What Now? (9 page)

“Sorry, you’ll have to order some.” Steve’s voice brought
her attention back to the room. “Excuse my manners, Shari. Can I get you a
drink from the bar or something to eat from room service?”

“Thanks. An iced tea would be nice, if you have it. But
Nick can get it while we continue talking. Nick, do you mind?” she asked
sweetly, remembering how he had ordered her to get room service for him in
Vegas.

“Not at all, Shari. I’d be happy to give you anything you
want anytime you want it,” he said suggestively in a low, sexy voice.

“The only thing I want from you is my iced tea, thanks.”
He could not be serious. After Bianca just walked out of his bedroom? Not that
she would ever entertain his outrageous invitation. Had he forgotten that she was
a journalist and there solely for his documentary? “And you might want to put
on a shirt,” she suggested.

“If my bare chest is making you uncomfortable, I’ll put
on a shirt just to please you,” he teased. She was glad when he disappeared to
look for the iced tea.

Steve looked at her curiously, wondering at the
undercurrents he was sensing.  Nick never could resist a challenge and Shari
Goodwin was definitely a challenge, unlike the women who threw themselves at
him in every city. She seemed like a sensible woman. He hoped that she would
have more sense than to succumb to Nick’s charms.

Nick rejoined them in a few minutes, thankfully having
bathed and changed into another pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He hadn’t bothered
to shave, but he had washed his hair and it was still damp and tousled as if
he’d only towel dried it. He sat next to Shari on the couch again, making her
feel distinctly uncomfortable with his proximity. She could smell the clean
scent of soap emanating from him and was tempted to move closer to her side of
the couch, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he
affected her. And boy was he beginning to affect her. Yes, she needed to pray
all right, but not for him; for herself.

She deliberately ignored him and, turning to Steve, began
to ask him about his music and who had influenced him. He rattled off some
musicians that she was familiar with as well as others that she had never heard
about before. Nick sat quietly, not seeming to mind being left out of the conversation,
but Shari could sense his gaze on her and tried not to feel self-conscious.

Nick studied the curls at the back of Shari’s head. As
she bent to type a note on her tablet, her nape was exposed and the sudden
desire to caress the smooth skin with his lips shot through him. Where the hell
did that come from? Shari Goodwin was quite attractive; OK, very attractive,
and he enjoyed teasing her, but he didn’t want her in that way. She really
wasn’t his type. She was too moral and way too easily shocked.

So why did his fingers, seemingly of their own volition, reach
out and caress her neck? Shari almost jumped out of her skin. Her head whipped
around to stare at him in shock and Nick was pleased to see that she looked
rattled. She obviously was not as immune to him as she appeared.

“What was that about, Nick Badley?” she snapped at him.
“How dare you touch me in that way?”

“What way?” he asked innocently. She couldn’t really
answer his question without sounding silly but, to her, his touch had been
intimate. She knew that he would laugh her out of the room if she said that.
After all, what she considered intimate was not even foreplay to him.

“Unprofessionally! Don’t do that again,” she instructed.

Nick held up both hands in surrender and was saved from
responding by a sharp rap on the door. Room service was right on time.

Nick delivered the iced tea to her and, when he had
finished eating his baby back ribs smothered in barbecue sauce, baked potatoes
and grilled vegetables at the table, he brought over his dessert platter and
offered some to them. Shari was tempted to ignore him but, after taking one
look at a moist-looking piece of chocolate cake with rich frosting, she changed
her mind. Steve took a fruit tart, claiming that at least it had fruit, while
Nick settled down with the rest of the platter on his lap.

Shari looked at him in surprise. “You’re going to eat all
those? I didn’t know you had a sweet tooth. Although I should have guessed from
the breakfast you ordered in Vegas.”

“You see, there’re still a lot of things you don’t know
about me, Shari Goodwin, but you only have to ask.” 

Shari rolled her eyes and raised her icing-covered
fingers to her mouth. Looking up, she caught Nick’s eyes on her mouth as she
licked the icing from her fingers. Her eyes met his and she saw them darken
with something that looked like desire. He shifted the plate on his lap and
Shari’s eyes followed the movement before quickly retreating to the safety of
her interview with Steve.

“Uh, you were telling me about your heroes in music,
Steve,” she stumbled over the words, trying to get a grip on her thoughts.

“I’d just about finished that,” he reminded her.

“Oh, yes.” Her face felt hot with embarrassment. “So what
is the best memory you have with the band?” She threw out the first thing that
came to her mind.

Steve thought for a moment and began to smile. “It was a
daytime gig we had at a big open air arena in Dallas. We were fairly new on the
scene, at least nationally, and it was really cool when we were flown in by
helicopter and dropped into the arena and then we ran through a path in the
crowd onto the stage. Remember that, Nick?”

“Yeah, that was something. The crowd went wild. It was
pretty awesome at the time. One of my best memories was performing in Paris for
the first time and seeing the Eifel Tower in the distance and being amazed that,
even in a country whose first language wasn’t English, we could still pack out
a stadium with everyone singing our songs. It made me realize, more than
before, that music is a global language and has the power to bridge all kinds
of gaps. That means that we have the power, through our music, to bring people
together and make them forget their differences.”

Shari was forced to turn around to look at Nick as he
spoke. For the first time, she saw a depth in him and his belief in what he did
as a musician that he had not shown before. She needed to find about more about
this aspect of him. This Nick Badley and the one he had revealed the day
before, did not fit the image that she had anticipated. Had she been a little
hasty in judging him as a typical rock star?

Giving her conscience a wide berth, she quickly raced
through her brain for another question to ask.

“And what is the worst memory that you have?”

“I can’t think of any really bad memories,” Steve said.

“Me neither. We’ve been lucky. Knock wood.”

“So tell me, what kind of gigs you guys did before you
became famous? And how did you know when you had become famous?”

Shari enjoyed listening as Nick and Steve reminisced
about some of the places they had played, sometimes making her crack up with
their stories.

“How did we know when we had become famous?” Nick
repeated, coming back to her question. They paused for a while and thought
about it.  Then he continued: “For me, I guess it was the first time I walked
down a street in New York and someone came up to me and said ‘Hey, you’re Nick
Badley’. I figure that if you’re recognized in New York City, and someone
actually stops to tell you so, then you must be famous,” he laughed.

“I’m still not famous,” Steve laughed, “and I like it
that way.”

Shari spent another half hour chatting with them and she
was pleasantly surprised to find that she enjoyed herself. For some reason, she
was glad to discover that Nick had a true friend in Steve and that there was at
least one person that he could be real with. As she waited for the elevator to
take her back down to the 9th floor, it suddenly dawned on her that he had been
real with her as well.

The
private jet landed at Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport at 10:00 a.m.,
exactly one hour after they had taken off from Kansas City International
Airport. The Kansas City tour had been a whirlwind, with them flying in from
Denver in the evening and practically walking onto the stage for another sold
out concert at the Landon Arena.  They had hung out backstage afterwards for a
while before heading to their hotel.  No-one had seemed inclined to go out, for
which Shari was glad.  She had managed to get into her bed fairly early for a
change and was up early and ready for the trip to Chicago.

The
short flight from Kansas had been fun, with great camaraderie and teasing
between the band members. Even Tim was on his best behavior and seemed to have
gotten over whatever his issue was with Nick in Las Vegas.

The jet
had soared through a beautiful, clear sky and the good weather, the successful
concerts in Denver and Kansas City plus the bonus that they would stay in
Chicago for three days buoyed everyone’s spirits. Steve was especially excited
because it meant after the concert that night he could fly home for a couple of
days and then meet them in Cincinnati. The mood seemed to be contagious because
Shari began to have a sense of excitement about the documentary and was happy
with how it was shaping up so far. She had even arranged to speak with Tim the
following afternoon.

Lily
had told her that they could easily have sold out the United Center with a
capacity of 20,000, but after such a large concert in Denver with another one
planned for Cincinnati, they had decided on a medium sized venue in Kansas with
seating for 10,000 people followed by an intimate concert in Chicago, if 5000
people could be considered intimate.

Not
even Nick’s whisper in her ear, reminding her that if she wanted to join the
mile high club he was willing to initiate her, could affect her great mood. She
simply swatted him away like a bothersome fly and warned him to behave himself.
His warm breath tickled her ear as he chuckled and said that if she changed her
mind she shouldn’t be shy in letting him know.

Three
limousines met the plane on the tarmac and transported them to The Waldorf
Astoria. Shari was excited. It would be the height of luxury, even if she was
in a standard room, as standard at the Waldorf was anything but. She knew
better than to say anything this time as she didn’t want to deal with any
scathing comments about her liking the high life, although Nick was in his Dr.
Jekyll persona today.

They
reached the hotel in about forty minutes and the limousines drew up along the
curb next to an elegant fountain. A doorman greeted them and welcomed them to
the hotel. Shari fell in love with the lobby with its black and white design
and modern sculptures. She could hardly wait to see her room.

Lily
informed Nick that he and Tim would be sharing the Presidential Suite since there
weren’t enough suites available for everyone to have their own. “It’s over three
thousand square feet, so do you think you guys can get by for a few days?”

“Of
course, Lils,” agreed Tim. “All is well.” Nick wasn’t thrilled but, as Lily
said, they could go three days without running into each other in that suite.

Shari
confirmed with Tim that she would interview him the next day around two in the
afternoon to give him time to recover from the concert that night. She was
secretly looking forward to seeing the Presidential Suite and she was also glad
that Nick would be close by. Tim seemed in high spirits, but there was still
something about him that made her a bit uncomfortable. It was nothing that she
could put her finger on; she was just going by her intuition.

As the limousines skirted the arena and headed for the
back entrance, they could see lines forming already. The gates would open about
an hour and a half before show time, but the band was planning to do a short
rehearsal before then.

Shari was looking forward to this concert since the
smaller crowd was more manageable for her. She knew that Nick was also keen to
perform as he had said that he could connect more personally with the smaller
crowd.

“The crowd seems kind of big already,” Shari commented to
Lily, while the band went ahead to get set up. Brian went with them to get some
footage of how they prepared for a concert.

“I hope they haven’t oversold the arena,” Lily replied.
“That could be disastrous. I know that the guys wanted to play at this smaller
location, but I’m not sure if I’m as happy with this as we would have been at
somewhere like United Center.”

“Because they’ll be performing for a smaller audience?”

“Well, that too. But when there are limited tickets
available there’s the temptation by the venue to oversell to make more money
and then everyone can’t get in and it can get stressful or, worse yet,
dangerous. We’d better get inside before there’s not room for us,” joked Lily,
trying to dispel her concerns.

“OK, that sounds great!” Nick praised as the band ran
through their first song without a hitch.

“Happy that you’re happy, Nick,” joked Tim
good-naturedly.

“Let’s see if we can repeat that with “Moving On”.”

The band ran through the songs that Nick wasn’t happy
with from the last concert a couple of times until he was satisfied. Everyone
was eager to get through this concert and enjoy the few days of downtime they
would have before going on to Cincinnati.

“Let’s crank up the volume a bit and test the speakers.”
This was from one of the sound technicians. “I want someone at the very back to
tell me how the quality is.”

A trainee hustled to the back row of the arena in a
minute.

“OK, guys. Let’s see how much juice we have.”

““Moving On” again and then let’s head to the dressing
rooms,” Nick instructed.

He played the opening bars for “Moving On” and the band
joined in. Adjusting the mike more comfortably around his ear, he began to
sing:

It was good while it lasted

But we never would have made it

It was good while it lasted

But I’m moving on…

The
sound technician waited for the signal from the back. He
saw his trainee gesture with his hand to pump up the volume a bit more and
pushed the controls up further until he got the thumbs-up sign. 

Outside the arena

It was good while it lasted

But we never would have made it

It was good while it lasted

But I’m moving on…

“That’s “Moving On”! Is the concert starting already?” someone
asked.

“They’re probably just practicing,” someone answered.

“When are they opening the gates?”

“Gates! Gates!” The crowd started chanting.

Inside the booths, the ticket takers were beginning to
feel a bit nervous. There was still half hour to opening and the crowd was
beginning to get impatient. One called the manager and asked whether they
should open early and was told that they shouldn’t as yet since the band was
still on the stage rehearsing.

They managed to announce via the PA system that the gates
would soon be open. That quieted the crowd for a while.

Half hour later the gates were opened and the lines
started to move through the gates quickly and orderly. General admission
tickets had been sold since the venue could only hold a small number and it was
expected that the crowd would be orderly.

Almost an hour later a message came from inside the arena
to the ticket takers that they were full. The arena had been oversold.

“What do you mean full? It looks like we’ve got another
thousand people out here.”

“Well, there’s no more space!”

“But they have tickets!”

“Get security to close the gates.”

The security team began to close the gates, telling the
fans at the front that there was no more space inside.

“What do you mean ‘no more space’? I have a ticket and I
paid a hundred bucks for it.”

Suddenly there was a surge from behind as frantic fans
saw the gates closing. Those in front were forced against the gates which
crashed back under the force. One security guard could not get out of the way
in time and fell under the storming feet. The surge continued and anyone who
lost their footing went down and the momentum pushed people over them.

The police who were patrolling finally realized what was
going on and swarmed over to push back the crowds. They were able to close the
gates and bring order back to the situation. About two hundred extra people had
gotten through the gates. Once the situation was under control, they discovered
that three people, including the security guard, had been crushed to death and
several others were injured. Ambulances were quickly called to take the injured
ones to the nearest hospital. For the others, it was too late.

Inside the arena, Nick and the band were queued to go
onstage, oblivious of the tragedy that had taken place at the gates.

Backstage

Brad’s phone rang. He almost ignored it, wondering who
could be calling him minutes before the show. Who called a band’s manager just
before a show was due to start?

“Yeah?” He barked into the phone impatiently. It was the
manager of the arena.

“What? What happened? … My God! How many? … Oh no. Oh no.
Should we cancel the show? … Yes, yes, you’re right. The last thing we want is
a riot as well. I won’t tell them anything until afterwards. OK, thanks. We’ll
talk later.”

He sank down on the nearest chair with his head in his
hands. Lily and Shari found him there a few minutes later as they were heading
to the stage to watch the concert from the wings this time.

“What’s up, Brad? You look like you have the world on
your shoulders,” teased Lily.

“I feel like I do, Lil. You’re not going to believe
this.” He rubbed his hands over his face and turned to look at them. “I just
got word that three people were killed when the crowd rushed the gate before
the concert.”

“What? When? How?” Lily spluttered, turning pale.

“But the band is playing,” added Shari in disbelief.

“They don’t know yet. I only just found out and we’ve
decided to let the show go on. I’ll tell them afterwards. The police are
carrying out their investigations now.”

Shari sank to the floor next to his chair as her legs
suddenly lost their strength. Her heart literally hurt for the people who were
killed and injured, but also for Nick. How would he deal with this?

“Great job, guys!” Nick shared high fives all around as the
band headed into the wings.

Backstage was like a ghost town. Where it was usually
bustling with activity, there was an eerie quiet as the guys headed for their
dressing rooms.

“Where the hell is everyone?” Tim asked, looking around.
“Back here is like a morgue.”

They all came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Brad and
Lily standing in the hallway outside the dressing rooms. Brad looked disheveled
as if he’d been running his hands through his hair. Lily looked pale and
distraught. Shari was standing off to the side as if she didn’t quite know if
she should be there or not. Nick’s eyes sought hers and in a split second noted
that they were red as if she’d been crying and dread began to churn in his
belly, making him feel sick to his bones.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded, not really
wanting to hear the answer.

“I’m afraid we’ve got some really bad news.” Brad paused.
“We think the venue oversold tickets and there was a rush on the gate before
the concert. Three people lost their lives and several were injured.”

There was a stunned silence.

“What the hell! And we just played as if nothing
happened? This is like the Who concert in Cincinnati all over again!” This was
from the base player, who was usually fairly quiet.

“We couldn’t cancel. That may have caused a riot. We’re
going to go to lockdown on this for the time being so I need all of you to get
your stuff. We’re heading back to the hotel. No one goes out and no one comes
in.”

Nick looked stunned. Shari felt helpless as she watched
him stumble towards his dressing room as if his feet were too heavy to lift.
She wanted to go and comfort him, but it seemed too intimate, considering that
she barely knew him. Instead, she prayed that he wouldn’t begin to blame
himself.

The drive back to the hotel was silent as each person
grappled with the tragedy of the evening. Shari chanced a glance at Nick and
found him lying back against the seat with his eyes closed. The agony on his
face reflected the thoughts that plagued him.  Her heart ached for him as she
realized that he had no one to share this tragedy with. Steve would no doubt
call home and talk to his wife; even Tim could call his, but Nick had no one.
Well, he could call his parents, but it wasn’t quite the same.

As they headed for the elevators, flanked by the
entourage of bodyguards, Shari couldn’t help but notice the accusing stares
that the group received. The news had no doubt hit the streets that the band
had performed even as people lay dead and injured outside their concert.

“Shari.” She looked at Tim in surprise. “Since we’re
grounded tonight, do you want to get the interview out of the way? I’m thinking
to go home tomorrow.”

She looked at her watch. It was only 10:30, not that
late, compared to the hours she’d been keeping lately. “Are you sure you’re up
to it?”