A Little Night Music (12 page)

“Hey, Jerry,” Nate said. The two men engaged in a brief back-slapping hug. “I really appreciate this.”

“No problem, man,” the DJ said. He wore jeans and a red Henley shirt with the station’s logo on the breast. His voice was as smooth and mellow as it sounded on air.

“I’m thrilled you’re touring again,” Jerry went on.

“I’m pretty excited myself,” Nate said. “Jerry, you know my PR maven, Hannah Montgomery.”

“Hey, Hannah, good to see you.”

They’d met in passing over the years, working in the same music circles, and of course she’d set up this interview. If he was curious why she was on-site with Nate, he didn’t ask.

“You too, Jerry,” Hannah said. “Do we have a few minutes before we start?”

“Sure. I don’t go on until six.”

They went to the sound booth where he’d be conducting the interview.

“I want to reiterate that we’ve got a few requirements,” Hannah said. “Some topics are off-limits. While it’s okay to positively spotlight Nate’s rehab, no questions about drugs or his past drug use. We want to keep this upbeat. Highlight the new album, the new tour.”

“You know I’m on your side, man,” Jerry said to Nate, but Hannah sensed a slight hesitation. “I only want the best for you. But if I ignore stuff…listeners are gonna wonder.”

Nate shrugged. “The rehab’s okay. If you have to talk about the drugs, then talk about my work with Options and their anti-drug campaign. I don’t want a rehashing of the past, Jerry. I want to move on, focus on the future.”

“Those are our conditions,” Hannah said. “Focus on the fact that Nate’s clean and healthy and going out on tour again.”

The show’s producer waved a hand, letting them know Jerry would be on in a few minutes. They settled in, slipping on headphones. When Hannah made the move to leave, Nate caught her eye and shook his head. He wanted her to stay. She crossed one leg over the other, aware that the handkerchief hem of her skirt played peek-a-boo with her thigh.

Jerry did his opening spiel, said Nate was coming up, took a trivia quiz call, and played a commercial before it was time for the interview.

“We have the legendary Nate Fox in the studio this morning,” he purred. “Nate, we’re thrilled to have you here. How’ve you been?”

“Doing great, Jerry,” Nate said. “It’s good to be talking to you again.” Beneath the counter, his fingertips caressed Hannah’s thigh, teasing aside the silky fabric of her skirt.

Hannah bit her lip. It had been only a week, but far too long since she’d touched him,
really
touched him. She needed to feel him pressed against her… She resisted the urge to scoot her chair closer so he had better access.

“I’m excited about going on tour again,” Nate was saying. “I love playing live—I love the give-and-take with the fans, the feedback of energy we give each other. We’re going to have a lot of fun with this one.”

Nate was good, Hannah realized. She’d never really thought about that before, how he handled the media. How he put on the public face. He knew what to say. He sounded good, positive, and it was all true.

She’d seen him on stage. It was obvious he loved performing more than anything.

“You’re touring based on a new album,
Cannibal Eyes
,” Jerry said. “A CD of cover songs—that’s a new direction for you, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. It’s an album of songs that influenced me when I was younger—songs that meant something to me, that made me want to do this crazy job.”

“Some of your fans are itching for new music,” Jerry said.

“We’ll focus on that after this tour,” Nate said. His tone was easy, but he moved his hand away from Hannah’s leg. “The tour will be a combination of tunes from
Cannibal Eyes
as well as a lot of my hits—the fan favorites. I may even pull out a B-side or two. You’ll just have to come out and see the show.”

“I plan to do that,” Jerry said. “I never miss a Nate Fox extravaganza. Right now, we’re going to play a track from the new album,
Cannibal Eyes
. This one’s called ‘Panama,’ and I don’t have to tell you who sang it originally, do I?”

They all slipped off their headphones for the duration of the song.

“I love your version of this,” Jerry said. “It’s a whole new take on the song, but it’s still honest to the original. That’s not an easy combination.”

“Thanks,” Nate said.

“Good thing to mention,” Hannah said, and Jerry did when they were back on air.

It was going well, Hannah decided. Jerry was enthusiastic, Nate well spoken. The songs spoke for themselves.

Jerry played “Dragons of Winter,” one of Nate’s biggest hits. She loved that one.

“So, Nate,” Jerry said. “How are you approaching this tour? You’ve been through rehab, but being on the road must have its temptations.”

“One day at a time, Jerry, one day at a time,” Nate said smoothly. “I’ve made mistakes, and I acknowledge them. But like I said, the real high of touring is being on stage, and the interaction with the fans. I’ve missed them, and I’m looking forward to the connection again. There are always some familiar faces out there.”

He glanced at Hannah as he spoke. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks. Did he remember seeing her in the crowd before? Did he know what his music did to her?

“Fantastic,” Jerry said. After playing another song, he went on. “So, Nate, you’re the fantasy of women worldwide. Is it true you haven’t been in a relationship since Suzanne Cooper?”

Hannah choked on her own breath. Nate’s face twisted in anguish, and she wanted to climb over the desk and punch Jerry in the face.

It was a low blow to bring it up. She thought they’d made it clear that Nate’s past wasn’t to be discussed.

Instead of following her first desire to smack Jerry into next Tuesday, Hannah went with another, stronger instinct. Beneath the desk, she put a hand on Nate’s leg. Comforting. Reassuring. Letting him know she was there for him and that she understood.

“Suzanne’s death changed a lot of things in my life,” Nate said, surprising her when he answered Jerry’s question. His fingers twined with hers. The warmth of his grip reassured her.

The DJ’s eyebrows went up. It was obvious he hadn’t been sure if Nate would answer the question. Avoiding Hannah’s angry gaze, he went on. “You were never charged in the accident, were you?”

“
I wasn’t driving,” Nate said. “We were both high, but she was behind the wheel. Since negligent stupidity isn’t a crime, no charges were brought. I got off with hardly a scratch, and she died.”

“And you went into rehab?”

“Yeah. Three months of hell—but it was worth every second of it.”

“Are you worried that the pressures of the road will make you slip? Sex, drugs, rock and roll, you know.”

“No,” Nate said. He leaned forward, his eyes holding Jerry’s as if by convincing the DJ, he could convince the world. “I’m clean, and I’m staying that way. There won’t be any other casualties in my life.”

Jerry nodded slowly. “Thanks for being honest, Nate. But you still haven’t answered one question. Are you seeing anybody now? If you’re not, you’re going to raise the hopes of your fans everywhere.”

His tone was light, as if he were trying to soften the previous blow. It was too little, too late, Hannah thought, but it was better than nothing. She still intended to strangle the man until he begged for mercy. And then a little bit longer, for good measure.

“Let’s just say I’m exploring my options right now, Jerry,” Nate said. “I’m not quite ready to bring my personal life into the spotlight. That’s reserved for my music. The tour is my main focus, which starts in Las Vegas in two days.”

Good job
, Hannah mouthed at him. He gave her hand a squeeze. Her reaction to his touch was entirely unprofessional, but she managed to keep it to herself.

“Let’s take a caller,” Jerry said. “Hi, you’ve got a direct connection to Nate Fox.”

“Hi, Nate,” a woman’s voice said. “This is Helen.”

Hannah pursed her lips. Why was that name familiar?

“Hey, Helen,” Nate said. “What’s up?”

“It was great seeing you in San Francisco last week,” Helen said.

Oh!
That
Helen. Was she some sort of stalker? Hannah wondered. But Nate seemed unconcerned, treating Helen as if she were a familiar part of his life.

“Thanks,” he said. “It was great seeing you, too. Thanks for coming out. It’s good to be touching base with the fans again. What’s your question?”

“I was wondering about your choice of including “Renegade” on
Cannibal Eyes
,” Helen said. “What kind of inspiration was Styx for you?”

If Hannah weren’t kind of jealous of Helen, she might want to hire the woman. She knew the right questions to ask.

Nate talked more in depth about his early influences, and then Jerry queued up another song.

“Not cool, Jerry,” Hannah said as soon as the song started and they could take off the headphones. “Bringing up the accident.” And Suzanne. She didn’t want to think about Suzanne, and Nate certainly didn’t, although for different reasons.

“I can’t ignore what happened,” Jerry said. “I told you that. I didn’t ask about the accident, okay? Just about who he’s dating now.”

“You could have left Suzanne out of it and just asked about the present,” Hannah snapped.

“It’s okay,” Nate said. His face was a neutral mask that she couldn’t read. She didn’t like that one bit. “It’s over. Let’s just move on.”

She wanted to distract him. She needed to. He was keeping up a fantastic public front, not letting the listeners know how he was really feeling. From a PR front, she couldn’t ask for anything better.

On a personal front, however, she couldn’t bear to see him this way.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

A quick trip to the ladies’ room was all she needed.

Andre stood in the hall, leaning against the wall in a casual manner that Hannah knew was a front. He could snap her like a twig if he wanted to. She promised herself to always stay on his good side.

“Keeping the crazed fans at bay?” she asked on the way back from the rest room.

He smiled, teeth flashing. Definitely a man who’d had whitening done, along with his usual manicure.

“Well, one of the Marketing people has walked by five times so far, but I think he’s just attracted to the smell of my cologne.”

“Like flies to honey,” Hannah said.

“Don’t you know it.”

Inside, Nate was playing something live on his guitar. His eyes were closed as he leaned towards the microphone. His shoulders were still tense, though.

She waited until the On Air sign went off again, and slipped back into the sound booth.

“Everything okay?” she asked, and both Nate and Jerry nodded. Neither looked unduly upset, which she hoped meant Jerry hadn’t set off any more bombs.

“You okay?” Nate said quietly to her as she sat back down.

“I’m great,” she said, and palmed him her silk panties. “You?”

His sharp intake of breath told her more than words ever could.

It was more daring than she’d ever been. Oh, she’d gone without underwear once on a boyfriend’s dare, and once again when she couldn’t find her thong after her night at Nate’s. But her boldness in passing off her underwear to Nate surprised her.

And thrilled her.

Distraction had been her goal, to pull him out of the morass of bad memories and negative emotions. His arousal was just pure reward.

Even though her skirt was beneath her, she was more aware of the chair’s leather seat, and certainly the sensation of her skirt’s fabric on her ass. She crossed her legs, her clit tingling. She had managed to turn them both on.

The next caller wanted to know if Nate’s tour would be coming to Cleveland, and the one after that asked about Les Paul versus Gibson guitars. Although Hannah couldn’t see Nate’s hand, she could tell from the way his bicep flexed that he was toying with the scrap of silk as he talked.

“We’ve got time for one more song,” Jerry said. “This is from the platinum album
Strange Desires
. I’m sure you’ll all recognize the song of the same name.”

After the show, Jerry apologized again, citing the program manager’s insistence.

“We got through it,” Nate said. “I know you’re getting pulled from both ends, Jerry. I appreciate the air time.”

“Take care, man,” Jerry said. “I’ll be at the Forum show.”

“See you on the flipside.”

Hannah shook hands with Jerry, saying essentially what Nate had, and then they fell into step down the hall.

“Naughty girl,” Nate murmured in her ear. “I’ve had panties thrown at me on stage before, but I’ve never had them passed to me during a radio spot.”

“I just wanted to distract you,” Hannah said.

“Oh, you did that, all right. In spades.” He leaned close. His breath against her ear, fluttering her hair, aroused her as much as his next words: “I want you, Hannah. I need you. Soon.”

“Well, you’ll just have to hold on to that thought,” she said, wishing just as desperately that they could be alone. She wanted to lick her way down his chest, and when he couldn’t take anymore, climb on top of him and ride him until they were both sated. “We’ve got two newspaper interviews and one phone call with
Rockdawg
magazine before noon. Then you have to meet the rest of the band for a rehearsal. And somewhere in there, Sam said something about last-minute wardrobe fittings.”

He groaned.

“I want you just as bad,” she admitted. “Tonight. My place. I’ll feed you.”

“And I’ll eat…whatever you offer,” he said, and she would have stumbled if he hadn’t caught her arm.

*

“Nice,” Nate remarked, following Hannah into her condo. The door led to an open floor plan, the large living room flowing into the kitchen and dining area. Plush rugs in bold colors covered areas of the shining wood floor. The last of the day’s sunshine spilled into the room through glass doors leading to a balcony, beyond which he could see the Hollywood Hills.

“Thanks.” Hannah smiled over her shoulder while she dumped her attaché case onto the table by the door. “Why don’t you make yourself at home? I want to change and then get dinner ready.”