Starstruck (22 page)

“I just don’t see you boys as the serious types whatsoever,
but that’s the impression your covers give me. When you perform live, you clown
around with each other and play off the audience and the cameras. So I was
thinking of doing more of a comical theme, something closer to what you’re
really
like. This album will be released on the band’s twentieth anniversary, right?
From what Jesse’s told me, the songs are very different from what you’ve
released before so why not make the cover different as well?”

She passed around the large sketches, hiding her anxiety
underneath a confident smile. “Please keep in mind I’ve only penned these
drawings. They’ll be much more effective when I do them in color. I wouldn’t
ordinarily show rough drafts at a presentation, but this was all I had to work
with because of the short notice. Once I get back to the studio, I’ll be able
to assemble them properly and show you a professional finish. These sketches
are just what sprung to mind first, but I think they’ll give you an idea of the
concept I’m trying to relay.”

The men wordlessly passed the sketches back and forth and
the room fell silent for what seemed an eternity. She examined their faces, but
they gave nothing away.

For the front cover, she’d drawn a true-to-life tour bus any
half-crazed hippy would have been proud to own—
JERICO Opposites Attract
written along the side. It was driving past small road signs, each displaying a
picture of their previous album covers.

The minute detail she’d illustrated on the tiny CDs was
impeccable, if she did say so herself. The band members were drawn
cartoon-style—the boys’ overly exaggerated heads hanging out the windows like
Charlie Brown and his friends on their way to summer camp.

The back cover was the complete opposite. The bus—drawn from
the rear—and scenery were animated. She had delicately sketched real-life
portraits of each band member peering out the back. Rick had his hands pressed
to the window, his cheeks puffed out, blowing his mouth up against the clear
barrier just like a child.

Lock up your daughters!
was written in graffiti
across the backside of the bus underneath the words
Emergency Exit—Keep
Clear
. The road ahead was free of signs, signifying what came next wasn’t
yet written—it was unknown which direction their music would take.

The remaining sketches were related designs they could
transfer to t-shirts and other promotional merchandise.

When the men still hadn’t given her any response or even
looked at her since she’d handed out the drawings, sweat dripped down the back
of her neck, tickling her skin. What could they possibly be thinking?

“Ah…don’t forget real photos will be used where I’ve drawn
these for now, and the rest will be animated and in full color.” She waited for
what felt like an hour. “Of course, this is only one idea. I’m sure I can come
up with something else if you’d like to tell me what your thoughts are.”

Jackson Reid, the band’s lead guitarist, was the first to
pipe up. “Sam, did you say you only did these yesterday?”

Finally, someone was looking at her…speaking to her. “Yeah,
sorry. I know they’re not up to scratch. I—”

“Jesus! Sam, these are way cool! Fuck me. If these are your
rough drafts, I can’t wait to see the real deal.” He shot a huge child-like
grin in her direction before looking at each of the band in turn. When all eyes
remained on her work, he turned back to her. “See? Look what you’ve done. Left
’em speechless. That’s a first.”

As if Jackson had flicked a switch, the band suddenly came
to life. They all spoke over one another, trying to talk to her at once. They
loved her idea and no one was interested in seeing any other. The portraits
were a big hit, especially the one of Rick. He very much liked that she’d made
him stand out on the back cover instead of Jesse.

“I’m finally getting the spotlight, like I deserve.” He
puffed his chest out and pulled his shoulders back with pride.

“Yeah, she’s captured you perfectly, Bradshaw. The village
idiot.” Jesse dug his elbow into Rick’s ribs.

The band’s manager, Vince Clarke, stood and shook Sam’s
hand, flashing his pearly whites. “Well, looks like we have ourselves a deal,
Ms. Raven.”

She squeezed his hand, keeping her posture polite, but she
couldn’t let go soon enough. Trepidation slithered like a slippery eel over her
skin. There was something not quite right about Vince. She hoped he didn’t
notice her recoil as she let go.

“Remind me never to play poker with you guys.” She gathered
her materials and Vince handed her a copy of the contract he’d drawn up at
Jesse’s request.

Everyone ventured to the poolroom as Lia and Dino Maurello
arrived with the food. After receiving warm hugs and kisses on both cheeks, Sam
helped cart the catering boxes from the van into Jesse’s kitchen, and then ran
upstairs to get ready before the rest of the guests arrived.

Showering quickly, she decided to wear one of the dresses
Rick had bought her. She picked the least extravagant one—a simple, black,
off-the-shoulder dress with long tight sleeves that flared a little at her
wrists. It was a tad shorter than she would’ve liked, but was still modest,
resting a few inches above her knees. It hugged her waist and hips and swung
loosely around her thighs.

She was drying her hair when a soft rap came from the
bedroom door. “Come in,” she called from the bathroom.

She poked her head through the doorway as Lia floated toward
her. “I hope you don’t mind, Samantha. I was hoping we could chat before the
party. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Not at all, Lia. Actually, I’m glad you’re here. How handy
are you with a bobby pin?” She fussed with some stray locks that wouldn’t sit
where she wanted them.

Lia joined her in front of the mirror. “Let me help you,
bella
ragazza
. My flair for hair has gone to waste with three boys. Pass me those
pins.”

Within minutes, Lia had pinned up the tassels of Sam’s hair,
small strands at a time, and left some fine curls to fall naturally and frame
her face. She looked at herself. She felt sexy, demure, and something as simple
as a new hairstyle had given her all the confidence she’d been lacking today.

“You’re stunning, Samantha. You and my Jesse would make
beautiful children together, yes?” Lia smiled warmly at Sam’s reflection.

Sam rushed out of the bathroom, lugged the heavy suitcase
full of heels, boots and flats across the room and threw it onto the bed.
“Would you help me choose some shoes to go with this dress? I swear, Ricky
seems better at this than I am. I think I’ll pass on jewelry though. I feel a
bit too made-up already.”

“Oh
la mia ragazza
, it wouldn’t matter what you wore.
I’ve seen how my son looks at you, and if I didn’t know better I’d say he was
in love. Who knows? The good Lord may decide to bless me with more
bambini
grand
after all.” Lia gushed over the selection of designer footwear.

Sam enjoyed the awe on her face for a moment longer, but she
had to squash Lia’s dream for her son—the part that included her, anyway.

“Lia, I’ve liked you from the moment I met you. In fact, I
think given the chance, I could fall in love with your entire family. I guess
what I’m trying to say is I feel comfortable around you and…well…I think I can
speak freely with you.”

“Of course you can, Sam. What is it? Is there something
wrong?”

“No, no, not really. It’s just hearing you speak like this
makes me feel… You see, it hasn’t come up with Jesse, of course. We’ve only
really just met, after all, so why would it, but…” She sat on the bed with a
sigh, seemingly unable to complete a full sentence. She was hesitant to share her
secret with someone she barely knew so before she could change her mind, she
forced the words out. “I can’t have children, Lia.”

Jesse’s mother blinked slowly, her lips parting with a soft
gasp.

“I’m sorry to dump something like that on you. I just couldn’t
bear to see you get your hopes up. I’m sure he will give you lots of
grandbabies, but they won’t be with me. Besides even if we didn’t live so far
apart, once I’ve told Jesse, he’ll realize we don’t have a future together.”

“You can’t know that for certain. If you talk with him, he
might surprise you.”

“I don’t really see the point, do you? I know I shouldn’t
assume anything about him. But I’m not blind. I saw how he doted on his nephews
the other night. And did you see his face light up when he held the baby? He
wants kids of his own, Lia. That’s plain to see.

“Anyway, it’s probably good I’m going home in a few days.
The more time I spend with him…” Sam hung her head, blinking back the tears
stinging her eyes.

Lia joined her on the bed and gently lifted her chin. “Hey
now, it will be all right. You’ll see. Do you want to know what I think?”

Sam nodded.

“You should leave this decision to Jesse. If his love is
strong, and I think for you it might be, then nothing else will matter in the
end. Take a chance,
la mia bella ragazza
. What have you got to lose? And
I would even stop my nagging about more grandchildren if I knew he was happy,
if he’d found his
il vero amore
.” She smiled.

“His what?”

“His true love, my beautiful girl.” She hugged Sam within
her motherly embrace.

She was an elegant, classically ravishing woman, but her hug
emanated pure old-fashioned comfort. With a soft pat to Sam’s shoulder, Lia
reached into her purse and brought out a shiny silver charm bracelet. It
tinkled like a tiny wind chime, sweet and gentle to the ears. After clasping it
securely around Sam’s wrist, she held on to both of Sam’s hands, closed her
eyes and recited something in Italian—presumably some kind of prayer.

When she’d finished, she looked up at Sam, smiled and kissed
both cheeks in the traditional manner. She made the sign of the cross on Sam’s
forehead with the tip of her thumb and kissed her there as well.

“I came up here to give you this. This bracelet is an old
tradition in my family. It’s given for good luck and a happy life. The charms
date back to ancient times in the old country, used to ward off bad spirits and
negative thoughts. This is my gift to you, my girl. I know of the trouble you
kids had the other night and I hope this will bring you blessings.”

She raised Sam’s wrist and pointed out each of the tiny
charms in turn. “The horseshoe is a universal charm for good luck, of course.
And this one, the strange-looking man with the top hat? See how he’s formed the
fingers on one hand to resemble horns? He’s called Gobbo and he’s also for good
luck. This one here kind of looks like a chili, yes? It’s called cornetto. It
is the most-used Italian amulet and possibly the most powerful. It not only
brings good fortune, but it is a fertility charm, centuries old. Priests would
nail the amulet on the outside door whenever a couple was having trouble
conceiving a child. In light of what you’ve shared with me tonight, that one
seems a little more significant now, doesn’t it?”

“And this one?” Sam ran her finger over the final charm on
the bracelet—a silver hand, the index and pinky fingers raised while the thumb
held the remaining digits down against the palm, just like Gobbo.

“Corna, it wards off negative energy.”

“It’s beautiful, Lia. Thank you so much.” She kissed Jesse’s
mother on both cheeks.

Lia smiled and handed her a pair of black heels that were
laced-up pointed boots at the front with small silver-buckled straps across the
open back. “Here, try these on and let’s see how they look with that dress.”

Sam hadn’t been so sure about those particular shoes when
Jesse insisted on getting them, but appraising herself in the full-length
mirror, she decided they set off her outfit perfectly. They gave her some extra
height, lengthening her legs even more, and the sexy laces at the front were a
little bit rock ’n roll. She liked her overall appearance and Lia
wholeheartedly agreed.

“Are you so sure…about not being able to have children, I
mean? Medicine has advanced so much even in the past decade.” Lia jumped up to
secure the zipper on the back of Sam’s dress when she turned around.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I had a full examination when I was a
teenager. My mother has a rare form of endometriosis…as do I, unfortunately.”
She nervously smoothed her dress one more time before preparing to join Jesse
downstairs.

“But your mother had you, didn’t she?”

“Well yes, but I was some kind of miracle…or so they say.
The doctors tell me my case is even more severe than my mother’s so there’ll be
no miracles for me. I accepted my fate a long time ago and I’m okay with it.
But just for now, Lia, can we keep this between us?” She picked up a black
cashmere shawl.

“Already in the vault, Sam. My lips are sealed.” Lia
clutched Sam’s hands and squeezed them gently before leading her downstairs.

Lia joined her handsome husband in the kitchen to make
certain everything would be served hot while Sam found Jesse and the boys out
by the poolside, having a beer and talking guy stuff—football mainly.

“See? What did I tell ya, numb nuts? Just look at that
dress! Now do I know how to shop or do I know how to
shop
?” Rick
playfully punched Jesse’s shoulder.

“Yeah you did all right, asshole. But I picked the shoes.”
He hit Rick right back.

* * * * *

Jesse had hired a small security team for the evening to man
the front gate, valets to park cars and a bouncer to double-check each
invitation. He didn’t usually go to such extremes, not even for much larger
gatherings, but he wasn’t taking any chances since the break-in.

Most invitees showed—even a few roadies. Rick elected to
play DJ for the night and Jesse happily stood behind the bar in the poolroom,
taking requests for cocktails and spirits. His mother had arranged a couple of
large tables on one side of the huge kitchen and the food was set out for
people to help themselves. Round glass tables and wicker chairs lined the
expanse of the outdoor deck and pool area, creating a comfortable place to sit
and eat.