XXIX

“I think you should push, Rich. Fight for her”, Jon told Richie as both men were sitting on an amplifier during sound check.

“No, Jon”, Richie let his head hang down over his chest and shook his head, “if I do that’s the last I’ll see of her, you didn't see the look in her eyes…she’s protecting herself, and I think it’s from me”

“What ya mean?” Jon frowned.

“I mean…can you blame her? She comes from a different world, she sees things in a different way…” Richie paused to find the words, “And she got sucked into this…shit, I understand if she doesn’t want to have anything to do with it". Richie opened his arms and looked around the stage: “This is great, yeah, but the press?…So much for a “normal” relationship, huh?”, Richie said sarcastically, quoting with his fingers.

Jon nodded silently, he had been able to handle press and privacy, but understood that his friend was more exposed due to his previous relationships. Both men remained silent for a minute, reflecting. Jon continued: 

“But what about Nikki?”, Jon ventured to ask, and tipped his head to the blonde woman that was speaking with his assistant on the other side of the stage. Jon was surprised when she had showed up the previous day to join the tour.

“Nikki’s a good friend – Richie nodded and looked down - she’s been there for me these days”.

“There?” Jon asked arching his eyebrows.

“Yeah, there, Jon. Just there”

…

Since Frédérique had made her appearance, Jon had managed to keep his interest at bay, trying to pick on every little detail to find a reason not to be attracted to her so it would be easier for him. Not only had he failed miserably, but had ended up even more attracted to her precisely because of those details. Richie was right: Frédérique was really something else.

But he had been a good boy: for his friend’s sake, he had behaved. After analyzing the situation, he thought it was better if he kept the distance by being “just polite”…and maybe a little intimidating - he knew he could be, a lot, when he wanted to - but somehow couldn’t get himself to do it, he couldn’t but just be nice and friendly with her, Frédérique was such a sweet lady. And she was tough, too - boy had she put Jon in his place a couple times - but carried herself with a kind of zen attitude that reminded Jon of his own wife.

They had also had more than one conversation regarding the foundation: Frédérique had a very refined eye for quality control and efficiency and had told Jon about the methods she used with her design team to achieve optimum results and had thus exposed many mistakes in the machinery and organization of the foundation - specially regarding work teams - input that Jon greatly appreciated. He had even thought about having her give a couple of lectures to the foundation staff.

Jon was thus now also officially concerned regarding his friend’s attitude: Richie was so afraid of loosing Frédérique that he was being maybe too cautious, thus risking loosing her, too. Richie was also clueless about what to do: how long was he going to wait? Jon couldn't make that decision for Richie, however, because it was Richie who had to live with the consequences. Jon reminded himself that he wasn’t going to intervene as long as it didn’t affect Richie’s performance and as long as he stayed out of trouble. Richie would be fine. Jon had to keep a close eye on him, that’s all.

That night during the after party, however, Jon’s alarm level went up a notch: Richie was drinking more than he should, and Nikki was “there” for him more than a good friend should. Worst of all, Richie was playing along with her. But it’s OK, Richie had some rough days and maybe it was OK that he unwounded a little bit with his girl friend. A little bit. By the time the evening was over they each went to their room, alone, and Richie seemed to be, though a little more drunk than usual, still holding it together. Jon admitted that he had himself had a few more glasses of wine than necessary, too, after all.

But why was Jon feeling this urgency? He couldn’t wait to see Richie act, fight for Frédérique, climb over that wall and make her listen to reason. She was a reasonable woman, she’d understand, there had to be way. Then Jon realized he was anxious not just because he wanted Richie to be happy. Fuck. Yes, Jon realized he cared for Frédérique, too. For her happiness, too. Jon couldn’t let that one piece of the puzzle escape his surveillance: maybe she wouldn’t listen to Richie – she was emotionally conditioned – but maybe she would listen to him.

As Jon lay in bed with his arm across his forehead, pondering the situation, he fell asleep.

The next day after he got out of bed, Jon went to check on Richie and knocked on his door, but no one answered. He called for Richie and waited for a few minutes: if he didn’t come out, he was going to find a way to get in somehow, but Richie finally emerged, looking like shit, and just managed to stick his head out. He promised Jon he was OK, he was just hangover and wanted to sleep it over since they had another show that night in Uncasville. 

Nikki.Suddenly Jon's late night ramblings fell into place in his head - Jon knew what came next: Richie would seek the company and comfort of someone familiar, someone close to him, someone that was “there” for him. Yeah, there. And it wasn't precisely him.

It was time to intervene: if Richie wasn't going to do something about it before it was too late, Jon would do it. Richie couldn’t let Frédérique go. Jon couldn’t let Frédérique go.