Chapter Eighteen

Samantha woke to the smell of coffee and the distant sound of television voices. She rolled over in the enormous bed and stretched languidly, wondering what time it was. The room was dark: the heavy curtains blocked out the sunshine, and the oak-paneled walls and black leather furniture made a comfortable, sanctuary-like dwelling. She looked over to Richie’s empty side of the bed and saw a large digital clock, its red LED numbers showing 10:30 AM.

Samantha was surprised. It had been ages since she’d slept that late, and she didn’t think she really was capable of being that lazy nowadays. But then, she had had a rough week.

She got up slowly out of bed and padded into the bathroom, hoping to clean up a bit before going out to the kitchen and presenting herself to Richie. She unpacked the toiletry case she had brought over and pulled out a bottle of mouthwash. She swished some of the minty blue liquid around her mouth for a minute, then spat into the sink. She didn’t want to kill the man with morning breath.

She had pulled on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of pajama shorts the night before, and she considered them in the mirror for a minute before deciding there was no point in changing into her clothes until after she had showered. Pulling out a comb, she ran it through her golden tresses, thinking back on the night before.

Richie had said it. The magic words. Those three little words that mean so much and yet are thrown around like they don’t matter. She hadn’t uttered those words to anyone outside of her family in God knew how long, and they had taken her completely by surprise the night before when Richie had said them. The scariest thing to her was that she knew he meant it. He had had such passion and raw honesty in his voice, like a child who didn’t know the art of deception. It was genuine, it was true, it was heartfelt…it was terrifying.

She wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Not when her ex had just shown up out of thin air and thrown her entire life out of whack. She needed time to figure things out, to sort out her thoughts and feelings, and to do so, she had to take things slow with Richie. Though he hadn’t meant to, he had screwed that up last night.

But how was he to know that? Samantha thought, angry with herself. She knew she shouldn’t have been so stand-offish and, to be honest – rude – to him, but she had panicked. She hadn’t told him about Shane…she wasn’t ready for that either. She wasn’t ready for a lot of things, she realized. Life was so damn hard sometimes.

Samantha finished combing her hair and threw it up in a casual ponytail, took one last look in the mirror, and headed out to the kitchen.

She found Richie sitting at the built-in bar, a coffee mug in front of him and papers strewn all over the countertop. A small television was set on the local news channel, but Richie didn’t appear to be listening. He had his back to her, and he was shirtless, his finely toned shoulder muscles taunting her. She sighed. He was so beautiful.
She walked around the counter to face him, and he looked up, his deep brown eyes taking her in. “Well good morning, sleepyhead.” He smiled.

She smiled back, hoping to avoid discussion of the awkwardness the night before. “I know, I don’t know what got into me. I can’t remember sleeping in this late.”

“You said you were tired – I guess you weren’t kidding.” He took a sip of coffee, winking at her over the rim of the mug.

“Yeah…” she looked at him sheepishly.

“So are you hungry? I don’t have much by means of breakfast food, but there’s a pack of bacon in the fridge. I could whip you up a delicious cholesterol-heavy meal if you want.”

Samantha laughed. “No, I’m fine with a cup of coffee and maybe a piece of toast, but thank you.”

Richie hopped off the barstool and moved around the counter to a nearby cupboard, searching for the bread. Samantha found herself admiring his figure again – her eyes feasting on his fit torso: his flat stomach and strong chest, and the light dusting of freckles that peeked out from the darkly tanned skin. She forced herself to tear her eyes away - she always was a sucker for freckles.

He pulled out a bag of buttermilk bread and popped a piece into the toaster. “You sure this is all you want?”

Samantha nodded. “I’m not that hungry in the morning.”

Richie shrugged. “Suit yourself, Jenny Craig.”

Samantha smiled and pulled up a barstool for herself. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“Jonny’s place at one,” Richie answered. “We’ll use his recording equipment to figure out the settings for your voice so we can tell the sound crew. They’ve been getting stuff ready all week. We fly to Denver next Friday, you know.”

Samantha’s heart skipped a beat. Lord, she hadn’t realized how fast the tour had arrived. When she had been a fan – just a fan – time seemed to stand still when waiting to see Bon Jovi on tour. It was entirely different when you were dating the guitarist.

“Wow, that snuck up quickly.”

“No kidding,” Richie ran a hand through his already-tousled hair. “I feel like we just got home from the end-of-tour party for Have A Nice Day. I guess it’s come up so quickly because we weren’t really even planning on touring for Lost Highway. It just sort of all came together, and Jon said let’s do it.”

Samantha nodded. “So, any plans for a stadium run again?” Her thoughts flashed forward, imagining herself onstage at Giants Stadium, where the band nearly always finished off a world tour, staring at half a hundred thousand fans who were screaming and cheering. She shook the image from her head. Heaven help her, she couldn’t sing at Giants Stadium. If they asked, she’d flat out refuse.

Richie cocked his head to one side. “Eh…we’re not sure. Since we’re starting the tour at an unusual time of year, the customary nine months will be up mid-winter next year. We’re not going to wait several months between tour legs just for summer, and doing a stadium run in the middle of winter isn’t exactly preferred. We – and the fans – usually associate stadium shows with summer. You know, the whole ‘beach blanket and a bottle of wine, feels something like summertime’ thing.”

Samantha smiled. “Yeah, I know what you mean. But a Bon Jovi tour without a stadium run at the end? Especially Giants?”

“I know, that’s what we’re trying to work out. We’ve got the Canada run, and then Europe of course after we finish up in the States…and then we’re in Australia for a week, remember. We’re going to be wiped. But knowing Jon, a stadium run just might end up happening.”

The now toasted bread popped out of the metal appliance and Richie flipped it onto a waiting plate. He brought it over to the bar and set it down in front of Samantha with a tub of margarine and jar of jelly, then took his place next to her. “Eat up,” he grinned. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

_______________________________

They arrived outside Jon’s massive home in Middletown just before one o’clock. Jon met them at the door and ushered them in, wanting to get down to business straight away.

“Let’s get this over with as fast as possible, all right?” he said. “Dorothea’s out with the kids for the afternoon, so we’ve got a few hours of peace and quiet. Drinks?” he gestured toward the spacious kitchen. A couple of minutes later, he then led them out the double French doors to the massive yard and across the lawn to Sanctuary Sound, the private studio on his property.

“All right, Samantha, let me explain a bit of what we’re doing today. Have you ever been to a sound check?”

Samantha shook her head. “No, but I know the basic idea of them.”

They reached the studio and Jon held the door open for her. “Okay, good. Basically, I’m going to have you run through a list of practice sets. Each of them explores different pitches and tones of your voice in different sound calibers that might show up during the course of songs. Some of them require you to speak a set of seemingly random words, some require you to sing prewritten lines of more seemingly random words, and some just require you to make sounds. You’ll feel like an idiot, but just ignore what you’re saying and focus on how you’re saying it.”

He led her to the center of the studio, where a stool and microphone stood waiting for her. A large soundboard stood facing it several feet away. Jon picked up a few sheets of paper off the top of the soundboard and brought them over to her.

“The whole point of this is that it tests the sound frequencies to diminish feedback during a live show,” he explained. “We want to reduce the risk of microphone whines and squealing, so we don’t deafen the audience – and ourselves,” he chuckled. “It shouldn’t take more than half an hour, and then I’ll make sure the sound crew has your settings. They’ll get a memory mic preset for your vocals so we don’t have to do that at sound check before each show. It makes things go by a lot more quickly, trust me.”

Samantha nodded. “That makes sense. So what do I do now, boss?”

“As soon as I’m ready for you, just read off the first set of phrases on this paper,” Jon pointed to the top of the first page. “I’ll tell you where to go from there.”

He flipped a switch on the microphone stand, then took his place behind the soundboard and started fiddling with knobs, moving levers, and pushing buttons. Samantha caught sight of Richie as he slipped into the studio and smiled at her before moving to a corner table. He sat down with his water bottle and began flipping through papers, making occasional markings in Sharpie.

Jon looked up. “All right, Sam, speak the first set.”

Samantha did as she was told, saying aloud a jumble of entirely random phrases and words, feeling foolish, but knowing that the two musicians in front of her did this all the time. She spoke clearly, and Jon nodded in approval as she worked through the first set. When she was finished he instructed her to continue, and eventually she began singing sets as well as speaking them.

Jon was true to his word: they finished in about thirty-five minutes, and when Jon stood up from the soundboard, he was smiling.

“Excellent, Sam, you did great!”

Samantha smiled in relief. “Thanks! That was pretty easy.”

“All right…I think the time has come to choose what you’re going to sing.”

Samantha raised an eyebrow. “Already?”

“Well, yeah – we need to know so we can rehearse before you make your debut. Did Richie ask you about singing at Madison Square Garden?”

Samantha nodded. “I think it’s a perfect idea.”

“Excellent,” Jon brought over a piece of paper and handed it to her. It was a list of potential songs they could duet together. ‘(You Want To) Make A Memory’ was listed, as well as several other songs, some from Lost Highway and some from previous albums. Samantha scanned it quickly as Jon went on.

“As you can see, I wrote down some songs that aren’t off this album, but those are really just for a last resort type of thing. We really want you to sing something that promotes this tour, you know?”

Samantha nodded. “Absolutely, I agree.”

“I figure I’ll just start by asking – do you see anything you’d like to sing?”

“Well, yeah actually…I love ‘Whole Lot Of Leaving’ and I know the words to it,” Samantha glanced at the paper. “I think we could harmonize that pretty well.”

Jon smiled. “We definitely could. You have the vocal range for it, and it’s a good, fun song to duet. Since we need to pick something and stick with it, let’s go ahead and run with this one for now, okay? Rich, can you accompany?”

Richie stood from the corner table and picked up a guitar in one of the wall-side racks. He dragged over a stool and sat down, then struck the first chords of ‘Whole Lot of Leavin’, plucking at the strings in a gentle melodic riff.

“Just sing, Sam, okay?” Jon said, tapping his fingers to the beat against his thigh. “This is not a test, or a real rehearsal, I just want you to harmonize it the way you’d naturally do it, and then we’ll work from there.”

Samantha nodded, nervous and surprised at how quickly they were starting.

Jon began singing:

It's pretty cold for late September
The autumn wind is creepin' in
The summer sun packed up, it's long gone
There's a whole lot of leaving going on

Richie picked up the tempo and rhythm on the guitar, and Jon nodded at Samantha. She started too quickly and made a face at herself, but recovered nicely.

I'll bet it's warm in California
I think it's time to hit the road
I just might call that band of gypsies
Go searching for our pot of gold
Seems like lately there's a whole lot of leaving goin’ on

There was a huge smile on Jon’s face and he nodded again to tell her they were both to sing the chorus.

I close my eyes and picture your hand in mine
I still hear your voice, it takes me back to that time
Where I can find a reason to be strong
Seems like lately there's a whole lot of leaving going on

Jon signaled to Richie to stop, then turned to Samantha. “That was very good, Sam, very good. As I said before, we have some pitch issues to work out, and we’ll need to do quite a bit of practice, but you’re truly a natural. I’m very impressed. The audience is going to love you.”

Samantha beamed. Jon’s compliments never ceased to mean the world to her.

___________________________

A couple of hours later, Richie took Samantha home. Samantha babbled on happily in the car about the rehearsal and her nerves about the upcoming debut. It had been a successful afternoon, and Jon said they had made good headway for starting out. He wanted to meet with her a couple of times over the next week for rehearsal before the band left to launch the tour, since once they started, their schedule would be hectic. Samantha realized that left little time to be with Richie alone before he left, and she voiced her disappointment about that. Richie, however, remained quiet and subdued.

When they pulled up to Samantha’s apartment complex Richie stopped the car, staring out the window. After a brief silence, he turned to her.

“Sam, about what I said last night…” he began.

Samantha’s heart sped up, and she suddenly wished he wouldn’t say any more.

“On the couch, you know, right after you mentioned how sweet I am,” he smiled coyly, but it was brief. “I’m not sure if you really heard what I said, but I just wanted to make sure you know that I was serious. I meant it, every word.” He looked at her, hoping she’d be more receptive to him this time.

Samantha avoided his eyes, unsure, again, of what to say. Don’t be rude, she thought to herself. At least let him know you appreciate him opening up to you.

“I know you did, Rich,” she managed to say, offering a smile.

Richie considered her for a minute. “All right then, I just wanted to make sure. I guess I’ll see you on Monday for the next rehearsal, okay? I’ll pick you up from work, how’s that?”

“Sounds good,” Samantha leaned over and kissed his lips gently. “I’ll call you.” She smiled and climbed out of the car. “See ya.”

He waved at her from the driver’s seat. “Bye, darlin’.”

Samantha watched as he drove away, then turned and headed up to her apartment. As she opened the door and fought off the restless Golden Retrievers, she noticed the answering machine in the kitchen blinking. Dropping her keys on the entry table, she made her way to the kitchen and pressed the button to get the message. It was from her mom.

“Hey Sammy – it’s your mother. Listen, sweetie, I know you’ve been busy lately, but I figure you’ve had that rock star boyfriend all to yourself for long enough now.”

Samantha paused at the refrigerator, dreading what was coming next.

“James and I were talking this morning, and we’ve decided it’s time to meet this fellow in person. Bring him on over to my place – we can barbeque or something, and tell him to feel free to bring that cute singer too. Call me back so we can discuss details, but I’m not taking no for an answer. Love you!”

Samantha made a face and groaned. She knew this would happen eventually…she just, well, she had hoped it wouldn’t. Her family was nuts, she knew that all too well, and while she loved them dearly, she wasn’t sure what Richie would think of them. She sighed, wondering how long she could put it off.

The last thing she needed on top of dealing with her emotions about Richie, Shane’s sudden return to her life, an upcoming performance with Bon Jovi, and the constant deadline stress at the office was her mother showing Richie Sambora the squeaking slippers she had given Samantha for Christmas.