7. Chapter 7
Chapter seven
He just smiles.
I hear a collective moan coming from the crowd. The concert will have a shortened second set and no encore.
The flurry of activity to get security in place to deal with a crowd that will not want to leave in just thirty minutes prevents any time with TJ.
The lights flicker, go out, return. We all freeze, waiting for more.
I hear the crowd roaring, expecting more…with the storm…security is signaling the concert is over and prepares to usher them out. I feel a tug on my arm. So wrapped up in TJ’s eyes, the movement captures TJ’s attention before my own. I bend down to hear what my manager is saying.
I nod and glance at TJ.
“The car will be waiting, one song,” Randall urges. “It’s getting bad out there.”
As if on cue, there is another flicker to the lights. They are much slower to return this time. The crowd reacts with a collective “Ooooh.” Then the boisterous demand for more begins again…I dash back onto the stage…grab the mic and thank everyone. I play one more song and then urge them to get home or back to wherever they are going safely. The lights flicker again. I’m not sure now if this is the storm or a ploy by the arena to get everyone to leave.
When I exit the stage, they cut those lights completely. No floor lights, no warm glow from behind the curtains. Total darkness. The get-out-he’s-not-coming-back sign.
Randall leads the way. TJ and I have a very attractive, very tall black woman with thin dreads framing her face, escorting us. She cups a hand over her ear and then responds to whatever was said into her earpiece, speaking into the tiny mic clipped to the lapel of her jacket.
She glances at TJ and me to make sure we are keeping up with her swift strides. As we practically run through the corridor, I catch a couple of glimpses of photos of athletes and logos painted on the walls and see a sign for Visitor Locker Room and I realize TJ has probably strolled through these very halls before. Numerous times. This all seems excessively rushed and has a secret service doomsday feel to it. Which seems very odd to me until the air hits us when they open the doors and escort us outside.
Furiously whipping wind slaps my face and tiny ice pellets sting my cheeks. My lungs sting too with the inhale of the frigid air, and I catch my breath. Fuck, this is bad.
I slide into the seat and TJ follows. I don’t even get the chance to thank the woman for the escort before she disappears. Randall looks in the car door and scowls before retreating and slamming the door and tapping on the roof.
When the car pulls out from under the awning, the ice pellets relentlessly pound at the metal, desperate to get in. The lights of the city have a strange glow. It seems some of them are out.
My apartment is close to the arena. It can be a very pleasant walk when people don’t recognize me, which isn’t very often these days. I can occasionally walk along the lake in jeans and hoodie, without makeup and all the flash and fanfare I’ve come to be known for.
TJ and I watch the weather from the warmth of the Town Car. Not speaking…. just trying to come down from that frantic flurry to get us out of the building. The closer we get to my building, the more I wonder what the hell happens next. TJ came here for one reason. I’m going to disappoint him in that regard. I will not give in to his advances. No matter how good he looks. No matter how much my stomach flips when he looks at me. No matter how much fun I know it would be to toy with all those muscles.
I can’t go down this road again. I remind myself of the all the fights I saw him get into on the ice. The fury in his eyes the first time I saw him. Despite the pleasant, sexy man sitting next to me. There is a lot of anger flowing through those veins. And I can’t be any part of that either.
“Why are you here?”
“I thought maybe you’d want to play the National Anthem at one of our games.”
“And it’s your job to schedule such things?” I mock him.
He shrugs.
“I wanted to hear you play again, in person…” TJ pauses. “And I want to play with you.”
Wow. “Subtle.” But it shoots straight to my groin.
“I thought you might be a man who appreciates brutal honesty.”
“I am,” I say and look directly into those hazel eyes of his. “But that isn’t going to change the fact that…what you want to happen tonight isn’t going to happen.”
“Because I’m straight?”
I nod. “I appreciate you want to play. Try something new. And I’m flattered…but the answer is still no. I’m not a toy TJ.”
“And yet, I’m headed to your apartment, I presume.”
Dammit, yes, he is. Am I going to be able to maintain this resolve upstairs? “Chester will take you to the airport, or wherever you want to go.”
A flicker of disappointment and defeat fills his eyes. But he nods, and the car comes to a stop. He makes no move to get out. He moves his legs to allow me to exit.
“Sorry you wasted a trip.”
He smiles. “Hearing you play in person could never be a waste. You’re amazing and I loved it.”
I nod a thank you. I appreciate the compliment. Appreciate even more the sincere look in his eyes. He means it.
“Please take TJ to the airport,” I instruct Chester, but he immediately shakes his head.
“Sir, they shut down the airport. The entire city is shutting down. They are going to make people get off the roads entirely within the hour. I’ll be lucky to get home as it is.”
Which also means I can’t allow him to risk not getting home to his family driving TJ around to find a hotel room.
I nod and when I look at TJ, expecting to find a look of triumph, he actually looks concerned…panicked even. But he schools his features quickly.
“Okay,” I nod.
TJ steps out into the frigid air and hugs his coat tight to his body. I bid Chester good night and to be safe. I even ask him to text me when he is home safe. Although I can already tell cell service is getting dodgy in this weather. I watch him return to the driver’s side of the car and then head through the glass doors of my building. The warm glow emanating from behind them a welcome sight in contrast to the air and eeriness of this angry storm taking over the city and turning it into some apocalyptic nightmare.
“Mr. Reyes,” Kennedy says, and I roll my eyes at him. He smirks. He refuses to call me Nandy or even Fernando…it’s always been, and always will be, Mr. Reyes. And I will always give him a hard time about it. And he always continues with his professionalism. It’s our thing. It makes me happy. It makes him happy, and that’s what matters. He reaches behind the desk at the entry to the building and hands me a violin case. I smile. My baby is home.
“Thank you.”
“Crazy night out there,” he says as he eyes TJ, who has remained silent since we exited the car.
“Never seen it like this, have you?”
“No, sir.”
“Have a good night. Stay safe and warm in here.”
He smiles again. “Same to you, sir.”
I shake my head again… sir .