45 - Pillow Talk

Tony automatically launched into a slow stretch when awoke, but held himself from a full-blown extension of arms and legs when he felt the warm body curled into his.  He guessed she was awake because about the same time he cut himself short, she scooted away.

“Mm.  You’re okay,” he assured her groggily, pushing onto his right side and settling his left arm heavily over her waist.  “Hey.”

She swiveled her head on the pillow to give him a little smile and he could see that the tropical eyes were, indeed, wide awake and crystal clear.  “Hey.”

“Time is it?” he grumbled, pushing his face into the crook of her shoulder to spare her morning breath.  He had to take a leak and was craving a smoke, but she felt good enough to ignore both needs for the moment.

“’Bout nine I think.  What do you have to do today?”

“Not a damn thing.”  A streaking memory made him realize that wasn’t entirely true, and he drew back enough to crack one heavy eyelid at her.  “Except for lunch with Jon and Dorothea.  You still in for that?”

“Sure, if you want me to.”

Her reluctant agreement had him frowning with another recollection from yesterday.  “What did he say that made you cry?”

Under normal circumstances, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed the minuscule amount of stiffening in her body, but the fact that he was practically wrapped around her meant that he felt every muscle that went from early morning lax to rigid.  It only lasted for a breath, and  by the time she inhaled and exhaled one time, her body’s pliability had been recovered.

“He didn’t say anything to make me cry.”

“Don’t bullshit me.  I know you had just finished talking to him when Richie met you on the elevator.”

“That’s true,” she admitted slowly.  “But re-tellin’ it doesn’t serve a useful purpose.  Jon doesn’t care for me, and that’s his prerogative.  How I handle it is on me, not him.”

“You should’ve told me.”

“Why?  So you could be annoyed by our personality conflict?  I don’t think so.  Like I said, it’s his prerogative, and I’m gettin’ used to it.”  She smiled and lightly patted his forearm.  “It’s all good.”

He didn’t buy it, particularly in the light of Dorothea’s comment that Lilah didn’t want he and Jon fighting.  What he could do about it, Tony had no idea, but at least it shouldn’t be a problem going forward.  He hoped.

“He just doesn’t know you.  Today, you’ll get to know each other and that problem will be solved.”

“Mm,” she hummed in a noncommittal tone.  “Tell me about your spaghetti sauce, Italian boy.  What made you choose that as your new adventure?”

It was an interesting conversation twist, and unexpected pillow talk.  She hadn’t shown any interest at all in it yesterday, making him think it was no more than a red herring to distract him from something she didn’t want to talk about. 

Seeing as that problem would be resolved in the next few hours, he let her think she got away with something.  She’d find out soon enough that he was onto her tendency to bait and switch when she was avoiding a subject.

“I’m getting a little burned out on the whole touring thing.”

“That’s understandable, I suppose.”  She hooked her leg into his and burrowed into the mattress, hugging his arm to her waist as though she were settling in for the long haul.  Lilah wasn’t in any hurry to jump up and start the day.  He liked that she was content just hanging out and talking – even naked.  He just wished he’d taken care of his bladder before she got comfortable.  “But why spaghetti sauce?”

“Not spaghetti sauce,” he schooled her with mock seriousness.  “Pasta sauce.  Don’t you cook any Italian food besides spaghetti?”

“Yes, but I still call it spaghetti sauce.  It’s an uneducated redneck thing, I s’pose.”

“Lucky for you I’m willing to share my education.”

He told her about having pasta at least three times a week growing up, and how everyone who ate at their house loved his dad’s sauce. That it had stuck in Tony’s mind when he was contemplating career changes, and his father was fully supportive even though he was uninterested in being anything more than a figurehead.  Since Tony was the only son who showed any interest in cooking, it had been up to him to take the family recipes and figure out how to translate them into mass production.

Lilah had several thoughtful questions and was complimentary of what he’d gotten accomplished so far.  There was still a long road ahead, but it was getting shorter.

“I’m kind of in awe of you.”  Her enthusiastic revelation had him twisting so that he could see if she was jerking his chain. 

“Why’s that?”

“I suspected you were a smart guy, but it takes way more than smart to pull somethin’ like this together.  You’re…  I dunno.”  The hollow beneath her collar bone grew more pronounced when she shrugged one bare shoulder.  “I’m just in awe of you.”

Tony was equal parts embarrassed and pleased.  He knew it wasn’t that big of a deal in comparison to the other ventures his family and friends seemed to launch on a daily basis, but it was his and he was proud of it.  Her off-handed comment fed that pride more than it probably should, and he did his best to deflect it.

“Well,” he commented dryly, while untangling their limbs and flipping back the covers.  “I have a feeling my pissing in the bed would take care of that in a hurry, so lemme go handle a different kind of business.”

She snickered as he hot-footed it toward the bathroom.  Her equally dry comment was spoken quietly, so he wasn’t sure he heard it right, but Tony thought she said, “Looks like even white knights are just crude little boys underneath it all.”

✧✧✧

“Jon?  Are you ready?”  Dorothea stood with her hand on the doorknob, purse hitched up on her shoulder, looking at him expectantly.  The only thing that could convey her impatience any more clearly was if she was tapping her flip-flopped toes when she asked.

I really don’t wanna do this.

“Yeah,” he replied moodily, plunking the black cap on his head and tucking a pair of sunglasses into the collar of his t-shirt.  He glanced at the inbox on his laptop, longing for an emergency message that would require his immediate attention.  “Let’s get it over with.”

“Don’t go down there with that kind of attitude.”

“I don’t have an attitude.”  The denial might have been snapped a little more sharply than he intended.  His first clue?  Dorothea nailed him to the wall with the daggers shooting from her eyes as she slid past and out the open door.

“What difference does it make to you who he dates, anyway?”

She didn’t get it, and he didn’t want to divulge the details that would clarify it for her.  Tour bunnies were meant for a quick tumble and a friendly ‘see ya later’.  They were not mean for extended relationships, because they were fame mongers who wanted to sell their stories.  Maybe not now, but years down when they were old and needed an infusion of cash into their fixed incomes.

He’d learned his lesson the hard way, and was grateful that his brothers had historically stuck to the fuck-and-run school of thought when accompanying him on the road.  There had only been a couple of times where it threatened to go beyond that, and the girls had been quite willing to rethink their interests upon receiving attention from Jon in the form of a couple of pit tickets, autographs or a photo op. 

It was a small price to keep the sanctity of ‘what happens on tour stays on tour’.

But now Tony was playing lord and savior to this Kentucky girl, and Jon had to like it or risk estranging his brother.  The bottom line was that family came first, so he was fully prepared to like it.  That didn’t mean he had to like liking it.

“He’s my little brother, and he’s already been through one divorce.  Sue me if I think he might need a little help watching his back when it comes to the fairer sex.”

She pushed the elevator call button with a frown.  “It’s not like he’s been actively looking for a second wife – or a girlfriend for that matter.  I think he’s fine.  She’s the one I’m worried about.”

About damn time she started to see things my way.

He cut her a sharp look as the heavy brass doors slid together.  “What’s got you worried?  Did you read the investigator’s report that you hijacked from me?”

“No.”  The backhanded slap against his arm echoed throughout the car and he deployed the stink-eye in its mildest form at his abusive spouse.  “I didn’t read the stupid report.  I meant I’m worried more about her heart than his.  She was all denials when I said it, but I’m pretty sure she’s in love with him already.”

“Kee-rist...”

Why had Dorothea thought that would make anything better?  A spurned woman was more threat than any other kind. 

“You seem to think that’s a good thing?” he asked her incredulously.  “Haven’t you seen ‘Fatal Attraction’?”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she groaned, smacking him again, this time hard enough to make him flinch.  “You need another movie role.   All that drama is building up inside you and seeping out in the form of idiocy.  Tony isn’t married and Lilah Bennett isn’t the rabbit boiling type, which you would know if you ever talked to her.”

He blew out a breath with a brash huff, tipping his head first to one side and then the other, trying to crack his neck and release some of the tension building there.  It would have benefited him to keep that spontaneous ‘Fatal Attraction’ connection to himself.  Mostly because it did sound a little idiotic. 

This Kentucky woman was making him a little nutso, and Jon was forced to admit this had turned into more than looking out for his brother.  It had become a Lilah-lynching party.  He had some kind of subconscious vendetta against her and he had no idea why.    The tour must finally be getting to him. 

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna talk to her now,” he mumbled, sliding his hand into one of Dorothea’s back pockets and squeezing the firm rump inside.  “Then you can help me with that drama back in the room.  Maybe a little role-playing to get my mind off of this crazy shit?”

Turning into him with a soft chuckle, her fingers curled over his zipper, very effectively slipping all the way back to the seam in the crotch of his jeans.  Her lips tickled his jaw when she huskily inquired, “You want to be the naughty school boy, or the stern Headmaster?”

Now Jon wanted to get this thing over with for a completely different reason.