The Way You Make Me Feel (24 page)

T
hursday nights at Club Insomnia were always lively when Stevie sang. This night was no different. The crowd was larger than usual; two new waitpersons had been put on. Stevie came early with Damien and both were in high spirits.

Stevie sat in her dressing room putting the finishing touches on her face. Tonight she wore a raspberry slub-silk skirt with splits on the side and in front, displaying her fabulous legs. Her blouse was peach-pink, low-cut with wide ruffles. She turned her face up for Damien's kiss.

“That's for luck,” he said. “They're talking about you out there and it's all good.”

Jessi stuck her head in the door. “You've got a little while. Everybody's full of anticipation.” It was her first night back since the accident.

There were many bouquets of flowers from admirers and Damien's red roses graced her dressing table. At a soft knock, they looked at each other and Damien gave her another quick kiss before she said, “Come in.”

Stevie and Damien tensed as Honi came in, closed the door and stood with her back against it.

“I know I'm the last person you want to see and, yes, I'm ashamed to show my face, but there are things I
have
to tell you.”

Neither Stevie nor Damien spoke and Honi went on, swallowing hard. She looked at Stevie. “He's all yours. I'm not going to draw this out. Nothing happened that night you were hurt, and let me tell you how sorry I am you were hurt. Damien said I spiked his drink and I denied it, but he was right. I
did
spike his drink. I wanted to get back at you for taking him away from me.”

“I wasn't yours to take,” Damien said heatedly.

Honi nodded. “I know that with my clear mind now, but I wasn't thinking straight then. I set the whole thing up. Once we found Whip's mother wasn't as ill as we thought, I came up with my plan.”

“Did Whip know about this?” Damien demanded.

“No. It was me alone. And I'm sorry. I'm telling you two this because I want you to be happy. Garrett called me and he wants us to remarry and I want to. I'm not getting any younger and I want to try to give him the child he wants from me. Can you forgive me?”

Stevie reflected that this was a different Honi who stood before them, and Stevie had begun to believe in forgiveness. She nodded, and said slowly, “Give me time and I think I can forgive you.”

“I'll think about it,” Damien said. “You caused us a lot of unnecessary heartache. Stevie could have died.”

“Oh God, I know, and I'm sorry. Please let me stay on tonight to hold Whip's hand. He's a nervous wreck. He's recording tomorrow, and he wants to stay awhile to get more of Stevie's style under his belt. He admires you so.”

Stevie shrugged. “It's a free country. Why not?”

Honi left then and Stevie reflected that she looked haggard. No sooner had Honi shut the door than Stevie turned to Damien. “Think she's on the level?”

He sighed. “Maybe. With Honi, can you ever tell? At any rate, I like knowing that I was right. She
did
dope me up.”

Very thoughtfully Stevie said, “And I like having forgiven you before she admitted it. I like trusting you, lover. No, I
love
trusting you.”

Damien felt his eyes fill with moisture at her declaration of love.

 

The audience loved Stevie's pearly Zemaitis guitar and she delighted in showing it off. A young musician called out, “Man, if that gee-tar was mine, I'd carry a loaded shotgun with me at all times. It is bee-yoo-ti-ful.”

“Thank you. Now I've got a new song I want to introduce to you tonight. ‘I Love You, I Want You, I Need You,' and I hope you like it.”

The same man who had complimented her on the guitar sang out, “Anything you sing, Mama, we love.” And the audience took up the cry.

Stevie ran a few riffs over the strings and thrilling to the unearthly gorgeous strains of the guitar, she began.

The audience demanded an encore and she sang it again. At one point her eyes met Damien's and she blew him a kiss which he returned. She saw Honi and Whip sitting at a table; her eyes on them were cool. Whip saluted her and she nodded.

No one could enter the club while she was singing, but after she had finished, Jake, his bodyguard and his lawyer sauntered in and sat with Honi and Whip. Stevie reflected that although Whip was contracted with Damien, he certainly spent a lot of time with Jake. Birds of a feather, she thought acidly.

A woman stood up and began clapping softly. “We want ‘The Way You Make Me Feel,'” she began to chant and the crowd took it up. Laughing, Stevie strummed her guitar and began the much-admired song. And singing it, her mind was on Damien and the way he made her feel. Special. Wanted. Loved. Oh Lord, yes, loved!

Then Damien took the microphone. “Hey, I know we don't usually begin dancing until later, but I want to claim my woman for a dance. I miss her in my arms. There'll be plenty of time for more songs and you can sing along.”

Damien came and helped Stevie down from the stool and with the jukebox playing a Lionel Richie love song, he swept her away and out on the balcony. There was a half moon and a canopy of clustered stars. He kissed her then and her tender body trembled against his.

“Do you know how you make me feel?” he asked her.

“I only know how
you
make
me
feel. Damien, we've got it all now and I'm a little afraid. Happiness the way I'm feeling it now is a treasure. And treasures have to be guarded. They can be taken away.”

He kissed her throat. “Hush! We deserve every bit of this and nothing and nobody's taking it away.”

She relaxed against him. “With Keith back in prison and Detective Rollins thinking they can make a conviction against him stick, and Jake at least behaving himself, I feel safe again. Now if only I could remember what happened the night Bretta died.”

“Maybe if you stopped trying.”

“I
can't
seem to stop trying. I keep figuring it has to do with Jake. I'm still afraid of him, Damien.”

“Maybe you should be, but you know I'm always here for you.”

Two more couples came out on the balcony.

She laughed. “Oh Lord, not now. Everything's going too well. Let's go back in.”

 

Inside everything was heating up. The Sing-Along With Stevie segment was being announced. Five people had been selected from hundreds who had put in to have a chance to sing with Stevie here at Club Insomnia. Now, a smiling Jessi took the microphone to announce the winners. Four beaming people stood up before she announced Jake McGowan and Stevie's heart fell. Jake? At least he'd be the last one. She'd have time to pull herself together.

This was fun, she thought, as things got underway. The first woman had a surprisingly good voice and she chose to sing “I Don't Need You Anymore.” The woman's voice blended well with Stevie's and she was obviously pleased with her talent. When they'd finished, Stevie told her, “I have only one comment. Lady, you're good.”

The audience gave her an enthusiastic round of applause before a man was introduced and came onstage. He cleared his throat and ogled Stevie. Finally he gave her a broad wink. She took it all in stride and strummed her guitar. He wanted to sing “The Way You Make Me Feel,” and she obliged him.

The man's voice was somewhere between a frog's croak and a cricket's chirping and he kept mugging and hogging the spotlight. He tried to put his arms around Stevie, but she adroitly moved out of his way, dancing about the stage. The way he was making her feel was annoyed. Damien stood in the background, then moved closer.

The song ended and the audience gave a lukewarm response. The man look flustered and said to Stevie, “Don't I get a kiss for all this trouble?”

“You got to sing with me. What more do you want?” she answered archly.

He took it good-naturedly and found his way back to his seat.

She hadn't realized how anxious she was through the next two contestants until Jake lumbered up. He faced her onstage, eyes narrowed. He had been drinking and it showed. “Girl, you don't know how glad I am you pulled through all right. I was hoping all the time. I sent flowers tonight. You get them?”

She hadn't seen his flowers and didn't want flowers from him, but she nodded and thanked him.

“What would you like to sing?” she asked brightly.

He pitched her a curve ball. “How about ‘I Love You, I Want You, I Need You'?”

“But that's a new one,” she protested. “You're not doing yourself justice. You won't know the words.”

Jake's eyes narrowed. “You sang it and I had Honi copy the words. I know it all right. I felt lucky, that my name would be chosen, and if not now, some other time.”

She shrugged. “Okay.” Picking up her guitar, she turned and looked at Damien who gave her the thumbs-up. Turning back she began to sing.

Nothing was lost on the audience. They knew Stevie and Jake's history, and it amused them that they were singing this particular song with Damien very much in the background. Their money was on Damien. One thing, Jake had a smooth, husky voice and he sang with exaggerated feeling, crooning to a lost love.

When Jake had finished he took the mike from Stevie and intoned, “Yeah, baby, the way you make me feel. They don't call you the ‘Queen of Passion' for nothing. And I'm a man who knows.”

Stevie's body felt as if someone had poured red pepper on scraped flesh. How dare he? But everybody here knew Jake McGowan liked to play to the gallery. The audience gave him a big hand and he grabbed Stevie's hand and gave it a lingering kiss before he said, “They saved the last for the best.”

Stevie thought she'd get a last barb in. “No, not quite, Jake. The first lady was the best. I think you'll agree with that.”

He shook his head. “No, that honor is mine.” His bodyguard stood up. Maybe his boss was going to need help getting back to his table and Honi looked worried, but a proud Jake lumbered back to his table and sat down, grinning. Whip was enjoying it all.

Stevie had the mike then. “From time to time I ask you to name your favorite song and I'm doing it tonight. What's it to be?”

There were cries from various parts of the club. She clapped her hands for silence, then named several songs. There was a roar for “I Don't Need You Anymore,” and she nodded. Then she called out “The Way You Make Me Feel” and the crowd erupted. “Way to go!” and “Yeah, Yeah! Sing it now!”

When things had quieted, she laughed. “Well, you sure let me know how you feel. It looks like ‘The Way You Make Me Feel' wins the prize, edging out ‘I Don't Need You Anymore.'”

“Stevie!” a booming voice said from the sidelines.

“Yes.”

“Ain't nobody never gonna edge out ‘I Don't Need You Anymore.' Woman left me and that's my lifetime theme song. But I got a new woman and ‘The Way You Make Me Feel' mellows my old heart.
Everybody
likes that song. I—we all—want you to sing it with Damien the way you did in Atlanta.” He held up his hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, Stevie and Damien Steele and ‘The Way You Make Me Feel.'”

A smiling Damien picked up his Zemaitis guitar that had been by his side and joined Stevie as they launched into a loving rendition of “The Way You Make Me Feel.”