was uncomfortable and exquisite, and I was counting down the
hours before I could get home and release it.
“Whoa!” Robert shouted, waking me up. “You got soda all over the
tray!”
“I’m sorry!”
“Monica,” Debbie said, slipping her pen onto the top of the
clipboard, “come sit with me.”
She pulled me over to an empty table by the kitchen door. We
tried to keep it clear until the bar got too packed. I pressed my legs together
when I sat even though my skirt was long enough. I felt like she could see my
arousal.
Debbie placed her clipboard in front of her and leaned forward.
“What’s happening? You took the wrong order to Frazier Upton; you stepped on
Jennifer Roberg’s foot. That’s not how we do service
here.”
“Why did you do that, Debbie? Why did you set me up to meet
Jonathan upstairs?”
“I saw you looking at him the other night. I thought it would be
a nice surprise.”
“If you could avoid doing that again, that would be great.”
“Of course. I’m sorry, I thought I was doing you a favor.”
“You were. It’s just…” I looked at my hands in my lap. “He’s… I
don’t know.” I felt suddenly embarrassed talking about a man’s hold over me
with my manager. I should have been mad at her, but in the world I lived in,
she had done me a kindness, and it wasn’t like he’d raped me. I’d loved it. I hated
it ending when it did. “I just don’t need to be with anyone right now. Or ever.
I had this boyfriend, Kevin, a year and a little ago. He wouldn’t let me sing.
It was awful, but what I’m trying to say is, I don’t want to be that person
again.”
“Okay.” Debbie sat up straight. She pushed her long, straight
hair out of her face with a single, French manicured finger and got down to
business. “I am going to tell you things you need to hear, but don’t want to.
Are you okay with that?”
“Sure.”
“Jonathan Drazen is not going to stay with you long enough to
care what you do with your spare time. He is very attracted to you, that much I
can see. But he is in love with one woman, and one woman only.”
“His ex-wife.”
Debbie nodded. “When Jessica left, he begged her to stay. She
wouldn’t. He broke down at a shareholder meeting. It was ugly. He was
humiliated. He’s still humiliated. He
won’t put himself in that position again, I promise you. So if you like him, I
suggest you enjoy yourself with him. He will treat you very well, and then
you’ll go your separate ways. He can be a valuable friend.”
I nodded. I got it. I felt comforted, in a way, that I could meet
him later, have mattress-bending sex, then go home without worrying. I knew I
wasn’t getting involved, and if he had the same idea, I was safe.
Debbie gathered her things and started to stand, but I wasn’t
done.
“Why did she leave?” I asked.
“Another man,” she said, “and everyone knew it.”
“Ouch.”
Debbie nodded. “Ouch is right. It should never happen to any of
us.”
CHAPTER 7.
I hated gigs like Frontage. I had to sing songs someone else
wrote to people who weren’t there to see me. I had to sing through waiters
taking orders and customers being seated. I couldn’t sing too loud or I’d
disturb everyone, and I couldn’t improvise at all. Ever. I was background.
But it was money, if not a lot, and it was practice. It wasn’t as
if Vinny had shown up and booked anything fabulous.
It wasn’t as if he’d shown up at all in the past two weeks. I simply had nFothing else going on.
We had a dressing room with a smudged mirror and filth on
everything. Some time in the eighties, a tube of lipstick had been jammed into
the seam between the two pieces of plywood that made up the counter, and the
red goo that was out of reach of a folded paper towel had turned brown and
crusty. The carpet stank of beer vomit, and the bathroom had been casually
wiped down a few days previous. I felt like a superstar.
Gabby was already out there, tinkling the
hours before I could get home and release it.
“Whoa!” Robert shouted, waking me up. “You got soda all over the
tray!”
“I’m sorry!”
“Monica,” Debbie said, slipping her pen onto the top of the
clipboard, “come sit with me.”
She pulled me over to an empty table by the kitchen door. We
tried to keep it clear until the bar got too packed. I pressed my legs together
when I sat even though my skirt was long enough. I felt like she could see my
arousal.
Debbie placed her clipboard in front of her and leaned forward.
“What’s happening? You took the wrong order to Frazier Upton; you stepped on
Jennifer Roberg’s foot. That’s not how we do service
here.”
“Why did you do that, Debbie? Why did you set me up to meet
Jonathan upstairs?”
“I saw you looking at him the other night. I thought it would be
a nice surprise.”
“If you could avoid doing that again, that would be great.”
“Of course. I’m sorry, I thought I was doing you a favor.”
“You were. It’s just…” I looked at my hands in my lap. “He’s… I
don’t know.” I felt suddenly embarrassed talking about a man’s hold over me
with my manager. I should have been mad at her, but in the world I lived in,
she had done me a kindness, and it wasn’t like he’d raped me. I’d loved it. I hated
it ending when it did. “I just don’t need to be with anyone right now. Or ever.
I had this boyfriend, Kevin, a year and a little ago. He wouldn’t let me sing.
It was awful, but what I’m trying to say is, I don’t want to be that person
again.”
“Okay.” Debbie sat up straight. She pushed her long, straight
hair out of her face with a single, French manicured finger and got down to
business. “I am going to tell you things you need to hear, but don’t want to.
Are you okay with that?”
“Sure.”
“Jonathan Drazen is not going to stay with you long enough to
care what you do with your spare time. He is very attracted to you, that much I
can see. But he is in love with one woman, and one woman only.”
“His ex-wife.”
Debbie nodded. “When Jessica left, he begged her to stay. She
wouldn’t. He broke down at a shareholder meeting. It was ugly. He was
humiliated. He’s still humiliated. He
won’t put himself in that position again, I promise you. So if you like him, I
suggest you enjoy yourself with him. He will treat you very well, and then
you’ll go your separate ways. He can be a valuable friend.”
I nodded. I got it. I felt comforted, in a way, that I could meet
him later, have mattress-bending sex, then go home without worrying. I knew I
wasn’t getting involved, and if he had the same idea, I was safe.
Debbie gathered her things and started to stand, but I wasn’t
done.
“Why did she leave?” I asked.
“Another man,” she said, “and everyone knew it.”
“Ouch.”
Debbie nodded. “Ouch is right. It should never happen to any of
us.”
CHAPTER 7.
I hated gigs like Frontage. I had to sing songs someone else
wrote to people who weren’t there to see me. I had to sing through waiters
taking orders and customers being seated. I couldn’t sing too loud or I’d
disturb everyone, and I couldn’t improvise at all. Ever. I was background.
But it was money, if not a lot, and it was practice. It wasn’t as
if Vinny had shown up and booked anything fabulous.
It wasn’t as if he’d shown up at all in the past two weeks. I simply had nFothing else going on.
We had a dressing room with a smudged mirror and filth on
everything. Some time in the eighties, a tube of lipstick had been jammed into
the seam between the two pieces of plywood that made up the counter, and the
red goo that was out of reach of a folded paper towel had turned brown and
crusty. The carpet stank of beer vomit, and the bathroom had been casually
wiped down a few days previous. I felt like a superstar.
Gabby was already out there, tinkling the
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