“Fame brings out the worst in everyone, including myself.” ~Johnny Outlaw
What am I thinking? Why did I stop? Fight your instincts and move forward like you didn’t hear your name roll of his slick tongue like honey. Go. This is the last chance to save your heart.
Closing my eyes, I drop my head down, willing my feet to move, but my heart’s desire is too strong.
He’s so close. I can smell him, reminding me of this afternoon. “Look at me, Holliday.” I turn, lifting my head and opening my eyes, meeting his. His hands are close, so close to touching me, but he pulls back. “What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I came to see a concert,” I say, looking around at the people passing by and staring at us, at him.
He turns his back to them and moves closer. “Can we talk about this privately?”
“Holli? You okay out here?” I look to my left and see Jack from dinner standing there looking pensive, his tone stern.
Dalton eyes him, probably sizing him up. In the meantime, Cara steps forward and introduces herself, “I’m Cara Leeds. I’d love to talk about marketing opportunities over dinner sometime.”
My mouth is wide open until Tracy whispers, “She’s a shark.”
“Johnny, Dex sent me to get you,” some sleazy woman with fake everything says while trying to pose provocatively against the door that leads backstage. “We’re waiting for you.”
Dalton doesn’t acknowledge them, fully focused on me. “Please,’ he asks, “can we talk?”
Glancing at Tracy, she slowly nods. She’s the only one I trust here, so I take a deep breath then sigh when I release it. “Fine.”
Abruptly, he turns and I begin to follow him. “I’ll be back. Wait for me,” I whisper to Tracy over my shoulder.
Cara steps forward and asks, “Can we come?”
But Tracy handles her. “They want privacy.”
Dalton leads me down a side corridor to a door that blends in with the wall, no doorknob. He hits it twice with his fist and it opens. A very large man eyes us and then signals us in, moving out of the way to let us pass. We take a right and then the first left into a room with a paper sign taped to the door that reads ‘Johnny Outlaw.’
“You’re Johnny Outlaw,” I read aloud, astonished, the sign finally solidifying the information. “You’re a rock star.”
He stops in the middle of the room and looks me straight in the eyes. “I’m more than that, Holliday,” he says, putting his arms out to the side. “I’m also Jack Dalton.”
“Hardly.”
“I didn’t lie to you. I am Jack Dalton. That’s my real name.”
“This is an age old quandary. Is leaving information out lying or just a simple omission? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I liked you. I liked that you didn’t know. You didn’t recognize me and you didn’t question.”
“Guess I should have but asking someone if they’re famous isn’t usually on the first date agenda.”
“That’s my point. You liked me for me, the real me, not the stage me. Don’t be mad.”
My voice automatically rises because he doesn’t seem to understand how stupid I feel. “I’m upset because as much as you think you gave me the real you, you didn’t. You kind of left out a major detail.”
When he comes toward me, I take a few steps back. I don’t want to be sweet talked into giving in. I have a feeling that tactic works way too often for him.
“I trusted you,” he says, his voice quieter. “I told you things—”
“You told me you were from Texas. The damn tattoo can tell me that. You gave me nothing authentic.”
He looks down. “That’s not true.”
When he looks up again, I say, “It is. It’s truer than the few moments of intimacy we shared. The sex was good, but now I doubt the sincerity behind it. Did you think I would tell the world about you? Was that why you pulled away from me last night? You made me expose more of myself than I normally would and in the end, for what? A fucking hookup on vacation? You protected yourself and your image, but left me here to feel like a complete fool. I’m so stupid I didn’t know and you let me feel that way to save your great Johnny Outlaw’s imag—”
“That’s not true. I never thought you’d talk to the press. Fuck! Why are you making this so hard? Why am I apologizing to you like I did something wrong?”
“Because you did,” I say, stomping my foot in frustration. “And if you don’t see it then there’s no point in us continuing this conversation.” I turn and open the door to leave.
He grabs my arm suddenly, surprising me. When I turn back to him, he says, “You’re ungrateful when you should feel special.” Anger tinges his eyes, a flame flickering in his irises. “You had sex with Johnny Outlaw. You know how many women would trade places with you?”
I yank my arm free and step out the door. With one last look back, I say, “Having sex with a rock star doesn’t make me special. It makes me a groupie.” I slam the door and walk away. Something hits the back of the door and breaks as I walk back toward the big guy on guard. “Open it.” All my niceties have been used up today.
The door opens but closes just as quickly behind me, leaving me standing in the middle of a group of girls begging for entrance into the great Johnny Outlaw’s dressing room. I lift my chin and work my way through the groupies. Groupies. Ugh.
I’m not worried about Dalton coming after me. He didn’t last night and now he has his idolizing fans to entertain him.
Tracy rushes to my side, Cara flanking my other. “What happened?” Cara sounds edgy, realizing she has no chance of hanging out with the band. “You have something against famous, hot rock stars? They’re not your type or what? Because they’re totally mine. Did he mention me?”
“Ha!” I give her an evil eye. “Sorry to disappoint you, but you didn’t come up in conversation.” I stop walking. “And rock stars are what legends are made of, not fairy tales, so I left. Let’s go, Tracy.” I loop my arm around Tracy’s and leave Cara standing there in her disappointment.
Approaching us from ahead, Jack from the restaurant, says, “Maybe I can call you sometime back in L.A.”
“Maybe not. Goodnight.”
We walk forward, our pace quickening. “What happened, Holli?”
“I just want out of here. This was a mistake. I made a huge mistake, Tracy.”
“No, you didn’t. You had fun. Isn’t that what it was all about? Don’t be so hard on yourself. You fell for a hot guy and his lines. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Leaning against the wall, waiting for the elevator, I feel regret sinking in. “I think I might have started falling for him…” I just drop that there between us and wait for her reaction.
“You know Adam and I met at a frat party, but did I ever tell you that we hooked up that first night?”
I stand up when the elevator arrives. “You never told me that before.”
“I was embarrassed for being easy, but what I’ve come to realize is that I wasn’t easy, Adam was just the right guy.”
As we ride up to our floor, I ask, “So you think I just left the right guy for me back there with a pack of the wrong girls?”
“I don’t know if Jack Dalton or Johnny Outlaw is the right or wrong guy for you, but is it such a sin that he didn’t reveal his fame?” We exit and walk to the door. “We need to talk. I think it’s time you heard some hard truths.”
“Can I get comfortable before this gets any heavier?” I walk into the room and start to undress. I slip on a pair of jeans and a soft heather grey T-shirt with my logo on it, finding comfort in my little lime design.
Tracy sits down on her bed, leaning her back against the headboard. “Here’s how I see it. You’re a great catch, Holli. Too great for most men, but you settle on these pricks who on paper seem to fit what you want or need. But they suck.”
“Geez, don’t hold back, Trace.”
“I’m not going to. Not anymore. You need to hear this. Everything about you shouts single girl who doesn’t need anybody. But you do. You do need people, companionship, and more. And guess what? That’s okay. We all do. You’ve just gotten really good at hiding it, even from yourself. I’m not like you. I can’t be alone. I know this about myself. I’m not brave like you.”
“You have Adam, so you don’t have to be brave by yourself. You have a partner to share that responsibility.” Lying back on my pillow, I say, “I don’t like it. I’ve just lived with it for too long.”
“Holli, let me ask you something and I want you to be honest not only with me, but with yourself.”
“Okay.”
“Why are you up here with me when you have a rock star downstairs?”
“How do I answer that?”
“You don’t have to. Just think about it.”
I sit up and look at the bright lights out the window. Twisting my hair into a ponytail, I glance over my shoulder. When I look at her, she asks, “Do you want me to go back downstairs with you?”
“He knows my room number and name. Hell, he knows my address in L.A. The man knows how to contact me if he wants.”
“What do you want to do then?”
I stand up. “I want to wash this heavy makeup off my face.”
“Chicken.”
“Bock. Bock.” I walk into the bathroom and start cleaning my face. When I come back out, Tracy is asleep curled up on the bed. She never could hold her liquor… and I hope she never can. I like her just the way she is.
Picking up my phone from the dresser, I check for messages. Sitting down at the desk, I prop my feet up on the window ledge. I look at the sparkling lights of The Strip, my reflection staring back at me from the glass. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I do keep dating the same type of guys and that’s why it never goes anywhere. But can it really be more than sex with a rock star? I highly doubt that Johnny Outlaw is a relationship type of guy. So why bother? Why set myself up for heartache?
I close my eyes, feeling the weight of the emotions drain my energy. I wake to a double beep and the phone in my hand vibrating. I look down and see a message from Dalton. Third chance a charm? Meet me at the Eiffel Tower restaurant at midnight. I’ll be the one with remorse on my face.
Tracy shuffles. I look over as she’s getting up, and tell her, “He sent me a text.”
She stops and sits back down on the corner of the bed. “He did?”
“He wants to meet me at midnight at the Eiffel Tower Restaurant.”
“What do you think?”
“I’m not gonna go, because if I do, I’ll probably end up forgiving him and wind up in his bed again.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but her face lights up. “Well it’s my last night in Vegas and I haven’t seen the water fountains,” Tracy says. She looks tired, but stands up. “I heard the music is synced to Sinatra. Can’t get more Vegas than that.”
“You don’t want to go to sleep?”
“I got a cat nap. I’m good to go. Wanna go with me?”
Feeling more awake than I should, I say, “I’m always up for an adventure.” I slip on my shoes as she changes clothes.
A ten minute cab ride later, we’re there. We walk down the long descending sidewalk from the hotel and meander along the front of the fountains. The water is dark and unmoving, no big displays of spouting, booming, or dancing water is found. “We missed it,” I say, disappointed because I really needed something wonderful to happen.
“They’ll have another show,” she says, looking at her watch. “But in the meantime, don’t you have a date?” She points across the street at the Eiffel Tower anchoring the Paris Hotel to The Strip.
With a smile and a sideways look, I ask, “I was set-up, wasn’t I?”
She nods, proud of herself. “I’m afraid so. Hope you’re not mad.”
“I’m not mad at you, but it doesn’t change the fact that he lied to me.” The realization sobering as I lean against the cement railing, my fingers holding tight. “I don’t think I can go.”
“I don’t think he lied, Holli. I think you’re looking for reasons to end it. I can tell you like him, but for whatever reason you’ve decided everything that happened between you was built on false pretenses. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. You have a chance to find out and I think you should take it.”
“Third chance a charm,” I repeat his message. I narrow my eyes at her. “Just so you know, I’m kind of hating you right now.”
“I’m good with that. Now go.”
“Fine,” I say, my stubborn side coming out. I’ll go just to spite her because she thinks I’ll chicken out.
“I can stay and wait if you want.”
“No, it’s okay. Thanks.” My mind starts going into overdrive with the possibilities of the pain I’m setting myself up for. What if this is a ruse? What if he doesn’t show? Maybe he’ll change his mind and after what happened, he might be as done with me as I was with him earlier.
Crossing the street, these thoughts make each step heavier, my heart being dragged behind me. While walking up the hotel steps, I consider turning around, knowing it’s not too late to catch Tracy before she leaves. When I look back, she’s gone already. As much as I want to start swearing her name up and down to high Heaven for abandoning me, she accomplished her mission, which was to get me here. The rest is on my shoulders.
Inside, I stick to the edge of the casino floor. I’m nervous and there’s no hiding it as I quickly wipe my hands on my jeans before approaching the hostess. She’s set up behind a podium, guarding the elevator doors that will lead me up to the restaurant. “Hi,” I start, but she cuts me off.
“We’re closed for the evening. If you’d like to make a reservation you can call in the morning. We open tomorrow at eleven.”
“Closed? But…” I want to argue that she must have her facts wrong. Dalton wouldn’t do this to me. Would he? Would he play a sick game like this? “Okay,” I say, “thank you.” Tears sting the corners of my eyes, threatening to fall, so I turn away to leave, hiding my disappointment. And to think that for a moment in time, I almost thought…Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. The restaurant is closed.