XXXII

Richie’s phone buzzed on the table in his dressing room, the screen showed the name “Fred”. It rang five times and then stopped. After a few moments the phone beeped: “Voice message”.

Nikki stood in front of the table, staring wide-eyed with her arms crossed over her chest at Richie’s phone, and pondered her next move. I won’t let him get away this time. She extended her head towards the door to sharpen her hearing and check the voices coming from the corridor: Richie could be coming back from the showers any minute now. She had no time - she had to think and act quickly. Nikki took the phone and containing her breath, in a flash, erased both the register of the missed call and the message.

Then took in a deep breath, she would have to accelerate her moves: the previous time she had waited too long for Richie to make a move that never came, and Frédérique had come along and ruined all her chances, apparently for good. Now that she was finally - or at least temporarily - out of the way, Nikki wouldn’t miss another chance.

They had always been flirtatious towards each other, but then Richie was most of the time flirtatious with probably every woman he knew except for his mother. However, Nikki hoped that their parternship would give her some sort of advantage, and she waited to no avail and only to see Richie fall head over heels in love with that French woman that had come out of the blue. No, Nikki wouldn’t let her ruin things for her again.

She was retouching her lip gloss when Richie opened the door to the dressing room. He went straight to the cell phone and checked: nothing. He sighed and then him and Nikki  shared a couple of comments on the show while he put on his jeans and shirt – they were close enough to share this kind of intimacy and Richie was never a coy one when it came to nudity.

Richie was excited, the possibility of getting Frédérique back had inspired him again, and the show had been more than memorable. The band outdid itself inserting some pearls here and there in the setlist that made the fans go nuts and the general atmosphere had been outstanding.

Only a few minutes later they were ready to go: Jon was anxious to get home and have the next day off with his family and was thus rushing everybody out of the venue and on their way to the after party. At the bar the band did the usual P.R. for the first half hour and then Jon excused himself. He took a final look around the room to check that everything and everyone was in the right place and headed for the door. Richie and Nikki were talking to a woman that had approached them some minutes earlier to congratulate them on the summer collection, Nikki wasn’t as much “there” for Richie as the night before but she did seem a little more anxious than usual. Anyway, Jon was satisfied: nothing to worry about.

As soon as she saw Jon head for the door, Nikki excused herself and Richie and motioned for the bar. Jon had been a pain in the ass since she had arrived, always hovering around Richie like a falcon, and she felt how his eyes observed every one of her movements. Thank God he had left early that night. Nikki sat so she could have good visual access to the entrance across the room: if Frédérique was calling him, who knew if she wouldn’t show up there. It was a tiny possibility, but Nikki wasn’t let any detail escape her tonight. She asked for two beers and opened them then handed one to Richie.

“To a great show”, she said with a grin and clacked her bottle with Richie’s.

“Bottoms up!” agreed Richie before taking a couple of gulps of the beer. It had been a great show, indeed, definitely worth celebrating.

They had barely placed the bottles back on the bar when Nikki’s heart skipped a beat: Frédérique, that French bitch, was walking into the room. Nikki clasped Richie’s head with her hands and gave him a fiery kiss, entangling her fingers in his hair. Richie was caught too much off guard to react immediately, but after some moments he was able to pull away.

“That one’s for the guitar player”, Nikki smirked while she took the remains of her lip gloss from Richie’s lips with her thumb, then took it to her mouth and sucked it.

“Whoa, thanks” Richie replied with a smile, he was more than used to having kisses stolen from him, not that big a deal – though the fact that it was Nikki this time did surprise him in a way.

Then he remembered Frédérique’s lips, the pout she did with her mouth when she spoke French or in laughter. Yes, those lips were something else. The sting hit him again: she hadn’t called back and it was already late. Would she call tomorrow? He didn’t know, but it was Sunday and he had a day off so he would try to get her personally. Then he remembered the look in her eyes. Ow. He finished his beer and asked for another one: all he wanted was to soothe the sting, just for tonight, just enough to get him through to the next morning when he would go and fight for Frédérique.

While he followed his trail of thoughts, he ignored that Nikki kept her sight fixed on the door for a few moments and then turned her head back to Richie, a mischievous look on her face. Ding dong the French bitch is gone.

Two hours and navigable quantities of beer later Richie could barely stand on his feet. Nikki was staying with Richie at his apartment in Philadelphia, so she arranged for their vehicle to take them there. She put her arm around Richie’s waist and his around her neck and they walked towards the vehicle. Richie fell dead asleep on the drive to Philadelphia while Nikki studied the next moves in her plan: it was a no-brainer, she knew exactly what she had to do next, so she held her guard up until they arrived at the apartment.

Once inside the elevator, Richie realized where he was and that Nikki was hugging him.

“Thank God you’re here”, he said chuckling, his voice throaty and raspy, “or Lord knows where and who I’d have ended up with”.

Nikki didn’t answer and stiffened a smile, while she reached with her hands inside Richie’s jacket for the keys to the apartment. They entered and she dropped her handbag on the floor and helped Richie take his jacket off, then dropped it on the floor, too. She put her arm around his waist again and he automatically placed his around her shoulder as they walked down the corridor towards Richie’s bedroom.

Richie dropped on the bed, then rolled over on his stomach and hugged the pillow.

“I think you should get your clothes off” said Nikki softly.

“Nah...Nah” refused Richie, all he wanted was to enter the blackness, the nothingness, the numbness of sleep.

But Nikki insisted and pushing with both her hands on his hips, she rolled him over to lay on his back, then unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and peeled them off his legs by pulling from the bottom of the jeans. Then she leaned over to unbutton his shirt, letting her face hover over Richie’s. All he wanted was for her to finish and leave him alone to sleep, he wanted to sleep so bad he was desperate, so he closed his eyes and kept quiet while she worked on the buttons of his shirt.

Then she kissed him, softly at first by just pressing her lips against his but then started licking and sucking on them, while her hands fanned on top of his pecs. Suddenly, in his numb and troubled state of mind, it somehow made sense to Richie: she was a good friend, she was there for him, she cared for him, it was comfortable and familiar, and the sting wasn’t there.

Nikki sighed when Richie started returning the kiss. She couldn't let him get away this time.