Chapter eight
Daniel
I widen my eyes and I feel my body boil up. I don't think I've ever felt so angry. I'm going to go up on this fucking stage and get her out of there, even if by force , the thought crosses my mind. Adding on to the anger, I feel a little confused, even angry at myself for being attracted to someone I should protect, that I should never look at with the eyes of desire.
However, in the midst of that whirlwind of feelings within me, I push all of it away and continue to focus on the fact that Julie is on stage, singing with the most womanizing guy I know after me, displaying curves that I didn't even know existed. Has she always had these legs?
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Focus, Daniel, keep focused. That's what I tell myself as I start moving towards the stage. I just barely get a chance to take three steps when Rafe approaches me and pulls me by the arm in the backstage.
"Man, easy...”
"Easy bullshit!” I lose it. "What's Julie doing with that tiny outfit on stage? For fuck’s sake , Rafe! I said time and again that I don't want her to sing here. I think it's better you get this girl out of there before I take her off myself, and if I do, it's not going to be pretty!”, I say, running my hand on the head.
I'm so stunned, I don't even know what to think. Or what I'm going to do to Julie when I get her off that stage.
"Daniel...”
“I don't care. I want her out of there now!”
I wipe the hands on my hair, again in frustration, disheveling everything.
Rafe's tone of voice becomes harsh. More than I've ever heard before. I look at him gazing me, seriously.
"Daniel, don't be childish. The house is full and we have, for the first time, a critic of the Los Angeles Times in the audience. Put your head in place. I'm not interrupting the show. And neither are you.” He warns, pointing his finger at me. His composure makes me angrier. Me, Rafe and Zach are very different from one another, and maybe that's why our partnership works so well. While I'm temperamental, foul-mouthed and impulsive, Rafe is a well of tranquility and maturity. While Zach is relaxed and fun, as well as having a boundless patience for all things.
I walk back and forth like a caged lion. When I get my hands on her... , I think, but then, comes to mind the image of her singing, her eyes closed, and I feel excited again. Oh, shit! I shake my head. This is Julie, remember? Your little sister. Forget that shit, I tell myself, but it doesn't seem to do any good.
You know this jealousy of yours has nothing to do with her being your “little sister”. Because she's not. Deep down, you never stopped wanting to have her all for yourself.
This powerful thought hits me like a punch in the stomach and I feel panting, torn between desire and a protective sense. No , I tell myself. No, one more time, as I push those thoughts away from me.
"Daniel, have a drink and calm down.” George shows up I don't know where from and pushes a glass of whiskey towards me. I take the glass out of his hand and down it, feeling the liquid burn down my throat.
After swallowing the drink, I turn to Rafe, who's still around.
"Rafe, I want her off stage in 15 minutes, with or without the critic. I'm really pissed. You had no right...”
"I own the bar as you do”, he speaks without raising his voice, but the brightness in his gaze is of someone as angry as I am. Even if it's for another reason. "If you or Zach had answered the fucking phone when Snash dropped everything, I would have talked to you guys. But, no. You only cared about the fucking expansion, and didn't give a damn.”
When I hear Rafe start cursing, I try to control myself, because I know he's reaching the limit. And he's the last person I want to fight.
I walk a few more times down the hall, but George holds me by the shoulders and pushes me towards a chair until I sit down.
"Danny, sit here," he speaks softly, as if he was making a suggestion and not having pushed me into the chair yet. "Take a deep breath. My dear, that way, you're going to have a heart attack. And you haven’t made it to your thirties yet. I'm glad no customer comes in here or they'd be scared. Your hair is so messy it seems like it's been through a hurricane.”
George gets down and I look into his blue eyes, which seem full of goodness as he faces me. I sigh, feeling lost.
"George, how did you let this happen?" I ask him, and I lower my head, leaning it on my hands.
"This is her dream.”
“Dream? Showing the body off in a short, tight dress on top of a damn stage?” I burst, saying the first thing that crosses my mind.
George rolls his eyes and looks at me like he's talking to a child.
"Are you upset about her singing or because she's wearing a short dress? " he asks and I snitch with anger. "She's a beautiful woman, Daniel. She deserves to wear clothes that flatter her. Besides, Julie's not a girl anymore. She’s a woman. A grown woman.”
When I hear him say that, I recall once more what I felt when I came in the bar and saw her. I don't know what bothers me the most: her singing, her short clothes or the reaction I had.
"Moreover," George goes on, pushing me away from my thoughts, "your sexist thinking is totally out of fashion.”
I frown at him, angrier than before.
"I'm not sexist!” I protest and George laughs.
"Oh, really? And this talk that she can't do what she wants, or wear the clothes she wants is what?”
My head spins with so much information and accusations. I'm not sexist. I'm just taking care of her...Right?
You just want her for yourself , that little voice deep down grows, exposing truths I don't want to face.
I see some movement in front of me. It's Rafe, who's going to the stage to announce the break. The band comes through the curtains that keep the stage apart from the backstage, while laughing and talking. Then out comes that fool Alan holding the hand of my wom...sis...Oh,shit. Julie's hand.
I get up from my chair and go towards both of them as if I'm possessed. When Julie realizes my presence, she widens those beautiful blue eyes. Alan tries to hide her behind him, but all I can think about is getting her away from this asshole.
"JULIETTE, MY OFFICE, NOW!” I scream without waiting for an answer. I hold her arm and drag her along.
I drive her into the room and shut the door hard. I'm very angry and, at the same time, desperate.
"What the fuck, Julie. Didn’t I tell you that I wouldn’t allow you to sing here?”
“Daniel!” she complains, raising her voice and crossing her arms. This is the first time she stands up to me like this. “You’re not being reasonable. I’m no longer 15 years old for you to order me around. I’m an adult now. A woman.”
I can’t deny that her attitude excites me. Her words knock me over like a brick hitting my head. As a consequence I am overcome by a whirlwind of feelings I have never felt. I just don’t know how to handle it. I don't know what this woman who blossomed before my eyes in the blink of an eye does to me. I can't hear her voice as it makes me feel possessed by desire. As her eyes fire up with irritation and her skin is flushed by rage, I don't see anything in front of me anymore. I’m driven by the maddening desire. Something I've never felt for anyone. I didn't even know one could feel like this.
The ability to reason abandons me. I just walk across the room and push her against the door. Her perfume takes over my senses. All I want is to taste her mouth and make her moan in my ear. Which is exactly what she does.
"Dan...”
I kiss her hard, swallowing whatever she was about to say. She folds her arms around my neck, pulling me closer. My hands seem to have a will of their own and run through her body as we kiss wildly.
I don't think about anything but having her naked body glued to mine. I grab her hair tightly without moving our mouths away, while my right hand finds the hem of the short dress. She crams her body, making it easier for me to lift the skirt. My hand finds very small panties. My fingers go over the piece and feel the evidence of her excitement. Reason left me a long time ago. All I was left with was desire. Pure, raw and intense. I move away the hand that was holding her hair and, with both hands, I tear the panties away from my goal. I throw what's left to the floor and my fingers go between her thighs.
She's surprised and gives me such an excited look that I can't stop myself. I can't stop at all. I raise her body against the door, leaning on mine. She wraps her legs around my waist and I start exploring her intimacy with the fingertips.
I penetrate her with just a finger. She moans in my ear. I shove one more, pressing the clitoris with my thumb.
"You're so wet," I speak, pulling her for a kiss. At this point, my dick begs to join her.
Julie pushes her body against my hand. I keep up the pace and feel her stiffen and pant. My fingers gain pace coming in and out. She moans louder, muttering my name as the orgasm hits her hard.
"Ohhh... Danny!
When I hear my name come out of her lips, I feel like I'm breaking into a thousand pieces. And then all I can think about is, what the hell did I do?
I move my fingers out and put her back on the floor. She looks at me, still panting from the climax, with her eyes clouded with delight. At the same time, she seems confused. I lower down her dress quickly, before courage abandons me, and I walk away without being able to face her eyes.
What the hell did I do?
“Danny?”
I hear someone knocking on the door. It’s Rafe calling from the other side.
“Daniel, let Julie out. She needs to go back to sing. The customers are getting restless and the critic from the LA Times is still around.”
I remain turned on my back and feeling devastated but still excited and wanting more, at the same time.
What the hell did I do?
“Danny?” Julie calls me again, with a trembling voice, and I feel even more miserable for frightening her like this.
“Go Julie. Just go back to the stage.”
“Danny, but...”
“Go, Julie!” I speak louder, enraged at myself for letting her go back there, where every single guy present is going to wish to do the same as me.
I put my hand on my head, once again thinking: what the hell did I do?
I hear her take a deep breath and it’s like she was searching for her inner strength to reply to me:
“That’s fine, I’m going back to the stage. But we need to talk about this. I’m not gonna let go of singing just because you don’t want it. Enough of that. If not here, I will do it somewhere else.”, she warns and I feel desperate just by imagining her singing somewhere else where I may not be close by to hear her.
I hear the door opening and slammed shut. I look back, but she’s gone. Confusion, desire, fear and anger at myself take a hold on me. I stay alone in the room, with her maddening perfume and the torn panties on the floor. I lean down and grab the lace lingerie.
I go to the counter by my table and open the bottle of whiskey. I fill a glass and down it at once, trying to be ready for what lies ahead.
I look at the torn panties in my hand and persuade myself that I must learn to think rather more with my head than my dick.
***
Julie
I get out of Daniel’s office slamming the door shut as if a thousand demons were chasing me. I push Rafe out of the way and go straight to the women’s restroom, praying that it’s empty. I don’t quite know how, but after what happened in that office, my practical side takes over, and all I can think about is to look at myself in the mirror and see if I can fix the damage.
I get into the rest room and lock the door. As I look at myself in the mirror, I get a fright. My hair is all over the show. The lipstick is gone and my mouth, face and neck are red.
Traces of Daniel’s kisses.
I don’t wanna think about any of that right now or I won’t be able to go back on stage. And I’m going back, no matter what he wants.
I hear a knock on the door and George’s voice calls my name.
“Julie, my dear, may I come in?”
I open the door for him and he looks me up and down.
“I need a brush. And make-up.”
He raises his magic case.
“It was in my car. Thank goodness,” he says, with a tender smile.
I nod in agreement while he pushes me to a chair and starts fixing my hair.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“No.”
“All right. Are you going back on stage?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to carry on with one-word replies and just leave me out in the cold?”
“George, I’m shaking in anger, feeling like punching someone, disheveled, scratched and without my panties. I guess I have the right to be left alone, don’t I?”
“Oh. My God!” George exclaims, dumbfounded. Frozen. The times I saw him speechless were few and far between. He remains for about 10 seconds in that catatonic state until he comes to his senses, shaking his head and gets back to fixing my hair. I try to take my mind elsewhere, muttering the next song for today, but my body doesn’t stop shaking and it’s increasingly difficult to keep focused. George realizes it and takes control of the situation. He reaches the door and calls Rafe.
“Is she coming back?” he asks George.
“Yes. I just need a few minutes, a tequila shot and a hot coffee.” If Rafe finds the request strange, he certainly doesn’t show it.
“What’s the tequila for?” I ask, when he returns to carry on fixing me.
“For you to stop shaking.”
“And the coffee?”
“For you to take after the tequila to stop you from getting drunk while you sing.”
George gets back to his task at hand. A knock on the door stops us. He opens the door and finds Rafe with the requested drinks.
“Thanks. Just a few minutes longer and she will be back.”
Rafe nods in agreement and George returns, handing me the tequila. I drink it one time and it comes down burning.
“Shit.”
“Let it come down while I finish your hair.” He tries to fix the pigeon nest my hair has turned into. Slowly, my body starts relaxing and I stop shaking. So he positions himself in front of me and quickly retouches my make-up. Before applying the lipstick, he gives me the coffee cup. When I start drinking, he kneels down to match my eyes height and speaks:
“My girl, now is the time to turn it on.” His tone is unwavering, like a coach directing his team during the final minutes of a game. “I don’t know what happened in that room, and I’m not gonna force you to talk. I will wait until you feel comfortable to tell me, but I can imagine. You’re gonna go out of this restroom now, as dignified as ever, and you’re gonna go up on that stage and sing beautifully, as if your life depended on it. You’re gonna dance and flirt with Alan, the Hot Guy. As soon as the show is over, you go home, without muttering a word to Daniel. You will go to sleep and rest, because in the morning we shall have an emergency meeting at your place to prepare a plan of action.”
“George, what are you talking about?” I ask, perplexed. Kiss and make out with Daniel, tequila, plan of action. It’s all too much for me to handle right now.
“We’re gonna make that man eat from your hand. Or my name is not George Preston.”
***
I follow my best friend’s instructions and get out of the restroom walking steady on my way to the stage. When I’m almost there, Alan intercepts me, catching me by surprise.
“Prett...”
“Alan, not now please.”
“Are you all right?” he asks, sounding really worried.
“I am. But I don’t wanna talk. I just wanna focus so I can sing.”
“Right. If you need anything, no matter what, you know I’m here, right?”
“Yes I do, thanks.” I pull away from him, returning to the stage and mentally calculating where I should place myself so that the audience wouldn’t see what it shouldn’t below my dress, since that, whose name I don’t wanna pronounce, torn my new panties .
The band goes on stage behind me, and we restart singing. I look around the room and find him, leaning on the counter, with his eyes on me. I look away, remembering that we have a critic to see me from the LA Times in the audience, and I try to keep focused, knowing how critical this can be for my career which is just taking off.
The show goes on, I sing and dance with Alan throughout various songs. The audience cheer and dance with us, singing along through most of the songs.
The show approaches the end and we agree to close with a duet. The chosen song was Need You Now by Lady Antebellum. Alan and I sing facing each other, praising all the emotion that song deserves.
I look away from Alan and, automatically, end up looking at Danny. He seems upset again as he sees the seductive mood on stage. I shrug it off and carry on singing. I close my eyes and the view of the wild man that took me against the office door comes to my mind once again. He frightens and excites me at the same time. I think I’m going mad. That’s it.
The music is coming to an end. Alan releases the guitar, hanging from his shoulder, and encourages the audience to sing and clap their hands. I look at him and smile, excited with everybody’s participation.
The last line of the song comes with a surprise: he holds my hand, pulls me closer, leaning me against his arms, as if I was one of those Disney princesses being kissed by the charming prince...or should I say big bad wolf. Alan looks me in the eye and whispers with his lips real close to mine:
“I said today you would be mine.”
