Satellite of Love (14 page)

“Bear D’Amato.” She gasped. Her gaze flickered to Maureen and back to him. “Oh my God. What can I help you with?”

“I want to see my girlfriend in that dress you have in the window.” He cocked his head in the direction of the dress.

“Your girlfriend. Oh. Absolutely.” The blond fluttered her hands, stumbling backward toward an archway. “If you’ll step this way, I’ll show you to the viewing salon. Miss, the dressing room is right through that curtain and I’ll bring the dress to you. Mr. D’Amato you can...um, there’s a sofa for you to wait on—and coffee— Or I can send someone to get you...something.”

Once they’d passed through it, the clerk untied a curtain, shielding them from the main store.

“I’ll be fine.” Bear gave Maureen a squeeze before letting her go and sat down on the couch. Then shooting him a doubtful look, she disappeared behind the red velvet curtain.

A few minutes later, when she reappeared in the dress, she still looked dubious. Hot, but dubious. The clerk had put her in a pair of matching strappy silver heels that gave her a lovely chewing gum walk, but didn’t erase the uncertainty on her face. “Do you have any idea how much this costs?” she asked.

“I’m pretty sure I don’t care.”

“It feels like I’m naked.”

He shifted, trying to control the response that image produced. Good thing the hotel was only a block away. “If you’re not comfortable in it, we don’t have to get it.”

The clerk cleared her throat. “There are a few other things that would look good on you in the back, if you’d like to see them.”

“You started this,” she said to him with a shrug.

“Let’s see what you have then.”

“You can— You can have a seat and I’ll bring them out... Unless you wanted to change back into your clothes first...I can wait... Are you sure you don’t want something to drink? Coffee? Soft drink?” The clerk twisted her hands together.

“I’m fine,” Maureen said. “Michael?”

“I’d be better if you were over here.” He patted the seat next to him.

The clerk gave a delighted sigh as Maureen walked over and settled next to him, then scurried off to collect the other options. Bear traced his fingertips over Maureen’s bare back, and she crossed her legs. Her gaze slid sideways toward him, cool and hot at the same time. “You’re being bad again.”

“I know. Are you going to make me stand in the corner?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Depends on how bad you are.”

The clerk came out, pushing a wooden rack with a bunch of dresses on it. Instead of watching the fashion show, he watched Maureen. She eliminated a couple of things out of hand as too racy and a couple more as too expensive. Within a few minutes, she’d narrowed it down to three, only one of which was backless. The old cow who had dismissed them when they’d walked in, came to stand at the back of the room while the clerk put together complete outfits for Maureen to take into the dressing room. When he glared at the old bat so she would go away, she only returned the look.

“Do you mind?” he asked.

She snorted and flounced out.

Maureen returned, wearing a fluffy blue and purple thing. Its raggedy hem fell to her knees and, though backless, it left too much up to the imagination. “You don’t like it,” she said.

He shook his head.

She shrugged. “Okay. Next!”

Next
looked like something off a sixties TV show. Neat and sleek, it was cotton candy pink, fell just above her knee and didn’t show enough cleavage. She looked like she was born in it.

“You don’t like it,” she said.

“I didn’t say that.”

She smirked at him. “I’ll go change. Maybe third time will be a charm.”

Third time was not a charm. Crushed dark green velvet that molded to her form, this dress only fell midway down her thighs and had a high neck and long sleeves. Maureen walked out tugging the hem down. “I bet you like this one,” she said, smoothing the fabric over her hips.

“You don’t.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“That a promise?”

She gave him a dirty look before turning to the clerk. “I’m sorry. It looks like we’re batting zero today.”

“Can I ask what event you’re dressing for?” The girl started nibbling her fingernails.

“A concert,” Maureen said.

“The SendDown show.” That dress made her legs look several delicious miles long. Totally out of character, but delightful to look at. Maybe he could talk her into wearing it at home when it was just the two of them. No, that would get in the way of her being naked.

“Oh, the SendDown concert! I’m going to that show. Wait. I have another idea.” The clerk dove behind the curtain.

Maureen shrugged.

“Come here,” he said low, waving her closer.

“Why?”

“Because you look fantastic and I want to experience it up close.”

She licked her lips and slunk across the room. Stopping in front of him, she leaned over and put her hands on the back of the sofa on either side of his shoulders. “Close enough?”

“Almost.” He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap.

“Michael! We’re in public.”

Bear rubbed his cheek on the velvet. “We’re alone.”

“Someone could walk in any second.” She pushed herself off his lap, but stayed next to him. “If you like this dress that much, I’ll wear it for you.”

“Who says I like it that much?”

The clerk zipped through the room and out the curtain to the front of the store.

“You haven’t stopped petting me since I sat down,” Maureen said.

He put his hand on her shoulder and forced it to stay still. “You look uncomfortable. I don’t want you to wear anything you don’t like.”

With a soft sigh, she leaned her head on his shoulder, and he rested his head on hers. Who cared what those guys in SendDown thought of her? Who cared what the other guys in the band thought? She was fantastic and if they couldn’t see it, they were morons.

“So what do you do in rehearsal?” she asked.

“Sort out the set list and practice the songs until we can do them in our sleep. You’ll have lots of time to sightsee.”

“And what do you do on tour?”

“Travel, perform, sleep, start over the next day.” He ran his fingers through her hair. The velvet was nice, but it had nothing on the texture of her hair. “You’ll want to bring a book. Maybe one of those ebook readers so you can bring lots of books.”

“You don’t sound like you enjoy it.”

“It’s pretty boring. You spend a lot of time waiting to get on stage and very little time performing.”

“What do the other guys’ girlfriends do while you’re all touring?”

“I dunno. Shop? I guess you’ll have to ask them.”

The clerk zipped back in with a couple of shopping bags in her hands and stopped in the middle of the room gasping for breath. “I’ve got...some things...for you to try.” She held up the bags.

Maureen slid off the couch. “You didn’t have to rush. We’re in no hurry.”

The clerk shook her head, gesturing with the bags.

As Maureen followed her into the dressing room, he tried to soak up as much of her departing view as he could. She knew how to work a pair of high heels. Something he always admired in a woman. Too bad she wouldn’t be wearing that dress again, or the silver one. Neither one really suited her, but the view had been nice. Of the three, the pink conservative one had looked the best. He’d never imagined himself as the kind of guy who would be with a girl in a proper pink dress, but here he was.

The clerk drew the curtain back and Maureen stepped through. Snake skin stilettos. Dark wash jeans that made her legs long and lean. A long sleeved chocolate brown velvet top that hugged her body, but draped loosely between her breasts. A gold chain around her neck with a single music note suspended from it. Hair swept back off her face to show off earrings that matched the necklace. She strode to the mirror and smiled at him in its reflection.

Bear went to stand behind her. The heels made her almost exactly his height. He wrapped his arms around her waist. “Comfortable?”

“Yes. You like?”

“I do.” He nuzzled her neck. “You look amazing. Why don’t you wear it now? They can put your clothes in a bag.”

“Will it make you happy?”

“If it’ll make you happy.”

She reached back and brushed her fingers through his hair. “Pay the nice lady.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He trailed his hand around her waist as he stepped back. This velvet slid under his hands like warm water and he didn’t want to stop touching it. He fished his credit card out of his wallet and handed it over. “Pack up that pink dress too, with whatever stuff you had with it.”

“Why?” Maureen asked as the clerk hurried out.

“Because you liked it.”

“You didn’t.” She draped her arms around his neck.

“I liked you in it.”

She brushed his nose with hers. “I guess I’ll have to think of an appropriate thank you.”

“I look forward to it.”

* * * *

“Here, stick this on your jeans.” Michael handed her a satiny disk that looked like a sewer cover and had the words
SendDown Street Release Tour
written around it. In the center was a scribble that could have been a set of initials or a pictogram from a lost civilization. She peeled the paper off the back and stuck it on her thigh.

They’d taken a cab the seven blocks to the hall and been let off at the back door, where a small mob was held back by sawhorses and city cops. The guard at the door had recognized Michael and ushered them inside. She wiped her hands on her leg. It wasn’t just the guard who recognized Michael. The crowd had and so had most of the people inside the building. At least most of the people inside were men. Outside, it had been mostly women dressed in less than what she’d turned down yesterday.

“They’re in the dressing room,” the guy Michael had gotten the disks from told him. “You know where it is.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Michael caught her hand. “They won’t be going on for an hour so we’ll have some time to hang out.”

“These are friends of yours?” Up and down the hall, the white cement block walls were broken periodically by doors and ended in a set of double metal doors. A roar leaked through like there might be several prides of very annoyed lions behind them. Michael pushed open a door and walked in. A couple of guys lounged on cracked black vinyl couches that faced one another across the long narrow room.

“Hey!” A tattooed man with greasy black hair leaped up. “Bear, man, glad you could make it.” He grabbed Michael’s hand and shook it. Another guy got up and sauntered over, looking only at her. She took a step back and half behind Michael. Everyone else in the room started moving closer.

“Haven’t seen you guys in ages,” Michael said.

“Yeah, cuz we’ve been fuckin’ touring forever,” the first man said. “This must be the new woman.” He held out his hand to her. “Trent.”

“Maureen.” She held out her hand and he didn’t rattle her teeth when he shook it as she’d feared.

Michael put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her forward again. “Maureen, this is Trent, Alan, Gian and Rumballs.”

“Fuck you,” the one he’d called Rumballs said before shaking her hand.

“A pleasure to meet you.” Gian cupped her hand, his gaze boring into her.

“A pleasure.” She pulled her hand away. Rumballs punched Gian’s shoulder. Michael didn’t even seem to notice the come on. He hadn’t introduced any of the women either. There were seven or eight. One walked over and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Hi again,” she said. In the skimpy dress and heavy makeup, it took Maureen a minute to recognize the clerk from the store yesterday.

“Hi.”

“I have to say, that outfit looks great on you.” She smirked. “I do good work.”

“Yes, thanks. You didn’t mention that you were with the band.” Maureen glanced at Michael, but he was already deep in conversation with Trent and Rumballs.