Waking Up in Vegas(66)
Love may be blind,
But it blind-sided me…
JT crooned the lyrics with a voice rough around the edges, and I found myself nodding, not sure if it was to keep tempo or because the words hit home… ah, who the hell am I kidding? The lyrics were practically pulled from my own head.
This was the song I wanted Jen to hear; it said so many things that I couldn’t articulate (or wasn’t yet willing to).
And if it was currently reaching her ears, it sure as shit wasn’t doing it anywhere in my vicinity. For all I knew, she was still in BK’s office and the overhead speakers were turned down low.
What happened to my life? Jesus. Ever since I met that woman, my normal was… well, it wasn’t. Nothing went according to plan anymore. My emotions had been thrown into a Mixmaster set to frappe, then the bastard at the controls had walked away and left the thing to blend.
I closed my eyes and wished, for the thousandth time, for a fragment of a blessing. Just a shred to tell me that I was heading in the right direction and that this might turn out the way I hoped.
The rattle of the doorknob behind me was almost imperceptible, and I turned quickly, scowling and ready to rip into whoever was presumptuous enough to invite themselves inside while we were on the air.
My glare melted away as I recognized who was closing the door as gently as it had been opened.
Jen gave me a little wave, punctuated by a shrugging duck of her head. The enormous grin plastered to her face had every last doubt evaporating.
Apparently, I only qualified for wish-granting when I was desperate.
Whatever. I’d take it.
As the song finished, Jen launched into clapping and grinning like a kid with a Toys R Us gift card. “I can’t believe you came back! What a fabulous surprise!” she gushed like the fan-girl she was. “I’m so sorry I had to miss most of it.”
JT mumbled something and hugged her, squashing his guitar between the two of them with a clunk, then winked at me over her shoulder. There was no way in God’s green fuck that I was ever going to confess that it had all been arranged just for her. Not now. She’d feel awful, and it would ruin the elation she’d associate with the memory.
I sighed in my head as Paul introduced himself and she let out a squeal.
I grabbed a microphone and wrapped up the show as the door banged open and damn-near everyone in the building crammed into the room. If anybody noticed that my smile looked strained, they didn’t mention it.
Chapter 20
*Never Say Goodbye*
“I heard your show yesterday morning, when Slanker Knox was playing in the studio.” Dr. Cooper wasn’t doing anything clichéd with his hands for once, which threw me for as much of a loop as hearing him say he listened to my show. Somehow, he didn’t strike me as the KLVR type. I’m fairly sure I kept the shock from my face.
“JT’s a cool guy. On Monday, he offered to come back and try to serenade Jensen for me. But the boss called her to his office right before they arrived.”
“Why wouldn’t he wait until after the performance, I wonder?” Like they’d never stopped, Doc Stereotype aimed both his steeple-digits and his laser-stare at me from across the desk. Good to know that everything was right in this corner of my world, at least.
“Probably ‘cause he didn’t know. It was a secret.” Too bad I was actually the surprised one. “I can’t ever let Jen know that it was set up just for her.”
“Why not?”
“Because even though she was only there for half a song, she was so damn happy. Telling her would destroy that.”
He jotted something down in his notebook, and closed the cover before I could decipher his cramped, upside-down cursive. It was a moment before he spoke. I guess he had to get his fingers lined up just right before his voicebox would engage.
“So your girly-movie ploy didn’t work. Big deal—you’ve said it’s not your style, anyway. Take her out instead.”
For a split-second, I wondered what porn had to do with anything. Then I translated girly-movie into chick flick and it all made sense. Kinda.
“What good would getting her drunk at a nightclub do? Jensen getting naked and into my bed is not something either of us need alcohol for. As a matter of fact, sex would be counterproductive right now.” And there’s something I never thought I’d say.
The doc’s weird little geisha-giggle bubbled up from his side of the desk and I had to fight the shiver that tripped up my spine. “Not a night on the town, Tack. A romantic dinner. Someplace where you have to dress up to get in the door.”
I nodded slowly, trying to shake off that freaky laugh without being obvious. He continued smiling, obviously thinking the head-shaking deal meant I was right on board with his suggestion.