XXIII

Ten days later, Richie and Frédérique parked in front of Jon’s house. The band had agreed to meet there: they were launching their next tour to promote the new record with a series of shows at the New Meadowlands Stadium in just a few days. When Jon had talked to Richie on the phone to arrange the meeting, he had “hinted” that Frédérique could maybe bring some of the wine she had brought the previous time.

“Let me help you with that”, said Jon as he came out to meet them, taking a few quick strides towards the truck.  Frédérique was holding a box and Richie was taking another one from the back cabin floor. Jon took the one in Frédérique's arms: “Thank God you’ve brought some more, I was going through withdrawal syndrome”.

“So you finally drank ALL the bottles in your cellar AND you want more?” Richie teased Jon as the three walked towards the door, then shook his head with mock disappointment: “I knew you were a greedy bastard”.

Frédérique chuckled at their interaction but couldn't help but ask: “You’ve got a wine cellar?”

“Yeah” , Jon answered carelessly, “wanna take a look?”

“Of course, I’d love to”, said Frédérique with excitement: they were practically her playground as a child.

Richie gave the box to Frédérique and said: “I’ll leave you two to it then, I’m gonna go say hi to the guys”. He had seen the other band members’ cars parked outside. “I take it they’re at the studio?” he added after pulling Frédérique's face to him by her jaw and giving her a smooch.

Jon nodded and then turned to Frédérique, tilting his head to the space behind him: “Follow me”.

They walked down a corridor until Jon stopped, switched on a light and started walking down a flight of wooden stairs with stone walls to a red door with a lightbulb over it. Jon held the box with one of his arms, resting it on his hips, and with his free hand he opened the door.

“It’s so pretty”, said Frédérique in awe as soon as she walked in. There was a main chamber with two dark green leather armchairs, a table and a tall wooden cabinet. Jon turned on another light and Frédérique could see that there was another chamber separated from the main one by a shield of glass that ran from floor to ceiling. She took a look around: on the right of the glass wall she could see a glass door and the electronic controls that regulated the heat and humidity inside the storage chamber. The whole wall was covered with bottles stored horizontally but with the neck slightly tilted down towards the floor, there were different colors of bottles and different labels hanging from the necks.

They put the boxes on the table and started to take the bottles out.

“So, how was California?”, Jon asked as they were at their task, “Richie told me you went there?”

“Yes, it’s pretty but…not my kind of town actually”

“I’m totally with ya on that one”, Jon agreed and moved on to the storage room and began placing them on the shelves as Frédérique handed them to him.

“I only stayed two days, though, I had lots of work to do back here”.

“Did you meet his daughter?” Jon asked

“Yes, I did”, Frédérique answered, “she’s gorgeous”.

She also briefly remembered having been to the fashion line’s headquarters and meeting Nikki, seeing her subtle territorialism towards Richie, and immediately discarding the observation when she saw Richie’s interaction with the other women in the building, and the effect he seemed to have in them. She secretively smiled, who could she blame? It worked with her, too.

After a few moments Jon spoke again.

“I think we’re done here”, and motioned to the main chamber after slapping his hands against each other to take the dust off. “Thank you for the wine, Fred, it’s delicious”, he paused and then continued, “and you are more than welcome here”.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t-“ Frédérique shook her head and smiled politely.

“Please”, Jon interrupted her as they were walking out. He spoke in a mockingly stern voice, waggling his index finger at Frédérique before closing the door behind him: “But keep your hands off the Pinot Grigio: that one’s off limits”.

Then they both laughed their way up the stairs.

…

That night Frédérique was too excited to sleep. Richie had walked her through the schedule for the upcoming tour, and Frédérique was excited to finally be able to attend a huge arena show, and most of all, she was excited to see Richie in action with the band. Richie had sung for her a couple of times the days she stayed in California - she smirked when she remembered the time he had sung “I’ve just seen a face” one afternoon on the terrace by the pool. Richie and his guitar and his voice: perfection, she couldn't ask for anything more, but she wanted to experience all of it, all of him.

Frédérique had also bought the rest of the band’s discography, but only had time to listen to them lightly at work as low background music. Here and there some songs would call her attention and she’d listen to it again, but that was it.

At home at night, though, Frédérique had played Richie’s solo albums over and over again. That sweet, velvety incredible voice. One of the songs definitely called her attention after she realized she was actually aroused after listening to it, and she had spent all the next day humming while she continued working on the blueprints for the Pennsylvania house.

Down, down, down,

I wanna take you

Down down down...

...

At Jon’s house, laying on the bed watching Richie sleep Frédérique thought about her life and how Richie had turned her world around in a matter of weeks. She was alright with change, good or bad, but this one was specially good. She considered herself happy before she met him, but now she felt safe, relaxed. The last time she had felt that safe and comfortable was back home in Bordeaux, the summer before she moved to Paris to study.

But that seemed so far away, such a long time ago…Frédérique suddenly felt homesick.

She tiptoed downstairs and entered the cellar. She wouldn’t dare to open a bottle of wine, she just wanted to be there, to be somewhere that looked something like home. The moment she felt intrusive, Jon’s words and kindness came immediately to her mind. And his angel face - if at first she had been intimidated by him, now she realized she was absolutely comfortable around him: he was friendly and kind. So charming.

She sat down on one of the leather armchairs, hugging her legs folded in front of her with both arms and resting her feet on the edge of the seat. She relished in the memories of home: the smell of the moldy stone and young wine spilled on the floor, the soft buzz coming from the fermenting bottles, the woody smell of the barrels.

…

Frédérique woke up when she felt two warm hand pressing her arms just below her shoulders, and a soft, husky voice speaking:

“Hey”

She was so dead asleep that at first she just tried to shook them off so she could continue, but the voice spoke again with a soft chuckle.

“Sweetie, you’re freezing to death”

Without opening her eyes Frédérique confirmed that it was true, and she was trembling. She slowly opened her eyes and saw Jon’s face barely a couple of inches from hers, staring with those bright blue eyes from behind the courtain of blonde tresses that fell from his forehead.

Without moving a hair, she finally managed to ask softly:

“Quelle heure est-il?”, but at Jon's puzzled look she repeated: "Um...What time is it?"

“Well, it’s late…or early, depending on how you look at it”

Frédérique finally started incorporating herself from the armchair and took a look around to evaluate her situation.

“I’m sorry, I guess I fell asleep”, she said sleepily when she realized where she was.

“S’alright”, said Jon carelessly, but she looked wobbly so he helped her up by her wrists. “But for your own sake I just hope I don’t find an empty bottle of Pinot in the garbage…”, he finished with a sideways smirk, “...least of all the one I came looking for”

Frédérique couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. She stood with her mind still adrift for a second and then spoke lazily:

“I guess I’ll go to bed now”, and she moved forward to give Jon a hug “Good night?”

“Yeah, good night”. Jon returned the hug and he felt her nipples press against his chest through her white tanktop. Goddamnit.

Frédérique's brow furrowed slightly in an automatic response. Then, like a sleepwalker, she went back to bed and curled herself around Richie.