8
This was Rick’s first award show, and he hoped it would also be the last.
He was under the impression that this was a poorly planned event. Stage assistants ran around the dressing room area, nobody paid attention, and it seemed that everybody was in some sort of panic. It was forty-five minutes until they were live on national TV. Why wasn’t anyone in their places? Where was the first presenter? Why was the biggest guest of the evening throwing a fit in one of the main dressing rooms? Why am I stuck here with nobody to talk to? Thomas was out tracking down someone to ask a question. Not that Rick really cared. He was still adjusting to the idea that his father had been with them all along. They both made a concerted effort to not let this change their professional relationship, but how could it not?
Rick was left in a tiny dressing room, already wearing his outfit for the evening. He wasn’t nominated for anything that year, but he was expected to be ready to go out and perform sometime over the next two hours. The sound check earlier that day hardly felt like the rush he got while on tour. He had a lot to express on the tour. One night on an award show? Not so much.
His makeup was done and his hair styled the way people wanted it. Then they left him to his own devices, and all he had to entertain himself with was a cell phone that got spotty reception backstage. He could barely text his girlfriend, let alone surf the web.
Suffice to say, he wasn’t expecting a special visitor a half hour before the show began.
“Rick?” Fiona stood in the doorway, a guest pass hanging around her neck and resting on top of her protruding stomach. How did she get in here? Thomas. Whatever magic his manager worked, Rick couldn’t decide if he was grateful or not. He rarely saw Fiona wearing baggy clothes, let alone patting her stomach with her fingertips. She waddled farther into the room and closed the door behind her. “Sorry for interrupting you. They said now is better than later.”
“No, it’s fine.” Rick turned in his seat. “You look… pregnant.”
“That I am.” She didn’t smile, but Rick could see a gleam in her eyes. “I won’t be dancing soon. At least I know how to get rid of this weight afterward, I guess.” She took in a deep breath before Rick had the chance to say something. “I’m here because my boyfriend is a backup dancer for one of the other artists. I always wanted to come to one of these things.”
“Your boyfriend?”
Fiona nodded. “The other guy I was telling you about.”
“I see.” What was Rick supposed to say? Congratulate her? “It’s nice seeing you so well.”
“I’m back here because I got the results of the paternity test back.”
Rick braced himself for the news. After not hearing from Fiona for a couple of weeks, he thought about calling her to discover whether or not the results were back yet. “And?”
Fiona shrugged. “You’re not the father. My boyfriend is.”
Rick neither heaved a sigh of relief nor frowned. Either one was inappropriate in front of this pregnant woman, and honestly he didn’t know how he felt about the news. He was prepared for either answer. If he were the father, then he would have to be ready to make some concessions in his life. A part of him even looked forward to it. While having a child at this point in his life and career was definitely not ideal, he had to admit that he was kind of disappointed. Maybe next time. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too soon. Rick would like to clear thirty before starting to think about children. “Thanks for letting me know. I wish you all the best of luck… and if you need anything, ask.”
“Maybe I’ll dance on stage with you again one day. Until then, I guess you have Olivia to keep you company. Are you still seeing her?”
“Yeah. Hopefully she’ll come tonight.”
“I hope you can be happy with her.”
Rick smiled. “Me too.”
Fiona had to leave after that, and another woman came by to inform Rick that he had to move to another room to wait for his turn on stage. He asked her if Olivia had shown up yet. After an uninspiring no, he got up and followed the woman to the other room. I hope she shows up soon. Rick had plans for the woman who wouldn’t leave his thoughts alone.
***
Olivia showed up at the appropriate time, but finding her way around the cavernous auditorium without anyone to show her the way was more obnoxious than anything. Every time she showed up in some dark corner, there was a security guard ready to check her credentials. Was she the press? A photographer? A stagehand who didn’t wear the right clothes that day? Or, ew, a groupie? Olivia gave her name and showed her ID at all of these places, but it wasn’t until some kind and understanding soul with a clipboard showed her the right line that she finally got her pass that said she was a special guest of a talent.
There was a waiting area the guests had to stay in. She didn’t recognize any of these people, but she didn’t know if it was because she didn’t know her famous faces or because these other people really were nobodies like her. Wives, older children, even mothers… there was one best friend of some female artist that looked about as lost as Olivia, and they commiserated over (sadly, not spiked) punch and Vanilla Wafers.
“Who are you here to see?” the girl, a college-aged student named Emma, asked.
“Well…” What a quandary. Rick still wasn’t public with Olivia being his girlfriend. He had other things to worry about, such as his father. Oh, and his work.
“You’re here to see Rick Rodriguez, right?’
A few others in the room side-glanced them, but had the propriety to not outright stare while they waited for Olivia’s answer.
“I’m a rather big fan of his… I recognize you from that music video. Also, I went to the Los Angeles concert. You were in that too, right?”
“Sure…”
Emma smiled, probably because she was proud of herself for getting it right. “Lucky! Well, I won’t ask any more about that. You better go find out about seeing him soon, though. I think he’s one of the first to perform.”
That was Olivia’s first time hearing about that, so she approached the clipboard-wielder standing by the door and asked if it was okay to go see Rick yet.
“Are you nuts?” he asked, wagging his pen in Olivia’s direction. “He’s on standby to go on stage. They moved him up because another artist dropped out at the last minute. We can take you backstage to watch, but that’s it. You’ll have to wait to see him until after.”
“Then take me backstage!”
What a mess. Olivia didn’t doubt that award shows were a lot more stressful to run than one of the shows she did with Rick, where things were rarely changed and most of the people knew what to expect after opening night, but that didn’t change the fact things were so messy that Olivia’s mother could steamroll through going on the biggest tirade about cleanliness and responsibility that everyone in Hollywood, New York, and even Nashville would feel ashamed.
Olivia was left to wait backstage, just to the side and out of the way. Dancers hustled on and off the stage; a man she recognized from a music show sauntered out in a suit to roaring applause; the lights changed colors and flashed every time the tempo in a song changed. It reminded Olivia of the tour, yet more glamorous. More fancy clothes and more pomp and circumstance. The host was a comedian known for harassing music artists good naturedly in his routines. When he got ready to announce Rick’s performance, he said, “This guy has more hip thrusts breaking than Michael Jackson in a nursing home.” The crowd laughed, uneasily, and Olivia wanted to die on Rick’s behalf.
She expected to see at least a few dancers take the stage, but all she saw was Rick standing by himself center stage, holding an acoustic guitar. In his leather jacket and jeans he looked cool enough to start up a modernized rendition of a John Denver song, and nobody would get the irony.
A man next to Olivia cued Rick when the cameras were ready for him to begin. After a curt nod Rick began to play the opening chords to “Midnight Tango,” his most famous song thus far and the one that had more sentimentality in Olivia’s heart than anything else. That’s like… our song! It was silly to think of it that way, but when Rick sang the first line, his voice smooth and deep, Olivia almost convinced herself that this was the best song in the world.
Olivia was content with an acoustic performance of her boyfriend’s big song. Who knew what the crowd wanted… probably dancing. That was Rick’s bread and butter. Hot songs and a lot of dancing. He was proving that host wrong about the pelvic thrusts. Not that Olivia didn’t want to see some of that… but she had a feeling her appreciation of the way Rick moved his hips was completely different from everyone watching at home.
A man dressed in all black sneaked onto stage. Olivia knew those types. He was meant to not be seen, to hang to the side of the camera as he assisted with stage movements. What was he doing? All there was on stage was a single man and his guitar.
Okay, so maybe not a guitar anymore. The stagehand yanked the guitar out of Rick’s hand at the end of the bridge, scuttling backstage with it as the original backing track to the song erupted on stage and Rick leaped back to do what he did best.
Olivia should have seen it coming. Rick was the kind of guy always full of surprises, especially when it came to entertaining audiences. Plus, these award shows loved their bait and switches. Who would actually believe that a total showoff like Rick Rodriguez would be content standing on stage with nothing but a guitar for more than five minutes? Olivia was the last one to believe that!
She rarely had the opportunity to watch Rick like this. She was used to waiting in the wings for her cue to go onstage, or dancing alongside one of the biggest names in the industry. Few were the times Olivia had to simply relax and watch her boyfriend dance like his mother and all those colorful characters coming through the studio taught him.
The one thing she could have never expected, however, was the part during the break where Rick rushed to the side of the stage and grabbed her hand.
What was this? Where did he think they were? He couldn’t haul any woman he wanted onto the stage! Even if she had a guest pass and was standing right there off to the side! What makes this guy so unpredictable? Not that Olivia had much time to contemplate that… her brain was too focused on the cheering audience and the cameras turning in their direction, multiple stage hands having heart attacks while the suits upstairs started crossing Rick off their list of approved guests in the future.
“What are you doing?’ Olivia asked, which was luckily not picked up by his mic. Rick hauled her to the middle of the stage, his hand wrapped around hers, and his face mouthing that she should be ready for her cue.
Cue? What freakin’ cue!
Olivia needed to go home and thank the stars that she knew Rick so well by now. On stage, at least. When he put his hand on her upper arm and wrapped the other around her torso, she knew what kind of mischief was afoot. He wants me to dance with him? José’s choreography for “Midnight Tango” was still fresh in Olivia’s mind. Weeks of practices, performances, and watching playback videos meant that routine was stuck in her mind for the rest of her life. So when Rick embraced her like he always did during the song’s break, Olivia followed through with embracing him back, letting the passion of the tango that swept them away so many months ago claim her again now.
The crowd clapped to the beat, going along with the change in plans even if people dressed in black amassed on either side of the stage. Olivia’s guest pass smacked her in the face when Rick unexpectedly dipped her over his knee. This time Olivia’s laughter was caught on his mic.
They only had a minute to enjoy on stage, but the hot lights, the privacy of the empty stage, and the blinking cameras felt like a great exhibition of their blooming young love. Olivia clutched Rick’s shoulders and leaped into the lift at the end of the song, her adrenaline pounding so hard that she thought she would burst.
She did. She burst when the final chords disappeared into the air, Rick’s lips landing on hers.
Somewhere, Olivia’s little sister was probably shouting at their TV so hard that the nearest camera couldn’t help but break.