4. Aspen
ASPEN
“Hey, Christian, I didn’t expect to hear from you tonight about that gear we talked about, but if you’ll give me a moment to grab a notebook and a…” I said when I answered a most unexpected call.
“I’ll be in Wednesday to take care of that and tell you what went down at Passionfruit the other night, ‘cause honey, you will not believe the way Jacob acted like a fool because he thought he saw Robin’s car parked around the side of the building.
Do not get me started on the shitstorm he caused ‘cause we’ll be here all day, and I’ve got a drag show to run. ”
“Which is why I’m shocked to hear from you in the first place,” I said. “Isn’t it heels down in an hour?”
“Fifty-eight minutes, and I need my favorite wildcat to perform ‘Out Tonight’ because Beauty Belle left me high and dry again. That bitch isn’t getting any more bookings from me until she learns how to tell time.
She’s all the way up in Ridge Port. She thought the show was tomorrow night.
Please, when have we ever held Drag Chapel on a Monday?
She must have drunk a pitcher of margaritas to still think it was Saturday, so can you help me out? ”
Could I?
Yes.
Did I want to leave my comfy chair and the quiet domesticity that had descended over my house? Mmm. Parker’s arrival had cemented the vibe Phoenix’s presence had already established. Did I really want to mess it all up by announcing that I was leaving to perform in a drag show tonight?
Damn.
Who the fuck was I kidding. The moment he’d mentioned the song and the outfit he wanted me to wear, I’d mentally started putting together a sassy intro, from a whole different song, that I’d break into once I’d shifted from lollipop-licking schoolgirl to seductive wildcat.
Ohhh, and I knew which wigs to grab too because they layered beautifully.
“Bitch, did you hear me? I don’t have a finale unless I move Ginger Dream up and beg her to extend her performance, and that still leaves a huge gap near the end. Can you help me out or what?”
“I started putting something together the moment you started talking. I’ll be there in twenty, so don’t go moving Ginger anywhere.
I got you, and I promise, you’ll love the twist I just decided to add.
Tell Donny I need ‘Fallen Angel’ cued up to start and to fade into ‘Out Tonight’ when those guitar notes start to fade in the end.
I’ll wrap the whole thing up with ‘Broken Doll’ for a bit of drama, and that should carry you into the closing announcements. ”
“Holy shit, remind me again why I let you turn me down the first time I asked?”
“Because I was tired of those catty witches complaining about you always making me the headliner,” I reminded him. “Personally, I’d welcome any of them to step up and try to take it from me. Since they won’t, and we both know it, I thought I’d bow out gracefully.”
“And now I have you swooping in to steal the damned show,” he replied, tsking. “Those claws will be out in full force tonight. Now hurry up and get here so I can see the looks on their faces.”
“You asked them to come up with something on the fly, didn’t you?”
“Every last one of them turned me down but Ginger, who told me that she thought she could pull something out of her ass if I really needed her to.”
“And have it look like she’d just shat it out and waved it around, too, no thank you, our patrons deserve better than that, especially on Chapel night. I’m hanging up now. Be there soon.”
I air kissed the phone before hitting the red icon to disconnect the call, La-Z-Boy snapping into its upright position as I leapt out of the chair.
“Alright, guys, we’ve got an official drag emergency,” I announced. “You can either find something to wear down to the club tonight or hang out here until I get back, but it won’t be until late.”
“You’re headlining again, aren’t you?” Parker asked, lips having turned down into a scowl I instantly mistook for disapproval.
I started to say something too and would have been wrong as hell for doing it.
“Now I wish I hadn’t changed before coming over here,” Parker declared, plucking at one of the holes in the raggedy t-shirt he’d thrown on.
“We’re about the same size,” Phoenix said. “I’ve got some jeans and a Harley T-shirt that should fit you. Might be a little loose, though.”
“Loose I can deal with; being seen in public in worn sweatpants and this tattered excuse for a t-shirt, not so much.”
“Come on, before we get left behind,” Phoenix said. “I still can’t see well enough to drive, so if I’ve got to ride in a cage, I’d rather it be his big one than that cramped thing you drive. How the fuck do you even fit in that, anyway?”
“Carefully,” I declared before Parker could defend that sporty-ass BMW convertible he was so proud of. “Unless he has the top down.”
“Because it was bought for that specific purpose,” Parker pointed out. “If I’ve got to put the top up, that means the weather is shit and I’d be better off walking.”
“Quit yapping and go get dressed,” I grumbled, waving them in the direction of the spare bedroom Phoenix had put a couple backpacks full of stuff in after I refused to let him stay alone in his cramped room above the bar until his vision cleared.
Not that he’d complained.
He smiled while I was fussing over him, and still slept on my couch, despite the perfectly good bed in the room he’d stashed his stuff in.
While they headed down the hall, I ducked into my bedroom, selected my wigs, tucked them in their box and grabbed the garment bags holding the costumes I wanted.
The makeup case stayed packed. Platform shoes were on the stand next to the rack that held my heels.
I decided to go with the thigh-high stripper boots tonight with the performance I had planned and laid them in the duffel bag that hung over my shoe collection.
Theater had been my life since I was small and found my aunt’s costume trunk from her off-off-off-Broadway days. I was rocking heels when most boys my age were vying for the newest pair of Keds, and I still saw no reason to wear sneakers unless someone insisted upon forcing me to hike somewhere.
And it better be a short hike too, because I was a bit of a diva about my skin and pale enough to burn if I stayed out in the sun too long.
I blamed my Norwegian ancestors for that and hair that had always leaned closer to brilliant straw than gold.
My nana used to say that my hair was the color yellow aspired to be, while I always wished it looked like the sun, with streaks of red and gold woven through the strands, the way they did in Phoenix’s hair, making me wonder if that was his real name, or one he’d picked up at the club.
Either way, it was beautiful and fit the warm, gentle soul of the man I was coming to see more of as we laughed together over movies and my tendency to make mocktails to go with damn near everything I cooked.
Oh shit, the food! I needed to get that put away before we headed out.
Fortunately, it was just finger foods: stuffed mushrooms, cubed sandwiches, and charcuterie fixings, all of which were absent by the time I made it back to the living room.
The remote sat beside the candles one of them had blown out, while the pair stood waiting for me in the kitchen, freshly rinsed glasses lined up beside the sink like silent sentinels waiting to be filled again.
“Wow, looks like I’ll be arriving with a pair of badass bodyguards tonight,” I said as I set my cases down so I could snag my keys off the hook by the door.
Before I could pick them back up, Phoenix and Parker carried them to the door and even loaded everything in the luggage compartment of the SUV.
“I hope you intend to defend our virtue if anyone gets handsy tonight,” Parker grumbled from the backseat.
When I looked in the rearview mirror, I saw him with his arm stretched across the seat, body angled towards the center console so he could hear what was going on up front.
“I would if I didn’t know for a fact that you lost the last of it back in 2017 on that infamous road trip we took to Palm Springs.”
“My hangover had a hangover by the time we stumbled to breakfast in the morning at that little café that served all the French food. I went from not wanting to smell or look at anything that was supposed to go in my mouth, to nicking bites off everyone’s plates until they forced me to order food of my own. ”
“Because when you did order, you got andouille sausage, brioche French toast with berries and whipped cream, a platter of assorted mini quiche, and a gods-be-damned parfait,” I reminded him. “We were all sitting around sipping coffee until our eyeballs were floating, waiting for you to finish.”
“If everything tasted as good as it sounds, I’d have pigged out too,” Phoenix declared.
“Someday, you’ll have to get him to make you his crème br?lée tarts. The crust is brioche French toast, and you’d swear he worked at a patisserie all of his life with the way he can just whip up a perfect custard.”
“I’ll have to take your word on the whole patisserie thing, since I don’t know what the fuck that is,” Phoenix declared. “But it all sounds delicious. I am prepared to beg if need be and go pick up the groceries.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” I declared. “We’ll have them delivered in the morning, and I’ll make tarts and a few other surprises before we settle in for movies.”
“And I’ll make the coffee, since I fully intend to crash on your couch so I’m there in time for breakfast,” Parker declared. “I believe I’m still owed the cinematic afternoon you lured me to your lair with.”
“My lair?” I said as we wound through streets that were mostly empty on our way downtown. “You make it sound like I’m wrapping victims in silk robes and dragging them back to the house for long conversations about lingerie and the latest season of housewives.”