Four

When Cheryl pushed through the back room’s door, it was to see the girls all gathering on one side of the bar. They were arranging themselves on tables, chairs and the floor, and Charlie the bartender had about two dozen cameras lined up on the bar.

“Ain’t you girls evah heard a email?” he teased. “Ya know, take one pick-cha and send it around?”

“Yeah, yeah,” someone called out, and the whole group laughed.

Hath saw her enter the room. “Just in time!” she called. “Come over here and get in the shot!” She and Samantha had Obie sitting front and center, and flanked his sides. Hath patted Obie’s lap. “Even got a seat all picked out for you!”

Cheryl laughed and cast a glance behind her. Jon was smiling and encouraging her to go have her picture taken. “I’ll be right in,” he whispered.

Cheryl walked on shaky legs over to her seat. “Nice to meet you,” she said to Obie.

“Siddown already!” Charlie bellowed.

Cheryl giggled and did as she was told. She looped an arm around Obie’s neck and smiled. After a long few minutes of mugging for the camera, Charlie declared he was done. The girls all relaxed and Hath and Samantha pulled Cheryl aside.

“You okay, honey?” Samantha asked. Then she frowned. “I thought you wore the purple jacket tonight? Where’d you get this one?”

“Uh…” Cheryl hedged. “I sorta ran into a friend out in the restaurant.”

“Jeez,” Hath complained. “Is there anyone you DON’T know?” She and Samantha started laughing.

“Actually,” Cheryl said softly, “you guys know him too.” She smiled. “He came with Obie.”

Hath and Samantha looked at Cheryl for a full minute. Then they looked at each other, eyebrows cocked. Samantha spoke first. “No fucking way,” she said. Cheryl just blushed.

“Yes fucking way?” Hath asked? “This place is going to go insane! Where is he? And did he bring anyone else with him?”

“Did who bring anyone else with him?” Obie asked from behind them, making Hath scream.

“Jesus, man, wear a fucking bell!” she said, swatting his shoulder. He acted just like her brother, and she treated him that way.

“That’s what I tell him,” a whiskey-tinged voice called from the doorway.

The entire room went silent.

Then the screams were deafening.

To their credit, the women flocked to Jon, but didn’t maul him, though the looks on their faces said they wanted to do just that. Some even reached out as if to touch him, but snatched their hands away. He didn’t seem in any hurry to get out of there, and they didn’t want to spoil that.

“Good evenin’, ladies,” Jon said. “Hope you don’t mind me crashin’ your little party here.”

“Oh HELL no,” was the chorused answer.

Jon laughed. “Cheryl, darlin’, you in here somewhere?” he called. Cheryl blushed as the whole room turned to stare agog at her. She gave Jon a little wave. He smiled crossed the room to her. Cheryl introduced him to Samantha and Hath. Jon smirked. “Oh, so you’re Hath, huh?” She just nodded mutely. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. He whispered, “I’m an admirer of your work.”

Hath paled and took one step backward, then another and another until she felt the bar at her back. She slammed her palm down on the mahogany counter. “Charlie!” she shouted. “Cuervo. NOW.” Charlie poured her a shot which she knocked back quickly, and asked for a second when Jon came to the bar.

“I’ll have one of those,” he said. He looked at Hath. “You told Obie drinks were on you, does that extend to me, too?” Hath just nodded, gob smacked. She was a Richie girl through and through, but up close, Jon was certainly something to behold. And he read her stories? She was ready to die.

When Charlie set the drinks down, Jon handed one to Hath. He touched his glass to hers. She had just started to drink it when he said, under his breath, “Here’s to porn.” Hath choked on her tequila and Jon just laughed.

He downed his shot and returned to Cheryl, who hadn’t yet taken her eyes off of him. He winked at her and turned to the room. He saw many of the women holding cameras, but not taking shots. “It’s alright, ladies,” he said. “Click away.” Jon thought he was being a good sport, letting the girls click away at him; taking pictures with them and signing a zillion pieces of paper.

Jon took the time to shake every hand, kiss every proffered cheek, and he had a wide smile for everyone. He answered questions and asked a few of his own, and found that this group of women, while very vocal, were really quite well-behaved. He found himself having a good time, despite how the evening started out.

As he scanned the room again, his gaze caught that of the stray husband that tagged along for the ride, and Jon made his way over. After introducing himself, Jon said, “So how’d you get roped into this, man?”

Steve just laughed. “I love my wife,” he said simply.

Jon chuckled. He remembered when he would have shared that sentiment. He turned and looked for Cheryl again, finding her deep in conference with Hath and Samantha. He sidled up to the trio of women just in time to hear the tail end of the whispered conversation.

“Jon said that he admired my fucking work! What the HELL is that?” Hath sounded mortified, and Jon had to smile.

Samantha chuckled huskily. “Well honey, that would be pretty much your worst nightmare come true. It’s pretty fucking funny if you ask me.”

“Go ahead laugh,” Hath said. “But just remember, if he found me, he found you.” That made Sam’s color rise. “Yeah, tell me about it,” Hath moaned. “I hope you’re happy where my stories are now, because I’m going to put a big old THE END at the end of all of them.”

“Oh, don’t do that,” Jon said, making the women jump. “Richie and David would be so disappointed.”

Hath’s color drained from her face. “Fuck me,” she wailed.

Jon smirked and tilted his head to one side. “I thought you were a Richie girl?”

Hath’s mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. She grabbed Sam’s elbow and pulled. “Air. Drink. Now.”

Cheryl watched them go, and laughed, turning to Jon. “That wasn’t very nice,” she said. “Funny as all hell, but not very nice.”

“Oh come on,” Jon said, leaning his elbow against the bar, and crossing his feet at the ankle. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s a good thing she’s a little drunk; she won’t remember much of that exchange tomorrow.”

Jon laughed. “Do you have her number in your phone?” Cheryl nodded, and handed Jon her cell. He flipped through the numbers until he landed on “Goddess” and dialed. It went straight to voicemail, and Jon left a message. “Hey Hath; Cheryl said you probably wouldn’t remember my comments to you tomorrow, and that just won’t do. Listen up, doll. Some of the guys read your shit. If you stop writing, David and Richie are going to be more of a pain in the ass than normal.”

He flipped the phone closed and handed it back to Cheryl. They chatted for a few minutes, then Jon made the rounds in the room again. Most of the women hadn’t been able to take their eyes off him, and he had to admit, it did his ego good to have that effect on a roomful of women. He eventually made his way back to Obie, and pulled him to the bar. “Bro, I’m gonna take off.” He signaled Charlie, who pulled Jon’s jacket from a shelf behind the bar.

Obie raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You don’t want to bask in the adoration a little longer? Isn’t that a drug for you?”

“Fuck you,” Jon said, though without rancor.

“Not even if you doubled my salary,” Obie said. “You aren’t my type.” He caught something in Jon’s eye. “You aren’t leaving alone, are you. Jesus, Jon.”

“Obe, put a cork in it. I don’t know if I’m leaving alone yet. It’s up to her.”

“Her who?”

“Cheryl. The girl I caught at the door.” Jon found the woman in question watching him, and she blushed and turned away when he caught her glaze.

Obie followed his gaze. “Yeah, sure.” He sighed. “Here,” he dug his keys out of his pocket. “I’ll have Rich come pick me up.”

Jon took the key ring from Obie and stuffed it deep into his jeans. “Thanks man,” he said distracted. He made his way to the door. “Ladies,” he said, “it was a real pleasure meeting you. Be careful driving home, yeah? Goodnight.” Cheryl had been one of the first to come and make her goodbyes, and Jon thought for sure that she would stay near him and maybe walk him out. She didn’t. Maybe he was wrong about her.

Another round of pictures and hand shakes, and finally, an hour after he started, he was able to leave. He saw Hath and Samantha sitting at a bar-table just outside the door. He stopped to say goodbye.

“Are you avoiding me, Hath?” Jon said, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Yes,” Hath said bluntly. “You will be a beautiful blurry memory tomorrow, and that’s just fine by me.”

Jon laughed, “Check your voicemail later, doll,” he said. He circled the table to kiss Sam’s cheek. “It was nice to meet you,” he said. He wanted to ask the women about Cheryl, but didn’t really want to seem desperate. Nice women or not, they were not his friends, and he didn’t make a habit of showing vulnerability to strangers. Fortunately, he didn’t have to bring her up.

“What the fuck is up with you and Cheryl?” Sam demanded. Hath hissed at her to shut up, but Sam just waved her off. “No, no, Hath, he hasn’t taken his fucking eyes off her all night.”

Jon spread his hands in a gesture of total innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We shared a smoke, chatted a little, that’s all.”

Hath dropped her head into her hands. “Oh sweet hell,” she said, then looked at Sam.

“What?” Jon asked.

Sam laughed. “You forgot you are talking to FANS here, pal. Shit, that question should have been totally ignored or gotten a ‘fuck you’ at the very least. You don’t answer questions like that.”

Jon started to get annoyed, then realized she was right. “Look, your friend and I hit it off, okay? She’s funny and pretty and so what if I was looking at her?”

“Hi, Cheryl,” Hath said, looking over Jon’s shoulder.

Jon whirled around. “Hey, we were just talking about you,” he said.

Cheryl looked like she wanted to run away. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I heard.”

Jon grinned. “Walk me out?”

Hath and Sam stared at him, not quite believing what they were seeing. Not that Cheryl didn’t deserve someone like Jon, but because he was being so blatant about it. Hell, they could SEE what he was thinking – not only on his face, but in his pants as well.

“Let me just go grab my jacket,” Cheryl said.

“You can take mine,” Jon said, shrugging out of it. He put it around Cheryl’s shoulders.

“Uh,” she said, looking helplessly to Hath and Sam.

Sam smiled. “We’ll take care of your stuff,” she said. “I assume you want us to stay here until last call?”

Cheryl turned six shades of red. “Samantha!” she hissed.

“What? Like if he asked you, you wouldn’t go. Just let us know if we can go back to the house or if we should get a room for the night.”

“Jesus, Sam!” Cheryl looked to Jon. “Can you please give me one minute?”

Jon smiled at Cheryl, “Of course, sweetheart.” He winked at her. “You have my favorite jacket, I’m not going anywhere without it.” He tapped the end of her nose and strutted away from the women, all of whom stared at the most magnificent ass on the planet as its owner sauntered from the room.