Chapter Twelve

Samantha blinked, sure she had heard him wrong. After a moment, she spoke.

“Richie, I think I have a bad connection. It sounded like you just asked me to sing on tour with you.”

Richie laughed, somewhat nervously. “I did ask you to sing on tour with us.”

Samantha stared at her desk, trying to make sense of that statement.

“On tour,” she repeated.

Richie confirmed. “On tour.”

“With you.”

“With us.”

“As in, on stage.”

Richie laughed, “Yes, darlin’, on stage. With a mic and earpiece and everything.”

Samantha realized she had stopped breathing. She felt lightheaded and slightly dizzy, and a million questions hatched in her brain, which was desperately trying to continue instructing her heart to beat, her lungs to breathe, and her hanging jaw to close. She stumbled over her words, unsure which question to ask or comment to make first.

“But…why?” was all she could think to say.

“I know it’s sudden. Believe me. Jon and I are surprised enough at ourselves for suggesting it. But we really think it would be a good way to not only add a bit of surprise into the set list, but also to explore your vocal talent. This is a perfect avenue to showcase what you can do.”

Samantha was speechless. Showcase what she could do? She sang in the friggin’ shower into a bar of soap!

“I only sang one song for you guys…” she stammered. “I sang the national anthem. A handful of lines – less than three minutes long.”

“I know, baby. Again, I realize this is a very sudden offer. But the idea just came to us, and we kick off the tour in a few weeks, so I had to at least ask if you were interested. As for your voice, don’t underestimate yourself, you can sing. You have a strong, solid foundation, and I know that with some help, you can knock ‘em dead.”
Samantha had difficulty swallowing all of this. But she forced herself to speak, “What are we talking here – solos?”

“No no, duets. Jon and I briefly ran through some of the songs we could harmonize - we’ll have to test the waters first and get a feel for which ones you’re strongest at, but we have a general idea.”

“Okay…but…how many songs would I do? I mean, the audience is paying for a Bon Jovi concert, don’t you think they’d be confused – and probably angry – if a stranger joined you guys on stage? I know I would be. Well maybe. And what about –”

“Whoa, slow down, baby!” Richie laughed. “We’ll discuss the finer points and all the details later. We’re thinking just a song or two, and I personally believe the majority of the audience will love it. Don’t worry. For now I just want to know if you’re interested.”

Samantha ran a hand through her hair and looked around her desk. It did sound rather exciting, when she thought about it. Just the basic idea intrigued her, but she wasn’t ready to commit to anything just yet. “Well, yeah, I’m interested…” she said slowly. “But – ”

“Great!” Richie exclaimed, obviously pleased and relieved. “We can meet with Jonny this weekend and talk about it some more – are you free?”

“Hang on buddy!” Samantha’s voice rose. “I didn’t say I would do it! I said I was interested. And I am. It sounds interesting.”

“Right,” Richie replied. “I know, I understand. But we still need to talk with Jon and give you a feel for what will go down. If you do it, I mean.”

Samantha narrowed her eyes. She could clearly hear the mischief in Richie’s voice, and she suddenly had a feeling she’d end up doing this whether she wanted to or not. She finally sighed, half exasperated, half enthralled.

“All right, yeah I’m free this weekend. Saturday?”

“I’ll pick you up at ten. Have a great day my love!”

Samantha smiled and rolled her eyes. “All right - bye!”

She returned the phone to the cradle and sat gazing at it, unfocused for a minute. She was warming up to the idea more and more now, and it really did sound exciting. She had always dreamed of singing in front of a real audience (not a school auditorium full of parents and teachers), but she never, ever, ever, in a million years thought it would EVER happen. And now she was faced with the opportunity to make it do so. An opportunity presented, moreover, by her famous rock star boyfriend.
She shook her head, disbelieving. Life is full of surprises, right?

Yeah, THAT was an understatement.

____________________________

Samantha spent the next few days going about her routine as usual, trying to think of Saturday as just another date with Richie. She didn’t mention anything to James, Alex, or her mother, partly because she didn’t want to get their hopes up, and partly because she didn’t want to get hers up.

At ten o’clock sharp on Saturday morning, Richie knocked on her door and greeted Samantha with a big, playful kiss. He was in an amazingly high-spirited mood, and he ushered her to the car with the air of someone who had the biggest, coolest present under the Christmas tree.

“We’ll go to my place,” he informed her as he started the engine. “Jon’s not in the Hamptons this weekend, and the kids are all home so he says his place would be a madhouse,” he chuckled. “Which is totally true.”

They made their way out of Manhattan and into New Jersey, pulling up to Richie’s place in Red Bank just before noon. Jon’s Aston Martin was already parked outside, and they found him inside, stretched out on the beige leather sofa in front of the flat screen TV.

“About time!” he joked, stretching. Richie tossed his keys on the table.

“Well hey there, boss,” he growled in a scratchy imitation of Cartman. “Sorry we’re late, traffic was a bit…ah…well you know how it goes.”

Samantha laughed. The extent of Richie’s own vocal talent cracked her up – she had long ago decided that when, God forbid, the band stopped recording, he should do voiceovers for cartoons.

“Hey Sam,” Jon said as he came up to them and kissed her cheek. “I guess Richie filled you in, eh?”

“Yep, he dropped the bomb on me,” she winked. “I’m flattered, by the way. Truly.”

Jon smiled. “Well, we think you have potential, kid.”

“Drinks?” Richie called from the kitchen.

“Iced tea, man,” Jon called.

“Samantha?”

“Just water, please!” she called.

Jon switched the TV off and led Samantha to the dining room. “So Richie said you hadn’t given a definite answer – have you decided yet? Are you in?”

Samantha hesitated. Jon was watching her with those bright blue eyes, searching her. His face was kind, but expectant. She suddenly wondered if he’d be mad if she said no.

But she wasn’t planning on saying no.

She drew a big breath. “I must be crazy…but yes, I’m in.”

Jon grinned. “Excellent! Why don’t we get started today? We fly to Denver in three weeks.”

Samantha felt a sudden rush of anticipation – she hardly ever agreed to anything so quickly without knowing all the details. And now she was agreeing to sing with a world-famous band in front of thousands of screaming fans…in three weeks? Not only that, but this was such short notice for work – and that would be a bad time to take off. She still had all of her vacation days left for the year, but deadlines were strict (she had implemented them that way) and she couldn’t very well just take off in the midst of press time. Why hadn’t she thought about that?

She spoke up uncertainly. “Ah, Jon…?”

Jon looked up and read her expression. “Don’t worry, you won’t be singing in Denver. We can’t make all the arrangements before then – and the opening show is probably not the best time to present surprises.”

Samantha exhaled. “Okay. So when will I be singing? I just…I kind of need to know so I can take off work…”

“Well, honestly, it’s pretty much up to you. I mean, it’s not a strict thing, it’s flexible. We’re thinking it might be a cool thing to have you come onstage at the venues where we’re doing multiple nights. That way people who come to more than one of the shows will be in for a treat.” He sat down in one of the cushioned dining chairs and pulled a thick folder toward him.

Samantha felt her ears turn pink. A treat?

“We’re doing multiple nights at several venues all over the country, so if you’d prefer to stay here on the east coast, no problem. And if you’d like to travel a bit, we’ve got a good lineup in the Midwest and on the west coast too,” he flipped through the folder and pulled out a piece of paper, which he handed to her. It was a printed itinerary, detailing at least thirty U.S. cities and venues. She skimmed down the list, recognizing many of them from previous Jovi tours.

Richie came into the room, carrying glasses of iced tea and water.

“So will it be only places with more than one night?” Samantha asked.

Jon took a drink of his tea and shook his head. “No, no, not only. Like I said, we’re flexible. I’d like to start out looking at those nights though. Maybe we can run this on a trial basis for the first leg, and introduce you on, say, the second night of the Garden. That way it’s close by, and we can introduce you as a local. If the audience likes you, and I’m sure they will, we can branch out from there.”

Richie joined them at the table, Diet Coke in hand. “Of course the audience will like her. They’ll be screaming for an encore.”

Samantha blushed, yet again. “All right, so the big question – which song are you thinking of having me do?”

Jon rubbed his chin. “I have some ideas, but we need to test you out first and get a feel for what your range is. We know you can hold the high notes in the national anthem, but none of the songs on Lost Highway really reach that pitch. I mean, they’re just not the same key. So we need to know more of what you can do.”

Samantha nodded. “That makes sense. How are you doing to do that?”

“Make you sing, baby. You’re gonna sing whatever we want, when we want, for however long we want.” Jon winked, and Richie laughed. “No, seriously, we’ll just have you practice some exercises, sing some melodies, demonstrate steps. You said you were in choir before?”

“Yeah, but in middle school.”

“So I assume you know the basics, like breathing? Posture?”

Samantha nodded slowly. “Yeah…I know I’m supposed to breathe with my stomach, but I can never really get it right.”

Jon sat forward and jabbed his finger in the air. “We shall work on that.” He grinned. “Don’t worry, baby, we’re gonna help you. You’re going to be great.”

Samantha looked at both men. They both seemed so sure of her, so confident in her abilities, and they really didn’t have much to base it on. How was it that they could be so trusting? Was it instinct? Or perhaps merely the finely tuned skills for recognizing talent after so many years in the music business? Either way, they had confidence in her, and she felt some of her reservations melt away.

“I’m getting excited now,” she confessed, grinning.

“You should be!” Jon and Richie laughed.

Jon raised his glass to his lips. “We should find a time to talk payment,” he added casually.

“Payment?” Samantha furrowed her brow.

Jon looked at her. “You’ll be paid, of course.”

Samantha hadn’t thought of that either. But frankly, she didn’t care about the money.

“Oh…well, it’s not that big of a deal,” she confessed. “Really.”

Richie raised an eyebrow. “Baby, you’re going to be paid for doing this. You’re doing us a favor.”

“Exactly,” Samantha looked at him. “It’s a favor. I’m more than happy to do it – and really, you guys are the ones doing me the favor, giving me the limelight. Do you know how many fans would kill for the chance to sing with Bon Jovi?”

Jon and Richie looked at each other.

“I don’t want the money,” Samantha shrugged. “It’s really not important to me.”

“Samantha, we have to pay you. I wouldn’t feel right if you did this for free, for nothing,” Jon looked concerned.

Samantha knew to tread carefully in these waters – men, especially businessmen, she knew, were easily insulted when it came to matters of money and pride.

“All right, then I’ll donate it to charity,” she looked Jon in the eye. “Habitat For Humanity.”

Jon and Richie stared at her.

“Are you serious? You really don’t want the money?” Jon asked, incredulous.

“Is it so surprising? Do I come across as someone who needs it?” she teased.

Jon blushed. “Of course not. I just – I’ve never met anybody, in my entire career, who turned down payment for a job.”

“Well I really don’t see it as a job,” Samantha said truthfully. “This is an experience for me, a privilege really.”

She looked over at Richie, whose eyes were twinkling. She knew he understood. And Jon did too – he may be a businessman, but he was also a devout philanthropist. Both men had hearts of gold.

“That is so honorable,” Jon shook his head. “You amaze me, Samantha West.”

Richie beamed at her.

____________________

Richie took Samantha home around six and stayed the evening. They had a dinner of vegetable soup and breadsticks, and talked for hours. Long after the food was gone, they curled up on the couch under a blanket; Richie leaned against one end of the couch and Samantha sat between his legs, resting comfortably against his chest.

“I’m really looking forward to working with you on this singing thing,” Richie hugged her from behind. They had arranged to meet later in the week at Jon’s place to start rehearsing; Samantha would take a half-day at work so they could get as much done as possible.

“I am too,” Samantha replied. “I’m excited to get started.”

“I think you and Jon are going to sound great together – already I can tell that you complement each other’s voices really well.”

“Will you sing at all?” Samantha asked.

“Maybe – I usually harmonize and do back-up vocals, after all, so depending on the song, I’ll continue doing that. If three voices would be too overpowering, then I won’t. But it all depends.”

Samantha nodded. “Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered.

“Of course,” Richie whispered back.

“I used to dream about this as a kid.”

“What, singing with Bon Jovi?”

“Singing with anybody. I used to play Barry Manilow tapes and sing with him into a hair bush. I pretended we were onstage and I was the guest singer.”

Richie threw back his head and laughed. “Oh that’s priceless! Doin’ the bandstand boogie, eh?”

Samantha blushed. “Sometimes! But mostly the ballads.” She laughed and covered her face, embarrassed.

“Well Jon’s no Barry, but hopefully you’ll like singing with him just as much,” Richie chuckled.

“Something tells me I will,” Samantha assured him.

Richie was quiet for a minute before he brought it up again. “I can’t believe you don’t want the money, Sam.”

Samantha laughed softly and shrugged. “Honestly, Rich, it’s not that big of a deal. I just don’t care about being paid.”

“Jon’s right – that is so honorable. Refreshing.”

“I just think there are better ways to put that money to use,” Samantha traced the back of his hand with her fingers. “I’m not trying to be all holy and honorable.”

“I know you aren’t,” Richie murmured into her hair. They both fell silent and he closed his eyes, breathing in her sweet scent. He was overwhelmed by the feelings he felt for her, so strong and powerful, so poignant and pure, coursing through his system. She was beautiful and good, kind and loving. She was honest and hard-working, generous and hospitable – she was so independent and spirited, but at the same time, deeply nurturing and gentle. And this latest good deed of hers, performed so humbly and without show, put him in even more awe of her.

The last couple of months had been by far the happiest Richie had had in a very long time. He realized that. He knew it instinctively and surely, and he could tell even Jon was aware of the changes Samantha brought about in him. She was truly the best thing that had happened to him, perhaps ever.

And in that moment, with his arms wrapped around her warm body, Richie Sambora realized he was in love with Samantha West.