Moments In Time Page 6

  “I haven’t given up. I’ll get it out of you one way or another,” Lindy assured her. “Before I forget, can you get me a ticket for the concert tonight? I know you won’t want to go, but I’m dying to see this group. Monkshood. A bunch of the girls from my office went down last night, and all they could talk about all day was this incredible band and this unbelievably hunky guitar player. And can I have your parking spot?”

  “Yes to the ticket, but you’re on your own as far as the parking place is concerned. I’ll be using it.”

  “You’re kidding. Do you have to work late?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re staying for the show… Oh, I guess you heard about the guitar player, too?” she teased, knowing that other than dealing with the contracts and the reports regarding box office receipts, Maggie, whose taste in music was limited to jazz, rarely gave a second thought to who was performing.

  “Something like that. I’ll get you the seat next to mine if it’s available.”

  “Great,” Lindy replied, wondering why she hadn’t had to twist her arm as she usually did.

  “I’ll meet you for dinner, how’s that? Probably around seven, so we won’t have too much time.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll stop into your office…”

  “No, don’t do that. Go in and get a table, and I’ll meet you. Gotta run.” Maggie hung up abruptly, not wanting to have to explain that she would most likely just be arriving back at the arena herself around seven after driving back to her apartment to pick up J.D.

  She turned her attention to the file on her desk, and by the time she’d completed what she needed to do, it was 6:05. She cleared her desk and locked it, grabbed her jacket, and sped out the door, leaving a few startled co-workers puzzled by her quick departure without so much as a good-bye.

  J.D. was outside sitting on the front porch steps, his jacket folded across his lap. He walked across the lawn when he saw her pull around the corner, got into the passenger side, and leaned over, kissing her once, twice, three times.

  “My neighbors will be talking about me,” she protested but only minimally.

  “No doubt.” He leaned back into the seat, grinning, and rolled down the window.

  They made some small talk in the car, but she could tell he was distracted, keyed up. He tapped on the console, and the expression on his face told her he was a million miles away. She wondered if he was always this nervous before a performance.

  She pulled into the already jammed parking lot, the attendant waving her into the employees’ section, and she parked as close to the building as she could. They walked through the doors and were past the guard’s desk behind the glass partition before anyone in the crowded ticket lobby realized who had just walked by.

  “Will you wait for me in the bar?” he asked, and she nodded. He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose before following the hallway toward the dressing room area.

  Maggie opened the door to her office and turned on the light. She hung her jacket on the back of her chair and sat down for a minute to compose herself. She’d been like this all day, everytime she thought of him. No man had ever affected her the way he had. Not Jake, not Steven, whom she’d almost thought she was in love with back in September. Not Mace, her former husband. It bothered her to feel this way. Tomorrow he’d be gone. She fingered the petals of a rose. How could he have known she’d preferred white to red, the usual rose of choice?

  Seven-fifteen. Not much time for dinner. Maggie hurried down the hall and into the bar and found Lindy seated at a table.

  “Why so late? Where have you been?” Lindy asked.

  “I got tied up.”

  “Here’s your dinner. I ordered for you since we’re running out of time. Good thing you showed up. I couldn’t eat two of these myself.”

  The waitress placed a plate of chicken salad in front of each woman.

  “So, Margaret,” Lindy said, grinning, “let’s hear it. And don’t leave out any of the good parts.”

  “Well, you know I fell on Sunday. Flat on my face. There I was, jogging along, then the next thing I knew, my ankle went out from under me, and I was headed toward the ground. It was so odd, I still can’t figure out what happened—”

  “Maggie, while God knows I’m sympathetic that you got hurt, this is not really the recent history I’m interested in hearing about, you know? I mean, I already heard all this from Jake, and right now, the part I want to hear about is—”

  “What exactly did Jake tell you?”

  Lindy put her fork down, sighed, and recited the salient points of the conversation.

  “You went jogging with him down by the river. He took the long trail, you took the four-mile trail. You fell. He found you on the ground. You hurt your ankle. He came down the path and you were sitting there, and some scruffy guy with long hair was—”

  “Well, he’s far from scruffy, and he doesn’t have long hair anymore.” Maggie laughed at Jake’s description of J.D. She should have guessed that, had Jake mentioned him, it wouldn’t have been in complimentary terms.

  Lindy’s jaw dropped. “What are you saying?”

  “He got a haircut,” Maggie said matter-of-factly.

  “Who got a haircut?” Lindy’s eyes sparkled with curiosity-

  “J.D.” Maggie continued to eat, barely looking up at her companion.

  “Who is J.D.?” Lindy leaned halfway across the table.

  “The guy I met on Sunday.” Maggie’s deliberate nonchalance was driving Lindy crazy.

  “Let me get this straight. J.D. is the scruffy long-hair who came out of nowhere on Sunday and—?”

  “He didn’t come out of nowhere. He came off a bus. Though I didn’t notice it at the time, I mean, I don’t remember seeing the bus, he just told me later—”

  “What’d you do, give this guy your number while you were sitting there on the ground and—”

  “No, he just sort of walked away.” Maggie looked at Lindy whose eyes were now saucer-sized. Maggie had enjoyed teasing her, but the lateness of the hour prevented her from carrying it any farther. She briefly related how she’d unexpectedly run into J.D. on Monday, how she’d seen him Monday night and then last night.

  “Who’d ever believe it. Maggie Callahan, shacked up with the singer from a rock-and-roll band.” Lindy’s expression was sheer incredulity.

  Maggie laughed and pushed her chair back. “It does sound a bit unlikely, I admit.”

  “Unlikely isn’t even the word, Maggie. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard of. He must be some guy.”

  “He is.”

  They walked back into the hallway and turned toward the steps. Hearing the opening drum solo and the wild response from the crowd, Maggie knew the band was onstage and beginning its performance. She half dragged Lindy, moving as quickly as she could through the congested concourse to the doorway to the box. They took their seats as J.D. began to play.

  “That him?” Lindy whispered.

  Maggie nodded.

  “He looks short,” she observed, assessing the figure behind the keyboard.

  “He’s not real tall,” Maggie nodded.

  Lindy looked around the barely lit area. “Anyone here have binoculars, do you think? I want to get a good look at this guy.”

  “You’ll see him later. Do not humiliate me by asking if anyone has binoculars, please.” Maggie giggled. “Just shut up and listen.”

  J.D. was singing now, and Lindy raised her eyebrows to signal she liked what she heard.

  “Guy’s really good,” whispered Lindy, “I mean, really good.”

  “Yes. Now be quiet.”

  They sat and listened, then stood and applauded with the rest of the audience when the ninety-minute set had concluded. The enthusiastic crowd was loath to let the band leave the stage, and they played two more songs, then stood at center stage one last time to acknowledge the screaming ovation they received.

  “The band is great, Maggie. And the girls at work were ri
ght. The guitar player is stunning.”

  Maggie laughed. “Rick Daily. He’s a real character. And just about your speed.”

  “Let’s go get a drink, Maggie. I am positively dying to hear the rest of this story.”

  Maggie was deep in conversation with Lindy when J.D. entered the bar, his hair still wet from the shower he’d taken hastily in an effort to waste as little of his last night in Philadelphia as possible.

  “Hi,” Lindy said as he sat down, “I’m Lindy Burton.”

  “J.D. Borders.” He smiled and turned his attention to Maggie, whispering, “How long do we have to stay here?”

  She shook her head, seeing the light in his eyes and replied, “Not long.”

  He ordered a drink, and Maggie watched as he furtively admired Lindy from across the table. When his eyes strayed back to Maggie, she’d raised an eyebrow to let him know she’d caught him giving her friend the once-over.

  “She’s Daily’s type, not mine,” he confided into her ear, “lean, mean, and flashy. And frankly, I’m wondering how we’ll get rid of her.”

  Before Maggie could respond, Rick appeared out of nowhere, and J.D. grinned broadly, knowing that he need not be concerned about having Lindy on his hands for the rest of the evening.

  “Can I get one of those?” Rick asked the waitress as she put J.D.’s drink on the table and he pulled up a chair and sat down. “I’ve been sent as a one-man delegation to talk you two into joining us back at the hotel. The rest of the guys think it’s criminal that you’ve kept Maggie to yourself these past few days. You’re welcome to come, too, of course,” he added to Lindy, not for a second oblivious to the beautiful blonde with the million-dollar smile and the big blue eyes seated next to Maggie.

  They sat and talked but were constantly interrupted by fans passing the table who could not resist stopping and telling them how great the show had been. After a long fifteen minutes, J.D. turned to Maggie and said, “Let’s go home.”

  “Oh, Maggie…” Lindy pleaded with her.

  “Doesn’t mean you have to leave, Lindy. You want to come over to the hotel with me?” Rick flashed his best smile.

  He didn’t have to ask her twice. With a wink in Maggie’s direction, Lindy rose and draped her jacket over her shoulder. Rick appeared bewitched as all five feet ten inches of the perfectly proportioned leggy blonde emerged from the chair.

  “Last chance, J.D.” Still mesmerized by the incredible legs barely covered by Lindy’s short skirt, Rick obviously couldn’t have cared less at that point what J.D. would do with the rest of the evening.

  “Thanks anyway.” J.D. shook his head. “Ready, Maggie?”

  Traffic was heavier than she’d anticipated. The long line of cars waiting for the bridge seemed to take forever to move, the river of headlights flowing slowly to the roadway below. They stopped at a light, and J.D. put his hand on the back of her neck, tracing little circles on her skin with his fingers. She felt the heat from him in even the small touch and wished the light would turn. That dizziness he always made her feel washed over her, her body responding down to her toes.

  “Are we almost there?” he asked, the twinkle in his eyes clearly indicating what was on his mind.

  She cleared her throat. “A few more blocks.”

  “Good.”

  By the time she’d unlocked the apartment door, the anticipation was unbearable.

  They were half in the hallway, half in the doorway to her bedroom. The hall light was on, the rest of the apartment in darkness. He pushed her jacket off over her shoulders, and she left it on the floor where it landed. He reached for her, and they held each other.

  “I do not want a beer, just in case you were about to ask,” he teased, then kissed her neck, starting under one ear and moving around her throat to the other, then kissed lower on her neck, then lower. She thought she’d die from the ache that was growing rapidly inside her. She moved backward into the room, backed up to the bed, and he took every step with her, still kissing her, his hands undressing her and hers undressing him. She prayed she would not black out, as she feared she might, from the unbelievable rush that was overtaking her.

  Afterward, they lay in the darkness with only the light from the street lamp outside the window to illumine the room, listening to each other’s breathing, still holding on to each other. Neither could let go.

  “Shazzam,” he said finally, and she laughed. He rubbed the side of her face with his and murmured, “That was so good, Maggie, so good.”

  She ran her fingers through his hair, trying to find her voice.

  “Ah, Maggie, this is how I want to spend my life. Sing for a few hours every night, come back here, and make love to you, just like this.” He nuzzled her face.

  “Jamey, do all the guys in your band use drugs?” she asked unexpectantly.

  Startled, he looked down at her. “What? Well, yes, I suppose they do to one degree or another.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes,” he admitted, wondering what had caused her to ask.

  “To what degree?”

  “Sometimes to a very high degree.”

  “Why?” she ignored his play on words.

  He pondered the question for a moment. “I don’t know, I never really gave it much thought. I guess because sometimes there’s nothing else to do. Because sometimes the whole thing gets to me, and the loneliness is more than I can deal with and nothing else makes it go away.”

  “You could kill yourself.”

  “I don’t use things that could kill me.”

  “What do you use?”

  “Mostly hashish.”

  “I don’t understand why someone like you needs to do that.”

  “Maggie, it’s so easy for you to sit there and say that, so easy for you to pass judgment. You have a pretty nice life, you know? A good job, your apartment, friends who are always there for you. Look, you have no concept of what it’s like to be on the road for eight, ten months in a row. It takes me weeks to recover from it every time. It is the loneliest life you could imagine. You never have the time to establish any relationship that can last, because you’re never in one place long enough to really get to know someone well enough to develop any kind of connection that—”

  He stopped in midsentence as she tensed slightly.

  “Oh, no, Maggie, no, no, I didn’t mean this time. This time is different. You’re different. I’ve never met anyone who’s made me feel the way you do. I don’t understand it, and I don’t know why it’s happened, but I swear it’s never happened to me before. All these years, it’s never happened like this.”

  “Jamey, you don’t have to say things that…”

  “Maggie, it’s the truth. And the real truth is that it scares me to death. I don’t know what to do about you.”

  He ran his fingers up and down her arm absentmindedly, the silence building with the tension that spread through her. She’d tried to find words to ease the situation, not wanting to hear him utter some stock line, but she could not think of one intelligent thing to say, and so she lay in his arms, fighting a sudden, unexplainable urge to cry.

  “Maggie,” he said after a time, “over the past ten years I’ve been with dozens of women, some whose names I didn’t even know, and I never gave a damn if I ever saw any of them again. Being with you is different… I don’t think I ever made love with anyone in my life until last night. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  “It won’t end with tonight, you know that, don’t you?”

  She nodded slowly and, without a word, drew him to her again. When they both fell asleep, much later that night, they were both at peace.

  “Jesus!” J.D. woke with a jolt. “What the hell was that?”

  Maggie had gotten out of bed and accidently knocked over the table holding the lamp and phone, all of which crashed to the floor. J.D. put his pillow over his head.

  “Sorry.” She giggled as she retrieved the fallen items. “I’m so sorry.�
��

  “What time is it, dare I ask?” The voice from under the pillow was muffled.

  “It’s six-thirty.”

  “Why are we up so early?” he grumbled, emerging from beneath the pink-and-blue-flowered pillow to look at her.

  “I can’t help it. My body is just used to getting up at an early hour.”

  “I think a bit of reprogramming is in order,” he muttered somewhat crankily.

  Laughing, she went into the bathroom and, when she came out, found him watching the doorway for her. She smiled and walked into the room.

  “Want some coffee?”

  “Too early,” he shook his head. “I don’t want to wake up yet.”

  “You have to wake up. You have to come with me when I leave today, you know. I’ll drop you off at the hotel. Do you know what time the bus is leaving?”

  “No, but they won’t go without me.”

  “Come on.” She poked him. “You have to get up, Jamey.”

  “Why don’t you come back to bed for a while? We have plenty of time.” He reached out and grabbed her arm and pulled her down to him.

  “Maybe for ten minutes…”

  “Don’t put that kind of pressure on me, Maggie. Ten minutes isn’t quite enough…”

  The ride to the hotel was a bleak one, neither he nor she could think of anything to say. He kept his hand on her shoulder the whole way, memorizing her face and all its expressions. Before they knew it, they were in the hotel parking lot, and she had pulled up near to the entrance to the building.

  He made no move to get out of the car, simply rubbed her shoulder as if his touch could tell her the things that eluded words.

  “Jamey, I have to get to work.” She did not meet his eyes. Her voice was low and a little shaky.

  “Maggie, I’ll call you…”

  She tried to smile good-naturedly.

  “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not a line, Maggie,” he protested. “Do you really think I could walk away from you and never come back?”

  He leaned over and held her face, studied it, kissed it.

  “Come on, lover boy. The bus is leaving. We were wondering when you’d show up.” Rick tapped on the window. “Good morning, Maggie.”