Ch 34 ~ Smooth Talker

“Happy,” Rachel muttered, flipping through the closet in the master bedroom.  “In love.  What the hell does one wear that screams happy and in love to a bunch of paparazzi?  That’s appropriate for the ‘woman’ of a rock legend to wear to another rock legend’s concert?  In Las Vegas?  Ugh!”

Whatever it was, she had not packed it. 

Sure, she’d been photographed the last two nights on Jon’s arm, but those had been largely accidental situations.  Whatever photographer had been skulking in the area snapped a pic.  This time there was a choreographed agenda, so that made it feel different in her mind. 

If she were being truthful about it, Rachel wanted to look her best for the woman in Seattle selling her stories to the press.  She wanted that woman to know she was firmly in the past.  Forgotten.  It was a little obnoxious to think that way, and she knew it, but whoever the She-Devil was that had needed a friend’s help to satisfy Jon… well, she had it coming to her. 

At least that was the story Rachel told herself.  It had taken two women to keep his mind off of her that night.  That was the most positive spin she could put on it and still retain her sanity. 

Since she had no outfit that would flip that woman the proverbial bird, Rachel told Jon she was going shopping.  Like any good man who found himself in the doghouse, Jon dutifully dug out his wallet and passed over a credit card that she had no intention of using. 

But he didn’t need to know that. 

She accepted it with a smile, blew him a kiss, and headed for Crystals.

Drifting in and out of name brand clothiers, Rachel couldn’t find anything that spoke to her.  She didn’t want to look trashy-sexy, but she didn’t want to dress too dull either.  Since she was the “woman” of a rock star, and it was Las Vegas, she assumed there was a little leeway that she wouldn’t normally have.  Classically tailored and timelessly elegant was not necessarily appropriate or required.

But I’m not buying new shoes.

Whatever she found would have to go with the sexy snakeskin sandals that were in the suite. 

“Ooh,” she murmured to herself, spying a dress in the window of a little shop.  It was flowy with long-sleeves and a modest neckline, but it wasn’t conservative.  The free-flowing minidress hit at mid-thigh and the sleeves were cut out all the way down, only coming together at the wrist and the shoulder.  And it was black.

“Perfect.”

It had even more of an edge when she slipped on the shoes from Miami, she thought spinning in front of the suite’s bedroom mirror.  Those shoes just did something for her.  Gave her a little extra boost in the self-confidence department.  Given that she felt a little like the proverbial lamb being led to slaughter, a little extra boost in the self-confidence department was not a bad thing. 

She took a final look in the bedroom mirror and quickly ran over the advice Jon’s public relations manager had gone over with her earlier in the day.  He’d primed her to be ready for reporters saying all sorts of ugly things in order to get a response from her, but all Rachel had to do was smile and tune them out. 

No problem.  I can do that, right?  With Jon by my side looking good enough to eat, why should I care what anybody says or thinks?

“Stop frowning, Rach.  You look beautiful and there’s nothing gonna happen tonight that I can’t handle.  I promise.”  Jon’s voice interrupted her emotional mini-seizure.  When he stepped behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, she actually believed him.  “I’m really sorry I created this mess and, in case I haven’t mentioned it, I appreciate the way you’re handling it.”

Turning in his arms, Rachel brushed the mussed hair off his forehead and finger combed the hair behind his ears.  It was habit, she thought, for her to have her hands in that caramel-y head of hair she so loved, especially when offering him comfort. 

“Let’s not keep on with the ‘I’m sorry’ crap, okay?  You apologized and I accept.  I don’t need a pound of flesh on top of it.”

Jon’s eyes squinted completely shut and he briefly bit on his own lip trying to contain his thoughts from turning into actual words… but he just couldn’t help himself.  “Can I have your flesh on top of me?”

Rachel was tired of being a bitch.  She was tired of missing the easy affection and comradery that made them “them”.  And he was so adorable she didn’t want to resist him another second.

So she pulled his head down so he was close enough to kiss, without actually touching his lips.  “Let’s get through this public appearance thing before we talk about what we’re doing afterward, ‘kay?”

“Ooh!”  His eyebrows shot up toward his perfectly mussed hair and a spark brightened his shuttered eyes.  “So that means there’s hope I’ll actually get that ninety-eight pounds of Rachel flesh?”

“Oh, honey,” she purred with a wink.  “Ninety-eight pounds?  You are a PR genius.” 

                                                              

********************

Ken Sunshine had set up a path out of the hotel that would allow the absolute most exposure and opportunity to be seen, Rachel discovered.  The previous two nights when leaving the hotel, she and Jon hadn’t gone through the lobby or used the main entrance.  That was not the case this night, and they were definitely being noticed. 

Most of the cameras clicking away were embedded in cell phones that belonged to hotel guests and casual photographers, but the moment they stepped out into the night air, the true professional paparazzi were easy to spot.  With their enormous cameras and obnoxiously loud voices bellowing out an array of offensive questions, they weren’t exactly subdued.  In fact, they were aggressive as hell.  

“Good grief!” Rachel exclaimed, sinking into the backseat of their hired car.  “And I thought the trip to New York New York was bad.  That was insane!”

Jon squeezed her hand.  “It’s like I always say, babe:  being famous is a by-product of my job, but being infamous is a choice.  The celebrities who play it low key and go about their business like normal, everyday people have lives that aren’t so different from anyone else.  The ones you see splashed all over the news and tabloids every other day…  Well, that’s because they purposely get mobbed by the photographers.  They want to be seen.”

“And tonight we want to be seen,” she sighed. 

“Yeah, we do.”  He leaned over and kissed her cheek.  Whether by accident or design, Rachel was glad he left her lipstick intact as the vehicle pulled up to the entrance of Caesar’s Palace.  “Now brace yourself.  This round is going to be a little crazier.”

He wasn’t kidding. 

While it played into Jon’s game plan, the crush of photographers that circled them the minute they stepped out of the SUV was more than Rachel had anticipated.  Apparently, many a famous actor, musician or politician made their way to Caesar’s for Cher’s nightly show, and it was an easy buck for paparazzi who were willing to bide their time and stake out the limo stand. 

Two steps was all it took for her to feel ill at the vile things the press was shouting trying to get a response from Jon or her, and she found herself squeezing his hand in a death grip as he led her through the crowd.  He smiled into the cameras and she automatically followed suit, doing nothing more than that until they reached the elevator. 

When the doors slid shut, blocking the vultures away, they were momentarily alone, except for Matt, who was handling Jon’s security.  Even then, she didn’t speak, just slowly blew out the breath she’d been holding since they got out of the car.

Jon chuckled softly and crooked an arm around her neck, pulling her into his side.  “You did great, babe.”

Still frazzled, Rachel nodded mutely and follow him out of the elevator – where they were unfortunate enough to run into a new set of media.  This time, though, instead of being the traditional paparazzi, it was a reporter and camera crew from Entertainment Tonight doing a segment on Cher’s residency at Caesar’s. 

They were caught.  Jon could do nothing but stop and acknowledge them. 

Rachel reattached the smile to her face as she stopped just behind Jon on his right.  She expected him to release her hand and let her blend into the woodwork while he did his bit for the camera, but that was not the case.  His grip only got tighter and he used it to subtly pull her forward so that she was standing directly at his side.

Just in time for the reporter to start gushing into the camera like a used car salesman. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, look who just showed up in the belly of Caesar’s Palace!  Rock God Jon Bon Jovi himself!”

Rachel mentally rolled her eyes, but her expression never faltered as Jon flashed his press smile.  Now knowing her place in this exchange, she gave his hand a quick squeeze so that he could extend it to the reporter. 

“How ya doin’, pal?” 

Pal, she knew, was Jon’s ‘go to’ when he couldn’t remember someone’s name and he didn’t care enough to be reminded.  She’d heard him use it several times on this trip alone, while they were out on their FunFest. 

The two men spoke briefly of Bon Jovi’s tour, Cher’s longevity and finally….

“So, Jon… after nearly 30 years in the music business, women are still throwing themselves at you.  I wouldn’t think it would ever get old, but how does your recent sex-capade compare to those back in the day?  Is it still as exciting as it once was?” 

Jon’s acting background must have taken root in his subconscious, because Rachel found him to be flawless in both his body language and response. 

“The most exciting thing that’s happened to me in a long time is this lady right here.”  He turned and smiled down at her, bestowing an affectionate wink before turning back to his pal.  “Anything else comes in a distant second place.”

“What about the Viagra rumors?” the reporter pushed, digging into his sleazy bag of questions.

Again, Jon had no reaction other than the perfect one.  “I hear stock is up,” he quipped, his perfect smile returning to play.

“So, you’re denying the use of Viagra?”

“Listen, man…  I’ve got the number one tour in the world and I’ve got the number one girl in the world.  If you wanna talk about either of those, I’m your guy.  Viagra I’m not qualified to speak about.”   

He bestowed a quick pat on the reporter’s arm, granted him another flashy smile and uttered a “Good to see you, pal,” that would pass for sincere.  With that, he ended the ‘interview’, dismissing the man with the same flair he’d handled the obnoxious question. 

Matt immediately put out his arm, clearing the way for them to proceed down the passageway.  It was only a few feet before he pulled open a door and ushered them into a blissfully quiet VIP lounge, where Rachel finally felt safe to let out a sigh of relief. 

“Is the worst over?” she asked, angling her face upward with hope brimming in her eyes. 

Please let it be over.  I need a break and a shot of tequila.

“Probably,” he murmured with a soft smile and lightly brushed his fingertips over her cheek.  “You handled yourself like a pro, Rach.  I’m proud of you.”