Crazy For You (2 page)

“I’m surprised she didn’t ask me about that damn
song.” Roxanne hated that song and she cursed Frank for writing it.
To hear him tell it, she’d been out prostituting herself just
because she could. It hadn’t been that way at all and it pissed her
off that Frank would suggest as much.

“So tell me what happened?” Candy flashed Roxanne an
eager smile. She loved gossip. Especially when it involved the two
of them.

“Well, to make a long story short—” Roxanne
hesitated. “She asked me point blank if Frank Garrett was the
father of my son.”

“No...” Candy’s disbelief glowed in her emerald
eyes, brightening them. “What’d you say?”

“I denied it, of course. But the bitch wouldn’t give
up.” She paused long enough to get a hold of her frustration. “She
even conned me into bringing Frankie out on the set.”

“During taping?” Candy’s voice shook.

“Oh, yes. And she commented on the resemblance too.”
Roxanne reacted like an injured puppy. “And she wasn’t talking
about me and Frankie.”

“Oh, wow.”

“If he sees that show…” Roxanne’s voice trailed off
as she thought about Frank. Quickly though, she regained her
composure and added, “I hate to think of the consequences.”

“Frank’s in his own little world,” Candy said. “The
last thing he’s got time for is to keep up with you.”

“Yeah, right.” Roxanne’s disbelief escaped in her
laughter.

Candy didn’t speak right away. The silence was
deafening. “Did you know their first album was a flop?” she asked,
but didn’t wait for an answer. “When their second album came out,
it did so well that people went out and bought the first one.”

“They have two albums?” Roxanne asked
innocently.

Candy raked an admonishing glare over Roxanne. “They
have three, which is my point exactly.” It was like she knew
Roxanne had chosen to play dumb. Uh oh. That meant the lecture was
coming. “It hasn’t been your concern to keep up with him, so why
should he have gone to so much trouble to keep up with you?”

“Okay, so maybe you’re right.” Roxanne wasn’t quite
ready to give up the fight. “But if what you say is true…then why
do
you
know so much about them?”

Candy ignored Roxanne. “You do have reason to be
concerned though.”

“How so?”

“If Frank sees that show...you’re dead meat.” She
slid her sunglasses back over her eyes and sank down into the
lounge chair.

“That’s very comforting, Can…” Roxanne’s voice
trailed off. She didn’t want to think about what might happen.
Nothing good could come from that.

“Face the facts,” Candy said, “Frankie is a walking,
talking replica of Frank.” Her unwelcome words surrounded Roxanne
like a fine mist. “I know you had your reasons for running away
from him.” Compassion filled her tone, yet if offered little
comfort. “But you better realize…it just might be time to pay the
piper.”

R
oxanne went upstairs to
take a long, hot bubble bath. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub,
she poured bath oil into the stream of running water. She sat there
almost in a trance, watching the tub fill and the bubbles grow.
Satisfied with the water level she turned it off, got undressed and
stepped in. Sliding down through the bubbles, she began to feel
confident that the water would soothe her soul and chase her
troubles away.

Why? Why was this happening now? Especially after
all this time. Everything had been going so well too. But now the
bottom was about to fall out.

Why did it always come back to Frank Garrett?
Roxanne tried to put him out of her mind, just as she’d tried to do
so many times before. But somehow he always managed to keep
sneaking back into her thoughts. A long time ago, she thought
running away would solve her problems. She thought running away
would set her free. Free from Frank. Now she realized she’d been
mistaken.

Her past was about to come back to haunt her. She
knew she wasn’t up to facing Frank. She didn’t know if she’d ever
be ready for that. In Roxanne’s mind she had done nothing but love
Frank. She’d only tried to help him, and in return he’d let her
down. Once again, he’d doubted her before giving her the chance to
explain. And he’d promised he would never do that again.

Roxanne wanted desperately to go back. Back to the
beginning. Back when things were fine. Back before the hatred. Back
when there was only love.

As the water rocked back and forth, time also rocked
back and forth, until Roxanne had no concept of time at all. And
once again, she had no idea what was the past and what was the
present….

***

***

Chapter 1

1981

Late Spring

Tennessee

T
he grave had settled
during the thirteen months since Chuck’s death. A year. Wasn’t that
the expected mourning period for a grief-stricken widow? If so, her
time was up, but Roxanne didn’t feel any better. Candy had said it
was because Roxanne couldn’t let go with all the reminders around
her everywhere she went.

Tears slid down Roxanne’s cheeks as she clawed at
the dirt near the headstone and dug a hole, finger deep. Satisfied
with the depth, she lifted her gaze back to the marker and laid her
hand against the name. Charles Ray Simon.

“I’m sorry.” She choked out the words between sobs.
“I have to go away. Candy says I have to for my own good.” Her hand
slid down the marble. “And you always said your sister was one
smart cookie.” She tried to laugh, but it turned into a pitiful
outcry of pain.

Roxanne slipped the simple gold band off her left
ring finger. The hurt rippled up her chest and poured out in her
soft weeping. She dropped her wedding band into the hole and pushed
the dirt back in, burying the ring. Her heart splintered a little
more, and she swore she felt the last solid piece crumble.

Roxanne Cantrell Simon was convinced—at the age of
nineteen—that she’d never love again.

F
or six months, Candy Simon
had been campaigning for a change. A new start somewhere else. She
wanted it and her best friend turned sister-in-law needed it. And
it wasn’t like Roxanne didn’t have the money—thanks to an insurance
policy and the wrongful death lawsuit.

Finally Roxanne relented, agreeing to set out for
parts unknown.

It must have been fate that led Roxanne and Candy to
Tampa. No other plausible explanation existed for them ending up
there. When they left Tennessee they had no definite destination in
mind, and what made Roxanne take the freeway south rather than some
other direction is anybody’s guess.

A few days later, Roxanne and Candy found themselves
in Tampa, Florida, at the Ramada Inn off 275’s Busch Boulevard
exit. They’d stopped to see what Tampa had to offer.

It was from the desk clerk at the Ramada Inn that
they discovered
The Other Place
—which turned out to be a
trendy, hard-rocking club where Candy felt right at home. The
jam-packed party atmosphere overwhelmed Roxanne and electrified her
all at the same time.

A large bar just inside the door off to the right
offered highly sought-after stools for the club’s many patrons.
Directly to the left, a couple of steps led up to tables and the
deejay’s booth. A path, straight down the middle and well past the
big bar, led to steps descending to the dance floor and the stage
off to the left. Almost hidden, especially from the front door,
another smaller bar off to the right could easily seat about twenty
people.

Roxanne found comfort sitting at the club’s main
bar, but on the end near the door. Candy, however, preferred to
spend her time out on the dance floor. Every so often she’d appear
at Roxanne’s side long enough to sip her drink, then the music
would beckon her back onto the dance floor.

Several men had asked Roxanne to dance, but she
turned them all down briskly. Getting up there on that dance floor
was the last thing she intended to do. Roxanne preferred to sit
back and watch the goings-on of the bar’s other patrons.

She scanned the crowd. About halfway down on the
left side of the bar he caught her eye. His tall, willowy frame
towered above the others. His jet-black hair, full of body,
cascaded just past his shoulders. Even though she was too far away
to identify the color of his eyes, something about them reached
across the bar and captivated her.

Realizing he’d been watching her stare at him, her
bashfulness took over and she looked away. She wondered where Candy
was, but that didn’t last long. Roxanne’s desire to sneak another
peek at the handsome man was too strong.

This is crazy!
What could a man like that
possibly see in me?

She couldn’t help herself and cut her eyes back
toward him…but he was gone.

F
rank hadn’t been expecting
much when he decided to hit
The Other Place
on this rare
night off when the band wasn’t playing. He wasn’t really looking—he
knew half a dozen girls he could call up right now and they’d drop
whatever or whoever they were doing and run down to the bar to meet
him. But they just wanted to be seen out on the town with a
musician, and he wasn’t in the mood to be anyone’s trophy
tonight.

Then he saw her. And she’d been watching him. He’d
moved to the other side of the bar on purpose, just to see if she’d
look for him. She did, and it pleased him.

There was something about her. Something
distinctively different from any of the other girls he’d ever
known. An air of genuine innocence permeated around this girl whose
beauty mesmerized him. Her light chestnut hair hung halfway down
her back, complementing a smile that had a way of luring him in.
She was a classic beauty, but he didn’t think she knew it. She’d
been passively watching the goings-on around her, but now she was
actively searching for someone in particular. Him.

A girl—a pretty blonde, but not Frank’s type—danced
her way back to
Miss You’re-mine-tonight
and grabbed her
drink. Frank stepped up to the bar and ordered another beer.

C
andy leaned against the
bar and sucked down her drink. When she came up for air, she asked
Roxanne, “What’s up? Seen anything you like?”

At first, Roxanne wanted to tell Candy about
him
, but her better judgment told her to keep quiet.
“No.”

“Get me another drink, would you?” Candy asked as
another dance tune filled the air. She ran off, grabbing some guy’s
hand on her way to the dance floor.

Roxanne was glad she hadn’t confided in Candy. Candy
would have embarrassed her. She would’ve gone and gotten the guy
and brought him back to Roxanne’s side. That could’ve turned into
an humiliating situation, especially if he didn’t want to be
gotten.

“Your friend seems to constantly abandon you.” The
voice came from behind her, bringing Roxanne out of her thoughts of
impending doom.

He
was standing behind her. She didn’t know
how she knew it, but she did. An unfamiliar excitement spread
through her. Unable to resist, she glanced over her shoulder and
got lost in his piercing blue eyes. Her instincts told her to look
away, but she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried to break the
spell, she couldn’t do it.

“Let me guess.” He winked at her. “Your friend likes
to dance but you don’t?”

“Nah, not really.”

“I hear you.” He took a drink of his beer. “I hate
dancing.”

She giggled shyly and looked away.

“I’m Frank,” he said, and instantly a strange look
crossed her face. He wasn’t expecting that. “What’s the matter? You
don’t like my name?” he asked, feigning injury.

“No, it’s not that.” She shook her head. “Frank is
my father’s name.”

“Well, there you go.” He glanced at the empty
barstool at her side. “Mind if I sit down?”

“Be my guest.” Her heart fluttered so wildly she
thought it might fly out of her chest. “I’m Roxanne.” She managed
to introduce herself, which wasn’t easy since the stranger sitting
beside her was totally enamoring.

“Roxanne…” he repeated her name and paused, as if
pondering it. “Can I call you Roxie?” He flashed her an
irresistible smile and it was all over.

“Suit yourself,” she said. “So long as I can call
you Frankie.”

He laughed. “Deal.” She could call him whatever she
wanted, if it got him further entwined in her good graces. “How old
are you?” he asked, more for chit-chat’s sake than anything
else.

“Nineteen.”

“Where are you from?” Millions of questions filled
his head. He wanted to learn everything there was to know about
her.

“Tennessee.”

“How long you been living here?”

She shook her head. “We don’t live here.” She played
with her straw, and regret stabbed at his heart. She must have
sensed it because she quickly offered, “But…if my sister and I
decide we like it here...we just might stay.”

That thought mended his wound. If there was the
slightest chance she’d hang around for a while, he’d convince her
it was the thing to do. “Is there anything I can do to persuade you
to stay?” he said, pouring on the charm.

“What are you...writing a book?” Her sharp tone
snapped the words at him. The smirk accompanying her jab lasted for
all of a second or two before it melted from her face. “I’m
sorry…that was rude.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “You’ve got spunk…I like
that.”

She gave him one of those looks that said—
no I
don’t
. Did that mean Frank was affecting her in a way that no
one ever had? He hoped so.

He bought her a drink, another first for Frank, and
they talked the night away. Normally, he would’ve used his status
as the lead singer and co-founder of one of the area’s most admired
bar bands to his advantage, but this time he didn’t think it would
get him far. Instead of trying to charm her with the promise of
music, he conceded the stage. Besides, getting to know her was a
lot more interesting than bragging about himself. Before Frank knew
it, last call had come on like a whirlwind.