Rock Star (35 page)
Through the fog of his euphoria, Bryan barely heard anything that any of them had to say. He had gone back to his hotel room and spent the last twelve hours counting the minutes until he would see Callie again. Of course, he hadn’t factored in the ridiculous amount of time it took to actually get to the airport. He knew he should have driven, but Kelly had absolutely insisted that after weeks of little sleep, compounded by a nasty cold and a grueling concert schedule, he was in no shape to take on New York traffic. He was sure she was right, but God, he hated waiting.
Kelly gave her boss a malevolent glance. Despite her staunch objections, he had insisted on accompanying her to the airport. He’d been determined to go even when she reminded him that some airport employees act as spotters for the paparazzi, and his antics the previous evening were bound to set off a firestorm of new publicity just as the story was dying down at last. Bryan had made it clear that he didn’t give a damn. He wasn’t giving Callie an opportunity to change her mind, even if he had to do the hated talk-show circuit again.
At the airport Bryan shifted restlessly in his seat as they queued up to the Delta terminal. Finally, almost sizzling with impatience, he left Kelly to park the car and jumped out to sprint up to the gate. Kelly shook her head. Obviously Bryan had lost his mind. She just hoped he didn’t get tackled. Running anywhere in the vicinity of an airport was liable to get him shot in these times of heightened security against terrorism.
Bryan arrived at the gate, only to realize that Callie’s flight wasn’t due for at least an hour. He checked the board; at least the flight was still on time. He began to pace impatiently. What if she’d changed her mind? This was it; he couldn’t put his feelings on the line like this again. What more could he do? He had been willing to do anything to get her back, but damn, a man had to draw a line somewhere. In an effort to maintain a low profile he’d tucked his ponytail, distinctive for its length and color, into the back of his black denim work shirt. He tugged on it now in irritation, not really caring if he drew unwanted attention to himself.
Knowing that he would go insane if he didn’t have something to do, he recalled the Starbucks he had passed on his way to the concourse and decided to go back and get a cup of coffee. Perhaps that would help take some of the edge off his frayed nervous system. As he strolled back down the hallway, he recognized at least one, possibly two, paparazzo. He paused. Maybe if he asked them to lay off…Nope, that almost never worked. Over the years he’d established a relationship with a couple of photographers and could occasionally request a little indulgence. Some of them did actually have a streak of decency that could be appealed to. One of them had even been at the scene of his last drunken auto accident, but instead of taking pictures that would probably have been worth a fortune, he’d called B.T. instead. Bryan didn’t know if that was for his benefit or B.T.’s. The guy was probably on his manager’s payroll, but nonetheless, he was grateful. Unfortunately, he didn’t know either of these guys, so there’d be no goodwill forthcoming. Besides, they almost always expected some kind of payback in return, and he didn’t like owing anyone, especially not those types of favors. He sighed, hoping against hope that they were there to harass some other poor slob.
After finishing his coffee and mangling a muffin, Bryan walked quickly back to the gate. When he saw the airline personnel opening the door, he knew Callie’s flight had arrived. After a brief pause, passengers began to disembark. Kelly had booked Callie a first-class ticket, so she should be in the first group to exit the plane. Almost jumping out of his skin with nervousness, Bryan restlessly searched the face of each passenger, but didn’t see Callie. Then just as he was about to give up, resigned to the fact that they were over, he saw her walk into the concourse. Looking pretty and feminine in a pale pink linen sleeveless vest and matching trousers, she literally took his breath away. For a moment he stood frozen in place, almost disbelieving that she had come to her senses at last. Then, startled out of his paralysis by announcements over the loudspeaker, he rushed towards her. She met him halfway and they just stood gazing at each other for a moment, absorbing the delight of being together again. Then as if someone suddenly flipped a hidden switch, they threw themselves into a fierce embrace and feverishly sought one another’s mouth as if they’d been parted for decades instead of mere weeks. Those kisses promised that no matter what they had to weather to be together, it would be worth it. Nothing would ever part them again.
Certain sounds still penetrated the fog Callie’s presence engendered in Bryan’s fevered brain. He paused, positive that he’d heard the distinctive whir of a camera shutter. Damning all the gods who had apparently conspired to ensure his lifelong misery, he broke off the passionate kiss, grasped Callie’s arms, and put her slightly away from him. Callie looked up, bewildered, still quite dazed from their intense embrace. He reached down and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the traffic flow to somewhat limited privacy behind a column.
Watching her eyes closely to gauge her reaction, Bryan nodded his head in the direction of the shutter noise. “Paparazzi,” he murmured. He didn’t want to tell her, but knowing their relationship would not survive another shock like the one that had wrenched them apart before, he was compelled to reveal their presence.
Still not totally alert, her eyes widened in surprise. “Paparazzi? Where?” she asked, looking around wildly at the crowd of travelers.
Bryan wanted to scream as he watched her respond just as he’d feared. Seeing their relationship crash and burn before his very eyes, he pointed towards one of the two men he’d identified earlier. Knowing it was useless, he still tried diligently to pull their relationship out of the flames. “Baby, don’t worry about it. They’ll just take their pictures and…”
Callie shook her head and gave him an oblique smile as she placed two fingers over his mouth to silence him. Then, her succulent lips parting into a huge grin, she looked over her shoulder and waved energetically at the photographer Bryan had indicated to ensure that he was still watching. Turning back to Bryan, she threw her arms enthusiastically around his neck, clasping him to her body in a strong embrace and covered his lips with a long, lingering kiss, not letting go until she’d heard the camera’s shutter whir several times.
After a long moment she broke the kiss, and then still smiling cheekily, waved at the reporter again as she said, “The hell with the paparazzi! I might even go on Oprah!”
Bryan, still disoriented from the effects of the kiss, stared at her bemusedly. Then he pulled her back into his arms, relieved that she was willing to accept one of the greatest liabilities of his career. He had to be sure; he couldn’t take anymore uncertainty or confusion. Still holding her tenderly in his arms, he gazed into her velvety soft eyes, and raised a brow inquiringly. “My mate?”
If possible, Callie’s grin widened, and she reached up to pull him down for another kiss. In her best imitation of a California surfer dude voice, she replied, “You bet your ass, dude, your mate for life.”