Authors: Donna Every
By
the time Shari repaired the damages that had been done and got downstairs the
first guests had already arrived. They were local celebrities that Lily thought
it good to invite. Soon the pool deck was filled with rock stars, pop stars and
movie stars, most of whom had bodyguards who lurked in the shadows conversing
with one another and keeping an eye on their charges.
In
Shari’s opinion, they were unnecessary in Barbados because she had found
Barbadians to be quite reserved and unlikely to accost a celebrity. Nick held
her hand and introduced her to people that she had seen only in the
entertainment news or in movies and music videos. She found it surprisingly
easy to talk to them, finding common topics to talk about. When Nick shared
that she was making a documentary about him she suddenly became quite sought
after. A documentary was, after all, great PR.
A
bevy of waiters and waitresses passed out all manner of hors d’oeuvres which
were a precursor to the meal that would be served later. A champagne fountain
provided a constant flow of bubbly and waiters delivered drinks to those whose
tastes didn’t run to champagne. Shari wasn’t really a lover of champagne, but
it was easier to hold her glass under the fountain than to wait for a waiter to
appear. There would be fireworks at midnight and breakfast at dawn for anyone
who was still there.
She
looked around for Nick and saw him talking to Rihanna who had recently arrived.
He gestured her to come over and introduced them saying, “This is my friend
Shari. She’s from the US, but she’s got Barbadian roots.” That started an
interesting conversation about the history of Barbados and the preference that
many of the plantation owners had for their colored mistresses and their slaves
which resulted in a society of mixed races.
“That
explains my attraction to you,” Nick murmured in her ear when they were alone
again.
“Nick,
that is in poor taste. Many of those women didn’t have any choice but to submit
to their master and some became their mistresses so that they could improve
their living conditions.”
“That’s
still very present today,” he countered. Shari couldn’t deny it. She just hoped
that Nick didn’t think that was what she was trying to do. Surely he should
know her better than that.
The
traditional countdown began shortly after that and Nick pulled her to him and
kissed her chastely on the lips as “Auld Lang Syne” blared from the speakers.
Fireworks shot into the heavens in a glorious array of colors, each one more
amazing than the next, ushering in the New Year. Shari wondered what it would
have in store.
By
four o’clock Shari was dying for her bed. The party had been great; not at all
as intimidating as she had thought it might be. She had danced more than she
had in recent times and she would take pleasure in telling some of her
girlfriends about the celebrities she had danced and chatted with. It was
surreal. Of course she’d also danced with Nick who made sure that he grabbed
her only when an up-tempo song was playing. They’d had enough temptation for
the night.
He
had been very attentive all evening, constantly checking to make sure that she was
OK and having a good time. He talked to several women, but she didn’t notice
him having any particular interest in them and he didn’t seem to have drunk
very much either.
When
the last guest had left around five, Shari staggered to one of the lounge
chairs in the pool house and collapsed on it, relieved to be off her feet.
Steve and Marie and Brad and Michele had gone to bed around four and, although
Nick had assured Shari that she didn’t have to stay up, she felt that she was
acting as the hostess and therefore should stick around until the last person
left.
Nick
sat near the end of the lounge chair and put Shari’s feet on his lap. He
slipped off her shoes and began to gently massage her aching feet. Shari could
barely restrain groans of pleasure as he rubbed each toe and then her arches.
“I
think you missed your calling,” she purred. Nick laughed. “Great party, by the
way. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, it wasn’t bad at all.
I had a good time and I wasn’t at all intimidated by the who’s who.”
“I
didn’t expect you to be, Shari. After all, if I couldn’t impress you, who
could?” She laughed tiredly in agreement. “So I know that you could easily
flow in my world and I can flow in yours. I love you, Shari. Every day I find
something else to love about you. Marry me. Take a chance on me.”
Shari
did not see that coming. She knew that Nick was attracted to her and seemed to
enjoy her company, but she hadn’t been sure where it was all leading to. She
loved Nick and was very tempted to just say “yes”, but in her heart she knew
that she couldn’t commit to marrying Nick while he was still living according
to his own ways rather than God’s.
“Nick,
I love you too.” She sat up and leaned towards him in her desire to make him
understand her heart. “It’s been growing on me a long time, but I knew for sure
from the time Jessie crawled onto your lap and you hugged her. And definitely when
you called her and Haley over and hugged them after Haley dropped her bombshell.”
They laughed reminiscently. “But you know about being unevenly yoked and all
that.” Nick nodded. “Then I don’t have to say any more.”
Her
heart felt heavy and she desperately wanted Nick to say that he would turn his
life over to God again, but he wasn’t at that place yet and she knew that she
couldn’t force him.
“So
is that a ‘no’?” He sounded as heavy as she felt.
“I’m
afraid it has to be,” she confirmed sadly.
January 2
Miami Herald
The
place to be for New Year’s Eve was the beautiful island of Barbados where our
sources informed us that Nick Badley rented a villa and had a party that rocked
the island. The guest list read like the Who’s Who of music and film and local
girl Rihanna also rang out the old and rang in the new there.
Nick
Badley was apparently very close to beautiful journalist Shari Goodwin who is
working on a documentary about the bad boy rock star. Or should we say ‘former
bad boy’? Does the song “I’m Not the Same” that he sang at the Garden and the
fact that he has not been seen on the town recently mean that the relationship
is serious? Could Nick Badley be going for marriage number three?
Tim
carefully folded up the paper. He didn’t want Sarah to see that he’d been reading
the article about Nick. It seemed that the b--- was still around. He knew that
Nick had been sampling it even though he denied it. Well, it was time to stir
up the pot. Ms. Shari Goodwin would not be wife number three and Nick would not
be enjoying fame and fortune while he was struggling to pick up the pieces of
his life. Nick would soon be too busy trying to extricate himself from some
perfectly concocted dirt to be thinking about marriage. In fact, if all went
according to plan, he’d be trying to figure out how to get out of jail in less
than ten or so years.
Every
year the band met at the beginning of the year with the management and PR team
to discuss what they had planned for the year. They were supposed to meet on
the first weekend of the year in Los Angeles. He’d call Steve and wish him
Happy New Year and see if that was still on.
Steve’s
phone rang for several times before he finally answered, sounding as if he was
still in bed.
“Happy
New Year, man,” Tim said cheerfully. “You sound as if you’re still in bed.”
“Tim?
That’s because I am.” Steve sounded rough. “I’m on holiday in Barbados.”
Tim
sat up. So Steve had been at Nick’s party. He’d have to tread carefully.
“I
just wanted to touch base before I check into rehab tomorrow. I want to start
my year right.”
“That’s
great news, man!”
“Yeah.
Sarah’s happy too. You guys still getting together this weekend to discuss
plans for the year?”
Steve
hesitated. “Yeah.”
“OK,
well tell the others hello for me. I guess you’re going to the same hotel as usual?”
“Yeah,
man. You know they have the best spa and food,” Steve joked.
“OK.
All the best.”
He
ended the call and quickly scrolled through his contacts to find another name:
Angel Bell. He laughed. She was no angel. She was perfect for his plan. They’d met
when he was at the same retreat a few years before. She was a wanna-be actress
who had come on to Nick at the time when he was trying to be faithful to Patti
and he hadn’t been too kind in putting her off. She must have caught him on one
of his bad days. Tim was thankful that “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned”.
Angel had run into him after leaving Nick and was furious with Nick’s
rejection. Tim had soothed her ruffled feathers that night and, since then, he’d
called her whenever they were in town.
He’d
already contacted her after the holidays to prep her about his plans. He’d
promised her to talk to a producer he knew in Hollywood and see if he could get
her connected. That and $10,000 was her price.
He
pressed her number and she answered after the first ring as if she’d been
waiting for his call.
“Show
time, baby. I need you to get ready to act as if you’re auditioning for the
last part in Hollywood and you’ll die if you don’t get it...Yes. They’re coming
next weekend and staying at the same place. It’s up to you to get into his room
with the stuff and do your part. I’ve already spoken to my friend and given him
your contact information. Once it’s done, I’ll wire the money to you.”
Nick
was never one to wallow in self-pity and he couldn’t have gotten as far as he
had in the industry if he didn’t have determination, so he saw Shari’s refusal
as a temporary setback and didn’t put any pressure on her. Later that day, the
group had lazed around, challenging each other to make outrageous resolutions
and recovering from the party the night before.
The
other couples were leaving on the 3rd so they’d planned to see a bit of the
island the next day. The agents had arranged a van to pick them up for the tour
and then drop them to cruise on one of the catamarans where they’d be able to
swim with the turtles. He knew that Shari would enjoy that.
When
the others left, they would get out of the villa and spend the day at the
museum and George Washington House, which was close to the museum, to explore
the history of Barbados some more. That would definitely be a better idea than
hanging around the swimming pool with Shari in a bikini or some other tempting
swimwear. This was harder than when he was trying to be faithful to Patti. At
least then he was busy all the time, playing at concerts or rehearsing so that
he would literally drop into his bed at the end of the day.
Now,
he was on holiday and had nothing pressing to do other than think of all the
more pleasurable things he could be doing with Shari. It wasn’t that he only
thought of her in physical terms, but it was more a case of when you denied
yourself something it became the biggest thing occupying your mind. He needed
to refocus. He was sorry that he hadn’t brought a guitar with him because he
could at least get out some of the music and songs that were knocking around in
his head.
Brad
had breached the no work rule to remind him about the retreat the next weekend.
He had actually forgotten about it, although they had been doing it for a few
years now. Shari was really messing with his head. He should talk to them about
changing the venue. It was getting a little tired going to the same place every
year and he didn’t need the constant reminder of how he’d flown off at that girl
who had come on to him. He couldn’t even remember her name, but it hadn’t been
a pretty scene.
It
was at one of his lowest times when he’d been trying to be faithful to Patti
but could already see the writing on the wall and was feeling that he’d failed
in his marriage again. The last thing he had needed was some wanna-be star
trying to get into his bed and he’d freaked out on her. He’d been Mr. Hyde to
the max.
Thankfully,
Tim had seemed to pick up the pieces which had eased his guilt a bit. He
wondered if she’d ever made it in Hollywood.
For
their last night together, Nick and Shari returned to George Washington House,
which they had visited previously, for a special theatrical dinner show called
Dinner with George. In 1751, George Washington had stayed at that house for six
weeks on his only trip outside of the US and so it had become a famous landmark
in Barbados. It had been beautifully restored and furnished to replicate the
time of his visit.
Nick
and Shari were drawn to the dinner show since it only catered to thirty people
and so was less public than eating at a restaurant, although there were several
award-winning ones in the island they could choose from. They were looking
forward to the
5-course 18
th
century dinner served by waiters in
traditional dress. The meal was accompanied by a number of fine wines as well
as rum and local juices, but Nick drank very little, choosing to keep a clear
head. Shari, on the other hand, appeared to be less cautious, having wine with
her dinner and then adventurously sampling the rum punch that was being
offered.
Nick
enjoyed the theatrical dinner, but couldn’t keep his eyes off Shari. Tonight
she was wearing another red dress, but this time with spaghetti straps and a
draped neckline. It was quite modest compared to dresses that he’d seen other
women wear, but her exposed shoulders and neck were doing a number on him. How
pathetic he had become where a woman’s shoulders were stirring him. Not just
any woman’s; Shari’s. Maybe that was the difference.
“That
show was amazing. I love Barbados!” Shari declared enthusiastically and rather
loudly as she wrapped her arm in Nick’s and made her way unsteadily to the
taxi. “I don’t feel like going back home.” She added as they settled into the
back seat of the luxury car.
“I
know what you mean. I have to go to a retreat that we have at the beginning of
every year to discuss the year ahead. I can’t find any enthusiasm for it, to
tell the truth. I want to do something meaningful with my life.”
“That’s
great!”
“I’ve
been thinking about what you said. I can donate musical instruments to kids so
that they can learn how to play and create music and I can also talk to them
about my experiences, the dangers of drugs and stuff like that. I’ll bring it
up at the retreat. Lily will probably love it but I won’t let her use it for PR.
It’s not about that.” He now sounded more enthusiastic about going.
“That
sounds wonderful, Nick. So many kids will be impacted by that and Lily will be
thrilled. Where’s the retreat?”
“In
Hollywood, though Lord knows why we keep going there. I plan to talk to Brad
and Lily about moving it to another location. That one is getting tired.”
“Your
documentary will probably air in a couple of weeks because it’s just about
finished except for the bit at your parents’. I think that part alone will give
the public a different perspective of you, as it gave me. Nick Badley, the
family man. I’m sorry Brian wasn’t there to capture some of those moments. And
you looked so cute in your family videos.” She pinched his cheek to emphasize
her point.
“I
believe you’ve had too much to drink, Shari.” Nick said with an indulgent
smile.
“Too
much to drink? Really Nick, I’m a good girl. I never drink too much. Besides, I
know that ‘wine is a mocker and…’ ” She couldn’t remember the rest of the
quote. Nick laughed as she trailed off, puckering her forehead in
concentration.
“Just
as well that you’re with me and no one else. I would never take advantage of
you in an inebriated state. You know that I would never force you to do anything
against your will.” Nick looked at her intently. He wanted her to know that in
spite of his many shortcomings he was no Tim.
“I
know that, Nick. I trust you completely in that regard. It’s me that I’m having
difficulty trusting,” she confessed, giving a self-deprecating laugh.
“In
vino veritas. A weapon for my arsenal.”
“Believe
me, you don’t need any more weapons in your arsenal. I’m on the brink of
surrender. The only thing that is keeping me honest is probably my mother
praying for me.”
“I
love your honesty, Shari. That’s what drew me to you even before your hot bod.”
He pretended to leer at her bosom. Shari rolled her eyes.
She
loved when Nick was playful like this. He seemed to be everything she wanted in
a man. Why couldn’t he see what was keeping them apart?
Nick
closed the door of the villa behind them and locked it. He had given the staff
the night off since he and Shari would be out for dinner and the others had
left.
“I
can’t believe that we have to get up at five in the morning to get to the
airport on time,” groaned Shari dramatically.
Nick
laughed. “I’m the one who’s usually going to bed at five not getting up, so think
how hard this is for me.”
“Don’t
remind me,” advised Shari. She knew the kind of hours that Nick kept when he
was on the road.
“If
you go to bed now you can still get about seven hours of sleep. I think I’ll
have a drink on the patio before I turn in.”
“I’ll
join you for a while, although I think I’ll pass on the drink. How much wine
did I have, anyway?” She had felt a little dizzy when they’d stood up to leave
the restaurant. “I’m sure those waiters kept refilling my glass when I was
engrossed in the show.”
“It
was probably more the rum punch you had at the end.”
“Why
did I drink that?” She groaned. “It was delicious, but now I feel terrible.”
She collapsed on a lounge chair by the pool.
It
was a beautiful night; quite cool by Barbadian standards as it was the colder
time of the year. Shari rubbed her hands up and down her arms as a slightly
chilly breeze disturbed the nearby trees.
“Cold?”
asked Nick, settling down next to her on the wide lounge chair and drawing her
close. You really think you can do this? He asked himself.
“Not
anymore,” she said contentedly, snuggling into his warmth. “I really enjoyed
this time in Barbados, Nick. Thank you so much for inviting me.”
“You
don’t have to thank me, Shari. It was definitely my pleasure. Speaking of
pleasure, this might be a good time to call it a night before things go south.”
“OK,”
Shari agreed.
Nick
swung his legs to the deck and started to get up. He should never have looked
back at Shari as she lay there not moving in spite of agreeing to go to bed. One
of her straps slid down her shoulder, creating unwanted images in Nick’s mind
of what would happen if he pushed the other one down. He groaned silently and
turned to get up.
“Nick,
I feel ill,” she cried plaintively. “Can you take me to my room?”
Was
she for real? This was going to be torture. Talk about the dangers of drinking!
If he ever had a daughter she would never be allowed to drink, especially if
she went out on a date. Under normal conditions Shari would never have dangled
temptation before him like this.
“Sure,
Shari, but please don’t throw up on me,” he teased, picking her up in his arms.
She giggled and put her hands around his neck.
“How
much did you eat this holiday, woman? You weigh a ton!” Nick carried her
weight easily, but tried to make light of the fact that he could feel her
softness pressed against his chest and her hands were playing with the hair
that brushed against his neck. He’d better get her to her room quickly.
“I do
not, Nick Badley,” she protested. “Besides, you’re strong. Just look at those
muscles.” She took one hand from his neck to caress his biceps through his
cotton shirt. OK, that was it! He practically ran up the stairs as if she was
weightless and deposited her on her bed, but Shari didn’t release him.
“Kiss
me goodnight, Nicky.” Nicky? Shari was going to be mortified if she remembered
any of this tomorrow.
“I
don’t think so, Shari. Don’t play with fire.” He peeled her hands from around
his neck and bent down to take off her shoes.
“That’s
what my mother said. Great minds think alike.”
Nick
shook his head. He couldn’t help smiling at this Shari, totally undone by a few
glasses of wine and a lethal rum punch.
“Good
night, Shari.” He bent down and gave her a brotherly peck on her forehead.
“That
wasn’t what I meant.” She pouted in the cutest way.
He
had to leave. Now.
“Anything
else would be a bad idea.” Why was he still debating the issue with Shari
rather than leaving? He knew why. He wanted to stay desperately; more than he’d
wanted anything in a very long time. He battled with himself for a few minutes
before he groaned and slipped onto the bed, taking Shari in his arms.
Their
lips met as if by mutual agreement and Nick unleashed all the passion that he’d
held back for the last three weeks. Their kiss shook him to the core. Shari
caressed his back and restlessly moved her legs against his. He knew what she
craved because he craved the same thing. He tore his mouth from hers and she
protested, relaxing again and throwing back her head to give his tormenting
lips access to her neck and her shoulders. She didn’t stop him when he pushed
the straps off her shoulders as he had been tempted to do by the pool and his
lips trailed lower, nuzzling aside the fabric of her dress. He pulled back and
opened his eyes to enjoy the treasure that he was about to unveil and lifted
his hand to do what his mind had already consented to.