2
Nothing prepared Rick for the insanity that was the opening night of his first world tour.
Los Angeles was a great starting point. It was big, it was famous, and it had appeal for everyone in the region to come see him perform. It also was in America, which was important for everyone still waiting for their new passports and visas to come in at the last minute so. What Rick never expected was the deafening roar of over 18,000 fans screaming his name and waving signs when he looked up at the monitor backstage.
He was dressed in his performing best: slick jeans, a thin white T-shirt, and his signature leather jacket that would quickly get too hot under the stadium lights. Who cared? Women loved it when he sweated.
“I can’t believe it’s happening.” Olivia stood beside him, staring at the monitor and the thousands of teens, young adults, and even some older adults filling the seats with their tittering and excited tears. “I never thought the day would come when I’m on a stage like…”
“Don’t do that.” Rick shook his arms out, careful to not smudge the makeup on his cheeks and eyes when he rubbed his nose. Olivia had even more makeup on. Smoky eyes. Body glitter. Lip gloss. Rick only needed enough to not look like a pasty mess. Olivia was contoured like a cliff side. “Don’t psych yourself out, because that’s exactly what you’re doing. Don’t get caught up in how many people are watching. Don’t…” He had to stop. He was starting to psych himself out. “Come on. We got a pre-show prayer to do.”
“A what?”
“Oh, you heard me.”
It was José’s thing. Before every show he gathered the staff into a giant circle and led them in a nice prayer that, as he put it, “Will make sure God intervenes if you decide to fall off the stage, jackass.” Even José was feeling the extra pressure tonight. He had choreographed big tours before, but this was his biggest opening night. Although he would never admit it, José had gone through five sticks of gum in the past two hours trying to settle his nerves. The wrappers poked out of his front pocket.
“Dear Lord,” he began, squeezing Rick’s hand, who in turn held Olivia’s as she was polite enough to close her eyes and smile, “thank you for giving us this opportunity to perform on a stage in front of so many people. Please give us the strength, the energy, and the tenacity to get through this night and all the ones to follow.” One of the other dancers got teary-eyed. This is gonna be a fun night. “And please, if you can find it in you to be so benevolent, don’t let these two over here fuck shit up. Thank you, amen!”
Olivia snapped her eyes open the moment Rick dropped her hand. “Was he talking about us?” she asked her dance partner.
“Uh huh.” Rick clapped his hand on José’s shoulder. “Thanks, bud. I have faith in you too.”
“Standby!” cried one of the stagehands. “Rick! Olivia! To your places!”
There was a mad scramble backstage as everyone said their final good lucks and waited in the proper locations. For Rick, this was on the lift that would take him up to the main stage. Even back there, with the reverberation of equipment, he could hear the throng of fans out in the stadium. They’re here for me. He took a deep breath and caught Olivia’s eye a few yards away. She smiled. Somehow, it made him feel better.
“Ten!’ The same stagehand stood only a few feet behind Rick. “Nine!’ His countdown made Rick’s heart beat faster in his chest. His palms sweated. His throat went dry. He wasn’t the type of man to get stage fright, but that night, when his career was about to hit new heights, he couldn’t help but wonder what the people of his old life would think of this moment.
Hope you’re proud of me, Ma. The lift rose, the countdown all the way to three. When the stage opened above him, he was blinded by the hot lights and deafened by the screams of thousands of people ready to watch him do what he did best.
Rick was of the opinion that concerts went by much faster than anything else in the business. The rush, the energy, the sheer amount of inflated ego that occurred in his mind as he put a mic to his mouth and gyrated from one end of the stage to the other was unlike anything else in life. This is why we live. Some people lived to cure cancer. Others lived to raise families and teach others. Rick? Rick wanted to dance, to sing, to entertain the masses. If he thought his first time performing on a stage years ago was life-changing, then he had no idea what to expect when his whole body shook from the thunderous applause and the bass of the music he wrote. Only with the help of his ear piece was he able to hear his own voice. Otherwise everything was a giant blur of sound.
Naturally Rick was ecstatic because of his current lot in life. He was one of the Western Hemisphere’s hottest acts. He sold more records than almost any other male solo act a year ago. Women threw themselves at him and let him have his wondrous pick. It’s good to be me. Even when he flubbed a lyric and turned the wrong way during a solo dance he was able to salvage the whole act as smoothly as he charmed his fans to begin with.
The best part was what happened whenever he took Olivia by the hand and brought her into his arms.
They had three dances together. The first was for “Midnight Tango,” the third song of the night. This was the song that required the lift at the end – the one that seemed so easy to do now that the both of them were on fire with the crowd’s cheers and the excitement of the night.
Any stage fright Olivia showed was now gone. She jumped right into her moves with the grace and skill of any professional dancer Rick worked with before. Of course she did! She was a pro. Yet every time he caught that cheeky grin on her lips he thought of the day she auditioned to be his #1 partner. That shoe in the face… priceless! There were no shoes flying off her feet tonight. Olivia was on top of her game, hitting every beat and acting like it was nothing when she performed acrobatics that would make most people’s heads spin to even consider.
Just like when Rick spun her in his arms, her body heat passing onto his skin, making him warm up beneath that hot leather jacket and sweat from more than exertion.
The music stopped. His heart stopped. Rick dipped Olivia over his knee at the end of “Midnight Tango” and looked into that glistening, beautiful face, a smile as wide as her heart blossoming on Olivia’s visage. Her chest heaved with every labored breath at the end of such an intense dance. Lights shined in her hair, on her makeup, and most definitely on that bare midriff that became barer the lower he dipped her. The crowd lost themselves to this imaginary romance growing before them.
Except it wasn’t imaginary.
Was it?
Damnit, man, you’re supposed to be performing! He waited so long for this night. Since he was a kid putting his feet on the floor for the first time, Rick fantasized about being a big shot star entertaining anyone who would give him the time of day. Now here he was… fantasizing about a woman!
When they weren’t dancing together, Rick focused on his performance. He could drink up the adoration coming in his direction like it was the fountain of youth. Every time someone screamed his name and waved a sign in his direction, Rick instantly became a day younger.
And then when Olivia came back to perform their next dance, it was like none of that even mattered anymore. Damn her. Rick couldn’t help but wonder if things would be this way had they never done it all those weeks ago. Would Olivia still make him crazy? Part of what killed him was knowing what it was like to make love to that woman. The only woman he ever met who genuinely had more passion for their art than women like Clara and Fiona combined.
The final number gave Rick some time to cool his jets and remember what he was there for. His fans. Those adoring fans who had screamed themselves hoarse and were now throwing things at the stage, much to the chagrin of the security personnel patrolling down front. Rick went to center stage and thanked everyone for coming out that night. He introduced the live band members and each dancer one by one, until finally he reached Olivia, who bowed graciously and received some unique cheers of her own. Even if people didn’t know who she was, they knew that she was special enough to dance with Rick.
There was a quick encore, and then the show was over. When Rick went backstage the final time that night he heaved a large sigh of relief, his body letting fatigue overcome it as he shuffled toward the dressing room where he could change into clean, dry clothes and wait for his ride to the hotel room.
“Great job!” Thomas was in the unlocked doorway, giving his charge the thumbs up before going on his way. José also stopped by to tell Rick he did, “Fine, but we’ll go over what needs to change tomorrow.”
That should have been enough for Rick, who was happy to sink into the couch in the corner of the dressing room and take a quick nap – assuming he could wake up from it. I don’t think I’ve ever been so exhausted.
Someone knocked on the door. Before he could get up and ask them to go away, Fiona was in the dressing room, stopping a foot short of Rick’s couch. “That was fun! What now?”
She draped herself over the back of the couch and patted Rick on the shoulder. “I was gonna take a nap, that’s what,” he mumbled, his body definitely feeling that fatigue now. “Great job out there, by the way.”
“You’re telling me that? Hey, you were the guy singing for over two hours. While dancing. And looking so good doing it.”
Rick sat up, his back now sore enough to send him to a chiropractor. “You do know that half of those songs were prerecorded, right?” It wasn’t Rick’s favorite thing in the world to pull, but everyone on his staff insisted he prerecord the songs he had to dance the most through. The vocals still sounded live, but they let Rick pull off the illusion that he could sing while twirling someone like Olivia without losing a breath. Yeah, right. “Well, thanks anyway.”
“I’m serious.” Fiona shoved her hand between Rick’s body and the couch. What are you up to? Woman, I’m tired. “I’m jealous of that girl you’re dancing with. What is it… Olivia? Yeah, she’s a sweet girl. Talented, too. She’s making me jealous. Getting to spend all that quality time with you. Maybe I should have sprung to be your partner after all.”
“Maybe you should’ve.”
“You know what they say about dance partners who have done it, right?” Fiona’s fingers walked across the width of Rick’s chest. “They say they’re really comfortable with each other and can do almost anything. Wouldn’t that be something?”
“I have in fact heard that.”
Fiona pulled her hand back and stood up, her long brown hair obscuring her face as gravity took its toll on her tired body. “You and that Olivia certainly seem comfortable on stage. You screwin’ her?”
Now Rick sat up, his head turning toward Fiona’s judgmental countenance. “Ain’t that a personal question?”
“Thought I’d ask. I know how you get it hard for your dancers. I mean, I would know.”
“You sound jealous.” Rick flopped back down onto the couch, hands behind his head.
“Hardly. Though I would be lying if I said I hadn’t missed you lately. You know, missed you.”
‘It’s been a while, yup.” Not for a lack of trying on Fiona’s part. “Why? You offering now?” He would be tempted, if he weren’t so tired and looking forward to a hot shower and sleep back in his hotel room. They had to be on the road by seven the next morning, and it was nearing midnight already.
Fiona stood back, her body pivoting toward the door. “Nope. I feel like death right now. Was nauseas this morning and then I had to go out and do all that dancing. I’ll be lucky if I make it home without puking like your friend Clara.”
“Just don’t do it on me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Night, Rick.”
“See ya.”
Rick peeled himself off the couch five minutes later, his bones aching and his muscles about to scream bloody murder. Yeah, he would be feeling that in the morning. Hopefully, though, his body would be ready for Latin America.
He staggered out of the dressing room and fished for his phone so he could text Thomas and tell him to get the van ready. Most of the traveling staff, including the dancers, would be hitching a ride in another company van and act as a decoy for the groupies and reporters hanging out way too late. While they shat themselves over the van they perceived to be containing Rick, he would be making his escape via another route, Thomas behind the wheel and looking like someone’s father as opposed to a body guard.
“Heading out?”
Olivia stood at the end of the hallway, dressed in a different T-shirt but the same pants from the show. Her hair, wet with sweat, was let loose over her chest and grazed that bare midriff in a way that tantalized the last of Rick’s awakened senses. Great. What I need. “Was about to call Thomas to tell him I’m ready to head back. You… want a ride?”
Rick barely knew what he said before it came out of his mouth. He rarely offered rides to his dancers, simply because it could cause a conflict of interest with the rest of his staff. Imagine if Fiona found out I was taking Olivia back. They had separate rooms, but anything could happen in the van. “A ride would be nice,” Olivia said, leaning against the wall. “Would beat cramming myself in the dancer’s van. I have no idea why they think it’s a good idea to put five athletes in a van like that.”
Did she say something? Rick was a bit distracted by that midriff. And that fluffy hair. And that sharp nose and round jaw. I’ve kissed that. I’ve made love to her. Oh, Rick. Ricky boy. What made him think slamming Olivia against a studio wall counted as lovemaking? He shook out his head before his eyes glazed over and he was back in that room, thrusting into her in the past and getting hard between the legs right now. “Uh, yeah…”
“What’s up with you? Too high on the live?”
Rick snapped back to reality, where Olivia had no further interest in him beyond being cordial and good work partners. Okay, but she really had a good time too. Damnit, this was screwing with his head! “Yeah. I’m tired. If you want a ride, you better be ready to go now.”
“Yes, sir.” Olivia picked up her purse and gave Rick a small salute. “Where we off to next? Austin?”
“Yup. Hope you like Tex-Mex.” Thomas arrived just as Rick stopped talking. He took a look at both man and woman and said, “Thomas hates Tex-Mex. So let’s eat a ton on the way back from shows.”
“Am I giving her a lift after every live?” Thomas shook his head. “What am I, the main couple’s chauffeur?”
Rick held out his arm for Olivia to take a hold of. “Indeed you are, good sir! To Austin!”
When Olivia put her hand around Rick’s elbow, he nearly choked, his feet tripping over each other. I want you, Olivia Owens. He had no idea why. Because she rejected him? Because he was genuinely fond of her? Why, when a man didn’t know his own feelings and motives, then what was there?
That’s why God gave us the dance. Him and his sore muscles sashayed out of the arena with Olivia trailing behind, her laughter at his antics almost enough to make him forget he was on the brink of giving anything to have her – and that laugh.