Girl of My Dreams (23 page)

His stare was so intense she wondered if there could be a tear in her gown or a zit on her face.

She drank in his deep blue eyes and firm chin. In her imagination, she ran her fingers through his thick, black hair, as he called out her name.

“Jillian, earth to Jillian,” Blake said.

She wasn’t imagining her name being called. Heat rose to her face. “Sorry, I was daydreaming for a second.”

“Now that I have your attention, what do you think of the band?” Blake asked. He stared into her eyes, as if the question were of major importance.

“Fine, just fine.”

The truth was she couldn’t for the life of her remember what the band sounded like or even what song was being played. How could she, when more important concerns required her attention, like how to ditch Troy and make Blake want her?

A purple-haired young woman in a bold geometric print bounded up to them. Huge silver earrings brightened the surrounding area. Where had she come from? Jillian didn’t remember her from the show. Maybe she’d been backstage in the crew.

Blake, looking not a bit startled by the eye-popping display, smiled in welcome. Jillian’s teeth clenched. Was this his latest conquest? Wasn’t she on the young side?

“Everyone, meet my new assistant, Martina Taggett.”

“I thought your assistant was named Luanne,” Jillian said.

“That was the second one after you. You need to get the order straight. First there was Stacy Garner, then Luanne Anderson, then Camille Diego. None of them worked out, but this one’s a keeper.”

“I’m not a fish,” Marti said, with a pout.

Blake gave her a quick hug. “That you’re not.”

It looked as if Blake knew his assistant too well. A hot dagger flashed through Jillian.

Troy glanced at Jillian. “Why the frown? This is a party.”

“You’re right. For a second, I felt a little tired. I’m better now. Let’s dance.”

It was Denise’s turn to flash a quizzical look at Jillian. Oh, dear. She hadn’t wanted to hog Troy. The object was to get Denise and Troy together. There had to be a better way.

“Wait a minute. I can’t have my best friend stand by all night while I go off and dance with the best looking guy in the room. Let’s share the wealth.” Jillian turned to Troy. “You don’t mind dancing with Denise a bit, do you?”

“This lovely lady? Just say when.”

“How about right now?” Blake chimed out of nowhere.

“The first dance belongs to my future bride,” Troy said.

He darted a suspicious glance at Blake, as if to remind him Jillian was not his for the taking.

So near and yet so far,
ran through Jillian’s mind. She refrained from clenching her teeth as Troy twirled her onto the dance floor. To make matters worse, it was a slow dance. She tried to keep a safe distance, but that proved impossible. Troy’s strong arms gripped her in a bear hug. She was stuck.

It got worse. Troy didn’t relinquish her for the next dance either, which was also slow. They came up beside Blake, who had his arms around Marti, with not an inch between them. Something was wrong with this picture.

Blinking back sudden tears, Jillian turned her face from the sight. It all seemed hopeless. She’d never get Blake at this rate.

A commotion started at the door. Someone shouted, “You can’t go in there.”

Jillian turned to look.

“Don’t argue. You go first,” the person said.

Jillian had just identified the voice when the security guard stepped into the room followed by Nadia Romanoff in a lemon-colored harem outfit reminiscent of
I Dream of Jeannie.

Like a DVD with Nadia at the remote, the dancers stopped in their tracks. The band froze mid-song.

Jillian swallowed hard. She had a bad feeling about what was about to happen. She didn’t want to look, but did anyway. Nadia held a gun at the guard’s back. His holster was bare.           “Lock that door,” she ordered.

He reached for the key and turned the lock in the bolt.

While Nadia’s back was turned, Blake sidled up to Jillian. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. She held on tight.   

She knew what he was thinking. Nadia had come to finish the job she’d started. This time, there’d be no escape. Jillian’s blood ran cold, despite the warmth of Blake’s fingers.

Troy glanced at them questioningly. She brushed away a feeling of guilt. In an emergency, rules of etiquette didn’t apply. It wasn’t fair to Troy, but she couldn’t change that.

“Everyone, face down on the floor. If anyone pulls out a cell phone, I’ll shoot you. Now, eat dirt,” Nadia shouted.

Jillian stifled a hysterical giggle. First statues, now this childhood game. It should be dubbed Nadia Says, instead of Simon Says.

She bit her lip to keep from saying, Mother may I.

It wouldn’t do to antagonize a crazy person. She’d better follow Nadia’s instructions.

About to comply, Jillian felt the cold steel on her back. She hadn’t noticed Nadia moving toward her.         

“Not you,” Nadia said.

She pointed the gun at Troy and Blake. “Get down or dream girl gets it.”       

They sank onto the floor. The pistol swung back to Jillian. “Up on stage. Time for a show.”

This was not good. All Jillian could do was stall for time. Doing her best not to step on anyone, Jillian slowly picked her way through the sprawled bodies. She passed Denise, who mouthed,
Good luck.

She didn’t reply. There was no sense in drawing attention to her friend.

She climbed the side stairs to the stage, then almost tripped over a sprawled band member.

Nadia stood front and center in the audience. “Get to the middle, over by the mike, and don’t move,” she commanded.

Jillian did as she was told. From her vantage point, an eerie sea of supine bodies greeted her, as if an epidemic had swept the room. She felt like she’d stepped into a thriller and had assumed the lead role. It was not a pleasant sensation.

Putting her acrobatic experience to use, Nadia somersaulted onto the stage beside Jillian. “Hey, drummer, unplug that mike and bring me the cord. Two of the guitar strings, too,” Nadia said.

He clambered up, followed her directions, then stood before her holding out the items.

“Don’t just stand there. Tie the dream girl’s hands in back of her, now.”

He rushed to do the crazy one’s bidding.

“Tighter, drummer boy.”

Jillian refused to wince as the metal dug into the soft flesh of her wrists.

“Okay, now the ankles. After that, tie her tummy to the mike stand. Good boy. Now get down on the floor.”

He backed away before re-assuming a face-down position. Jillian didn’t blame him for attempting to get as far away from Nadia as possible.            

Nadia advanced toward Jillian. As they stared each other down, Jillian hid an inward grimace at the sight of the caked false eyelashes and extravagantly applied eye shadow framing the wild, bloodshot eyes. Bright crimson lipstick made Nadia’s evilly twisted mouth appear even more grotesque. She’d lost whatever beauty she’d had and now looked like a cartoon caricature.

Jillian felt helpless. The situation didn’t look good. Should she say her last prayers?

“Bartender, bring me a bottle of vodka,” came the next order.

The man jumped up, grabbed a bottle and brought it over.

“Now throw it in dream girl’s face.”

He hesitated, looking from the gun to Nadia, as if weighing his chances.

“Now, or you get it, too,” Nadia shouted.

The man aimed.

Jillian shut her eyes tight. She gasped as the liquor hit her face. It flew into her nose and dripped down her neck and shoulders.

“Now for the real fun. Who wants to see the dream girl turn into a nightmare?”

No one answered.

“Come on, ladies, tell the truth. Isn’t she just too pretty to exist? Deep down, don’t you just hate her? Well, I’ll take care of that right now. She won’t bother you, or me, or any one else when I get through. Anyone got a match?”

Not a sound was heard in the club as Nadia’s intent sank into the minds of the audience. Jillian was to become a human torch.

The reality of her plight hit Jillian. This was really happening. Her life might end at any second. The best case scenario was she’d be burned and scarred. The worst she daren’t think about.

She stood helpless and shaking. She couldn’t move if she wanted to.  

No one proffered a match. Jillian’s hopes rose.  

Nadia’s next words dashed them. “I was never a Girl Scout, but I came prepared.” She reached into her pants pocket and withdrew a silver object.

Using her free hand, Nadia flicked open the lighter. In petrified awe, Jillian watched the flame light. Hysterically, she wondered if everyone present would rise, flick their own lighters and sing,
Hey, Jude
.

Please don’t let this be happening. Let it stop,
she silently prayed.

As if in answer, she heard a rustle from the floor. Someone was getting up, no, more than one person. She kept her eyes averted so as not to tip Nadia off. Instead she stared at the hypnotic flame.

“You poor dear. No mirror to look at yourself one last time. Well, you can always watch the reruns,” Nadia said, with a laugh.

She waved the lighter back and forth, taunting Jillian.

The bile rose in her stomach, but she wouldn’t flinch. Any minute her looks, if not her life, would vanish. Pride might be all she had left.

She saw two figures creep up behind Nadia. As they drew closer, Jillian identified Blake and Troy. Jillian bit her lip. As much as she wanted to warn them off, she dare not give away their presence. They were facing grave danger by disobeying Nadia’s orders. If the madwoman suspected anything, she’d turn and fire on them.

Nadia pulled back her arm, ready to throw the lighter in Jillian’s face. Right then, Blake and Troy both jumped. Would she shoot or burn them?

As the lighter flew into the air, Blake’s hand deflected it. It landed beside Jillian on the floor. Flames shot up.

As Troy tackled Nadia by the waist, the gun dropped. Blake jumped onto the stage. The band members dashed toward the exit.          

Stuck to the microphone pole, Jillian felt useless. Blake had no time to undo the bonds. He grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her off the stage, pole and all. Not exactly the way she’d envisioned his arms around her.

Seconds later, the sprinklers went off. Water blended with the vodka in Jillian’s hair and dribbled down her chin. The fire fizzled and was replaced by vapor.

When it had all cleared, she found Troy holding onto a kicking and squirming Nadia.

Blake released his hold. “I’ll be right back. We can’t let her get away.”

An unwarranted feeling of abandonment swept over Jillian. The fire was out. She wasn’t in any danger. It made sense for Blake to help subdue Nadia, yet she wanted him to stay and hold her.

Denise ran up. “That was close. Are you all right?”

“I will be, once I’m untied.”

As her friend picked at the knots, the police, security guards and firemen rushed in.

“Everybody out front,” a guard yelled.  Two officers rushed to relieve Blake and Troy of their bucking burden. One of them slipped handcuffs onto the screaming Nadia, and said, “You’re going to the station.”

Blake and Troy joined Jillian and Denise. In the interim, Denise managed to loosen the bonds on Jillian’s feet, and started on the hands.

“Let me help,” Blake said.

“No problem.” Denise flashed Jillian a knowing smile and turned to Troy.

“What you did was mighty brave,” she said.

While Denise bolstered the billionaire’s ego, Jillian concentrated on Blake. With the first touch of his fingertips, her nerve endings screeched into full alert. It took forever for him to loosen the knots, yet she didn’t want him to stop.

“There, I think I’ve got it,” he said.

Her hands were free. They tingled as the blood rushed back. She flexed her fingers to try and get the circulation flowing.

“They seemed to have fallen asleep,” she said. They were the only part of her she could say that about.

Blake looked into her eyes. “I’ll help.”

“Thanks,” she said in almost a whisper.

He took her hands into his and gently rubbed her wrists. The torture grew more intense as the circulation returned not only to that area, but others as well. She almost moaned from pleasure.

“Is that better?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Okay, let’s work on getting the rest of you unattached from that pole.”

“It’s growing on me. I’m kind of used to it,” Jillian said, with a laugh.

“Well, all good things must come to an end.”

She trembled as his hands touched her back while trying to loosen the knots, and almost went into cardiac arrest when his arms encircled her waist to release her from the last vestiges of her bonds.