids.”

She leaned back deeper into the leather cushions as the big car ate up the miles that brought her closer to him. Honi wanted Damien back. She never missed a chance to let him—and Stevie—know that. What did Damien really want? Did he ever feel sorry he'd married her? It had been such a short while.

Still she was excited as the car sped along.
Soon, soon,
she thought with excitement that almost undid her.

At their house, Lester told her he'd help her out, then wait until she got inside.

“Spend a while sleeping. We've certainly got plenty of room,” Stevie urged him.

“Thanks, but I called a cousin when I knew I'd be driving you over and we've got a lot to talk about.”

 

Damien groaned as he came to on the king-sized bed. The time since they'd left Atlanta came back to him. He didn't dare open his eyes his head hurt so bad, so he just let the images filter through. They'd reached Nashville in record time. Whip had made a quick call to the hospital and was told it was a false alarm. His mom was fine. To celebrate Whip asked if they could all have a drink and Damien had agreed.

Damien didn't think he'd had that many drinks and he held his liquor well, but something had happened and Whip and Honi had had to take him home. He remembered that much. He wasn't going to tell Stevie about this because he couldn't expect her to understand.

Damien flung out his hand and touched a body. Stevie was in Atlanta because he'd insisted she needed sleep. Groaning inside at who he knew this must be, he opened his eyes.

“What the hell?” he growled at Honi. “How did you come to be here?”

Honi had stripped down to her slip and she stretched voluptuously and smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Hello to you, too, love. You had too much to drink and Whip and I brought you home. Then he took a taxi home and I stayed to nurse you. How do you feel now, sweetie?”

He knew if he hadn't felt like crud she'd have looked delectable, but that was all in the past. He didn't want her. Or did he?

Damien frowned. “Honi, you didn't dope my drink?”

Honi looked outraged. “Take a good, long look at me, Damien. Do you think I need to dope men for them to desire me? No, you were knocking them back like there was no tomorrow.”

Honi grinned because she had plans. While Damien showered this morning she was going to leave her golden sheer panties under the pillow on Stevie's side and her bra just under the bed, all for Stevie to find.

Damien could have wept with frustration. “I'm calling you a cab and you're getting out of here.”

Honi grinned in mock consternation. “So that's the thanks I get for saving your ornery hide? We could have had a great time like old times, but you were too drunk. You never used to be too drunk to want my body.”

“Lord, you didn't…”

“Well, I tried, but you couldn't perform. Your great body just got to me when I undressed you and got you into your pajamas—after I'd tried to arouse you, that is. You're losing it, love. You used to be among the best and longest-lasting.” She placed her hand on his flaccid penis. “Poor little thing.”

“Don't talk like that. I'm married now.”

“You'll never love anyone the way you love me.”

“Guess again.”

“Where're you going?”

Damien had staggered up and went toward the bathroom.

“Wait. I'll help you. You're in no condition to travel.”

But before she could reach him, Damien hit the bathroom door with a thud, got it open, got inside and locked the door. Only then did he glance at his watch. Five o'clock. He sloshed water over his face and head. He should have called Stevie as soon as he got in. She couldn't feel too good about him leaving her behind even if it was for her sake. He'd go in the kitchenette and make a big pot of coffee. That should clear his head. He couldn't call Stevie with a muddled mind.

Stevie's face rose before him. She was so sweet. He wished he could love her the way he'd once loved Honi, but that was no longer possible and she said she understood. Trouble was since he'd been married Stevie Honi had flung herself at him with wild abandon and he'd found himself enjoying it. Was he any better than Jake McGowan?

Damien took a cold shower and it refreshed him nearly completely. With an almost clear head, he glanced down at his big shaft, held it and smiled. “So you wouldn't perform, eh?” he told it. “Old buddy, I'm gonna love you forever for the favor you did me. I guess you know who you want.”

His penis seemed to be as proud as he was. He blotted himself dry, got back into his pajamas and went back into the bedroom. He was a different man, fully in charge of himself.

“Honi, get your clothes on
now,
” he ordered, and a startled Honi moved to comply. He got on the phone and called a taxi.

“Oh, honey,” she whined. “Why not make the best of a good situation? We're sophisticated people. We take life as we find it. If you were my husband, I'd understand.”

“Move it, Honi,” he barked. “And I mean now!”

“Well, if you're gonna be like that…”

In the quiet, they both heard a car pull into the driveway. Damien frowned. Now who? Had Whip come back?

He looked outside and saw Lester help Stevie out of the car and the bottom fell out of his stomach. Biting his lip, he looked in panic at Honi. “You get some clothes on!” he barked.

“Why? This gets more interesting by the minute.”

He was undone and helpless. At least she wasn't naked. By the time the front door slammed and an excited Stevie was on the steps calling his name, his blood had turned to cold slush. In lightning seconds Stevie opened the door and stood there in shock at the tableaux before her. Honi had laid back on the bed, her glorious dark-blond hair spread out on the pillow, her countenance reflecting a woman who'd been made love to.

“Baby!” he choked out to Stevie. “I can explain.”

Shock waves rocked Stevie as she flung her body at him. She was all over him as she screamed, “You
bastard!
How could you?”

He held her furious body in to him as best he could, but she wanted to annihilate him, scratch his eyes out, do damage to the penis she loved so much that had betrayed her. She tried to pummel him with her small handbag. He finally got her hands behind her back and she kicked him. Fortunately she wore soft shoes and he didn't have to let go of her.

“I know you're mad and you've got every right to be, but nothing happened here. It's not what it seems.”

Honi grinned and lay on her back. “If you say so, love.
If
you say so.”

“Damn it, Honi,” he yelled. “I'll get you for this.”

“It looks to me,” Stevie said scathingly, “as if you've already gotten her.”

To Stevie it was a nightmare unlike any she'd ever weathered before. Her heart hurt so bad she couldn't stand it and her throat was choked with tears. Sharp pain sliced her belly. She had to get out of here.

She turned and fled the room with Damien calling, “Stevie, wait! Let me get something on and we'll talk!”

But she didn't want to talk with him. She only wanted to put a million miles between this cheating dog and herself. Damien quickly got into house shoes and pulled on a robe. He reached the top of the stairs as she went out the front door, slamming it behind her.

Outside, Stevie was a fleet runner and she had a head start on him. He saw her ahead of him, running against the traffic and he groaned as he ran, the slippers holding him back. At least she had on flats and wouldn't stumble.

As Stevie ran, it seemed to her it was the end of the world. She would have liked to run forever the air was so cool now, an aberrant night in the July heat. Her heart hurt unbearably and she felt lightheaded as she fought to stifle the vision of a nearly naked Honi lying on her, Stevie's, bed. Her own breath threatened to strangle her and she wanted to fight someone—anyone—with all the furious energy she felt. Fight? She laughed scornfully to herself. Try
kill.

She had been completely sympathetic with Damien's fear of love, but they both had sworn respect and integrity. That didn't permit falling into an ex-love's arms at the first opportunity. But running, she thought of her possible baby. Maybe it would be better if the blood test for pregnancy proved negative. Suddenly she was blinded by light.

Behind her she could hear Damien calling, “Stevie! Please wait!” And she thought bitterly,
Wait for what? More heartbreak?

Thank God he was gaining on her, he thought, his feet fueled by desperation. His hope immediately changed to fear when he saw the big car with the tinted windows coming at her on the road that held no other cars at the moment. Then he was there, but so was the car. He pushed Stevie out of the way as she screamed and rolled into a shallow ditch. His side took partial impact of the hit and he went down as the car raced away.

He fought to stay conscious and crawled to where Stevie lay in the ditch, moaning.

“Baby, just take it easy. I'm going to call an ambulance.” He thought about the fact that he had no cell phone with him. But luckily, headlights were on the road and he knew a moment of panic lest the same car was coming back, but the man slowed and then stopped and got out.

“We're hit, my wife and I,” Damien explained. “Please call an ambulance.”

They determined that Damien could stand up and the driver decided to take them to the hospital in his car after calling ahead. The driver got a big flashlight and shone it on Stevie and they saw with horror that she was bleeding profusely from gashes on her thigh and arm where she had fallen on a jagged broken bottle.

Working with the driver, Damien tore off his robe and his pajama top and with his teeth and with the driver's knife they fashioned a tourniquet for her arm. He applied what little he knew about first aid, then together they got Stevie into the back seat of the car and Damien got in with her.

 

After what seemed hours, Stevie lay on an emergency room bed. They had tended her wounds and stanched the flow of blood. A young emergency doctor tended to her, then talked with Damien.

“She's lost a lot of blood and I don't like her vital signs. She seems in shock.”

Damien could say nothing. He knew what had caused the shock. He and Honi and that damnable scene. But he wasn't guilty. Okay, Stevie didn't know that.

“The wounds are simple, but deep,” the doctor said. “I'm just worried about what seems to be her state of mind, as best I can tell with her out like this. She's hardly breathing.”

Back in, Damien caught Stevie's hand and said, “Please don't give up, baby. I love you. I love you so much.”

Hot tears rushed to his eyes then because he had finally realized the truth. He had loved Stevie all along. Not just simple words he managed to say in the last couple of weeks, he really loved this woman. He had loved her since she'd rescued him from the debacle with Honi. Yeah, he'd had the good sense to marry her anyway, but he knew
she
loved
him.
She'd said it outright, but it was also in her eyes, in the way she gave herself to him completely, holding back nothing. And what had he given her? His name, sworn honor, respect, integrity. Some integrity when you came home unexpectedly and thought you'd found your husband in bed with another woman—a woman he had loved although he said he couldn't love you because he was too damaged ever to love again. It hit him then. Before he'd married Stevie, he'd kept Honi off his back. After he'd married, he'd let Honi get to him, seemed to welcome her advances and he knew why now. He'd been
fighting
his natural urge to love Stevie. He never intended to get hurt again. What a coward he was, he thought. Now he could lose everything.