Chapter Nineteen
Shock would be putting it mildly. Sitting at a table, placed for maximum visibility, sat the last person I'd expected to see. Next to Warren, that is. Long legs stretched out in front of him, custom-made boots crossed at the ankles, cowboy hat tilted back on his head -- Ricky Ray was holding court.
A gorgeous blonde wearing a skimpy black leather mini-skirt and bustier snuggled up next to him and whispered something. Ricky twisted his finger in her hair and whispered back. My tote bag slipped off my shoulder. I grabbed at it, turned it upside down, and watched all my clutter clatter to the floor.
I dove after it, frantically scooping up all my junk. Wallet, gum, a can opener, my I-Phone, an unorganized organizer, sixteen lottery tickets, three candy bars, four demo CDs, my birth control pills, a quarter roll of toilet paper. (Don't ask.)
A tampon rolled under a barstool and I had to get down on my hands and knees to reach it. I hoped like hell that no one was looking at me. I retrieved it and turned around to stuff it back into the bag.
The boots stopped right in front of me. I took a deep breath and slowly looked up. Up the long blue-jeaned legs. Past the brilliant blue shirt, my eyes stopping on that face I know better than my own. Ricky Ray looked down at me, smiling and oozing out all that charm and sex appeal that has made him so freaking rich and famous.
Damn him. It isn't fair, you know? I mean, I'm over him, I really am, but I just couldn't make my body behave. My heart was racing, my hands were sweating, my face felt like it was on fire, and I just knew that if I were to try and talk, my voice would sound like a Vienna choir boy's.
He pulled off his hat and ran his fingers through his thick, sandy blonde hair. Slowly, he reached down and held out his hand. I hesitated, then gave in, letting him pull me to my feet.
He looked at me, The Smile plastered in place, then looked down at the tampon that had somehow transferred from my hand to his.
"Uh, thanks, doll, but I don't reckon I'll be needin' this," he drawled in that rich, sexy, bedroom voice of his.
I felt the flush all the way down to my toes. I grabbed the tampon and threw it in my bag. I still didn't speak, not trusting my voice.
He smelled incredible. The turquoise shirt, one of those with a band collar, looked like it had been custom made. The color was an exact match to those bewitching eyes. He just stood there smiling that million dollar smile and gazing deep into my eyes.
I sucked in my breath and blew it out slowly, I had to break his gaze, but it was hard. It felt like every eye in the place was on us. I glanced around. They were. The jukebox finished playing Ricky Ray’s latest hit, "Rollin' Down the Highway of Love". The room was so quiet that I could hear my heart beating.
Steve LeFever and Zach stood over by the dart boards. Zach raised his eyebrows and lifted his hands, as if to say 'what gives'. His mouth was set in a grim line. I blinked and turned back to Ricky Ray.
"Marty, baby, you sure are looking good. How the hell are you?" Ricky Ray grabbed my head on both sides and tilted it back, my face lifted.
A hot chill ran down my spine. I knew this move all too well. He bent down and kissed me on the mouth, hard and possessive.
I jerked my head back out of his grasp and smacked it on the wall behind me. "Damn you, Ricky Ray! How dare you do that to me. Who the hell do you think you are?"
I almost slapped him, but I didn't want to make a big scene. "What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in Nashville acting like a big-shot star?"
He laughed. Even his laugh is sexy. "Still got a smart mouth, I see. Actually, I'm just over here for a few days. I wanted to see Mama and Grandma before we start the second leg of our tour. We play down in Raleigh tomorrow night, then we have another eighty two dates. We're even going to Japan, can you believe it?"
"Those poor Japanese!" I shook my head sadly. "Imagine, being subjected to those crappy noises you pass off as music. They'll sure have a low opinion of Americans after you get through."
Everybody was still watching us. Zach slowly twirled a dart through his fingers like a baton. I briefly fantasized about him throwing it at Ricky Ray.
"You know, Ricky, I used to think you were a pretty good songwriter," I said. "But, now all you do is churn out stupid little ditties with catchy titles. You've sold out."
He laughed again. "Sold out? Yeah, babe, I guess you could say that I've sold out. Every single off the album hit number one and every concert has been standing room only. You don't need to worry that pretty little head of yours one bit, sweet thing. I'm laughing all the way to the bank."
"One of these days, somebody prettier than you, somebody who can actually sing and who writes better songs, is going to come along, and you're going to be out on your ass," I said. I hoped. Prayed. "What are you going to do then?"
He shrugged. "Ain't gonna happen any time soon, babe. I got me a whole pile of advisors. Every one of them working their butts off to make sure that the Ricky Ray Riley Reign rolls along."
I snorted. Now I knew who had written all that alliterative graffiti on the table over at the park.
He did some sort of twitchy move with his hips. "Yes siree, darlin', I'm a genuine phenomenon. But that's enough about me, sugar. How's your folks doin'?"
If I'd been chewing gum, I would have swallowed it. "They're all doing just fine and nobody misses you."
"What about my old pal, Delbert? I'll bet he misses me."
"I wouldn't count on it. I'll bet if he saw you, he'd scratch your eyes out." That image made me smile. "In fact, when one of your songs comes on the radio, he runs and hides under the bed until I turn it off."
"I sure miss that kitty. Maybe we can go over to your place so I can see him." He reached over and took my hand, rubbing it suggestively between his.
I snatched my hand away and took a step backwards. "Like I'd let you anywhere near him! He'd probably bite you." Especially if I smeared some tuna juice on Ricky Ray’s hand.
He took a step closer to me. "Sweet, sweet Marty, I really do miss you, ya' know."
"What about Miss Bikini, over there?" I ducked my head toward the blonde, who was watching us intently. She flashed me the perfect beauty contestant smile: all teeth, no eyes.
"Who? Oh, you mean Tiffany?" Ricky Ray glanced over his shoulder at her. "Just friends."
"Really? I saw her with you on TV at that awards show the other night. She must be some kind of friend, the way she was hanging all over you. It was pretty disgusting. Weren't you embarrassed? I mean, God, your Grandma was probably watching!"
"Ah ha! You're jealous." He reached over and pulled my hair loose from its ponytail. "There, you look much prettier with your hair down."
The blonde's smile faded to a steely glare.
He looked me over good. "Darlin', that dress doesn't show off your assets too good, you know." He looked back up into my eyes and entwined his fingers in my hair.
Zach threw the darts down and started toward us. Steve grabbed his arm and held him back.
Ricky Ray leaned so close to me that I could feel his breath on my face. "Let's go over to your apartment and get reacquainted, catch up on old times," he whispered, his voice pure sex.
Tiffany stomped into the ladies room.
Ricky put his finger on my nose and tapped it gently, trailing it down to my lips, then began to caress my face. "Marty, sweet baby, I miss you so damn much."
Zach jerked his arm away from Steve and grabbed a chair, bouncing its legs hard against the floor.
I slapped Ricky's hand away and backed up against the wall. "Stop it, Ricky! Geez, I'm not one of your little groupies, you know! I'm not your honey, baby, sweetie, darlin', sugar, or punkin' anymore! It's me, Marty, remember? The one you dumped after eight years together. Three days -- three days! -- before our wedding. The one who was there through all the hard times, helping you, supporting you, loving you!
"And for what? So you could run off to Nashville with Paula Dombroski and become a big supe
rstar, leaving me here all alone, with a seven hundred dollar wedding dress and a four-tier marble cake!" I gave him a little shove backwards.
I swiped the tears out of my eyes, angry at myself for letting them show. "Don't forget, Ricky, I know you! And I know your pathetic little games!
He stepped closer, so close that I couldn't breathe. "Marty, oh baby, you'll never know how sorry I am about all that. I love you so much, baby. C'mon, let's get out of here, go someplace where we can talk it over." He nuzzled my neck. "I'll show you how much I care."
It happened before I could even think about it. One second he was standing there nuzzling me, and the next, he was lying on the ground, holding his crotch and moaning. Mom would have been so proud of me.