My little Huggle Bug.
I was both laughing and crying. I loved the song; I loved the dancing. But what was most incredible to me was that Jack had taken a time of conflict, loneliness, and comfort and turned it into this raucous, bouncy tune. He truly had a gift for fun, for making everything better. This must have been the song he was writing on the plane.
I knew that the moment had come, and I dug out the Scoobie Doo panties from my cross-body bag, hooked a finger through the elastic and launched them straight at Jack.
As much as I would have loved to see them whap him in the face, it was probably for the best that they landed on the ground by him. He clocked them lying there and turned to give me a wink before launching into the next verse. Giddy shivers of excitement went up and down my body. Holy cow, he was good!
The show went on another hour after that. I don’t know how the band was able to maintain that level of energy and enthusiasm for almost 2 hours. Maybe the excitement of the crowd fed them.
To close out the show Jack had a stagehand bring out a stool and a large shoe box.
“I’m going to dedicate this last song to a friend. She and I had a disagreement about the meaning of this song. I said that since I wrote it, I knew that it was about…” he paused, scanning the number of preteens in the audience, “…alternative forms of affection. She claims it’s about the torture of the fashion industry. So, to prove a point, and also, to make her laugh, I will be performing “Beat Me, Whip Me (Make me wear plaid)” while wearing 4” Christian Louboutins.”
I was just taking a sip from my water bottle, and I almost choked laughing.
Jack sat on the stool, took off his boots, and squeezed his feet into the shoes.
“Damn, these pinch a bit!” He stood up to play, wobbled, and said, “Nope, not happening. This one’s gonna have to be seated.” He adjusted his keyboard and started to play.
Strutting down the street
in your tight leather pants
You got my heart in a vise
Laced up tight
You’re making me hurt for you
Hurt for you, hurt for you, baby, hurt for you
The crowd was swaying, singing along to the irresistible hook.
Jack played through the song, smiled. and stood up. “Damn if she isn’t right!” he shouted. He sat back down to take off the shoes. “Ladies, if you’re with a guy who says you need to wear these to look good, tell him you will if he will!” The crowd roared with applause and cheers.
“And if there’s a size 12 in the audience who would like these shoes, they’re yours,” Jack called out. A hand shot up near the center of the audience and he beckoned her to come to the front of the stage. A statuesque brunette who probably played center for her basketball team came forward. “Would you like them signed?” She nodded, looking like she might pass out. “Anyone have a Sharpie?” A PRTY girl at the edge of the stage handed him one. He signed the shoes for the center, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and handed her the shoes. Now she really looked like she might pass out. Jack signed the shirt of the groupie with the pen and returned it to her. She looked thrilled, but a bit put out that she hadn’t gotten the cheek kiss.
“OK, that’s it for tonight. Thank you so much for coming! We love you all! Take care!! And remember—there’s always a party as close as your phone! Good night!”
The band held hands, took a bow, and left the stage. The house lights came up and the excited post-concert buzz still filled the place. I was just wondering where to go when a man appeared at my elbow wearing a lanyard that said he was arena security. The lanyard wasn’t necessary. The polyester nature of his jacket and the obvious bulge of muscles beneath the jacket were a tell.
He leaned in and said in a soft voice, “Mr. Garcia requests that you come backstage. I’ll guide you.” Taking my elbow, he parted the crowd and led me through a series of doors and tunnels till he came to the backstage room where the band could relax post-show.
Jack was seated on a sofa and had his feet up, chugging a water bottle. His face lit up when he saw me. “Eve!” Waving me over he swung down his feet and patted the seat beside him. “I’d be a gentleman and stand, but damn my feet hurt!”
Laughing, I sat next to him. “That was such a good show! You were amazing!”
“Did you like it?”
“Like it? I loved it!”
“It was fantastic having you here. It made it so much more fun.” He gave me a wolfish look as he took in my outfit. “I like the shirt. It’s a good look for you.”
“Well, I thought it would help me to blend in with the five thousand other future Mrs. Jack Garcias.”
He brushed some of my glitter hair off my face and leaned in to whisper to me, “There’s not a chance of you blending in, Eve. You’re exceptional.”
Then he put one hand behind my neck, pulled me close to him, and kissed me. This kiss was a bit bolder than the sweet goodnight kiss at my apartment. There was an intensity behind it, as though he’d been dreaming of this moment since we met. His lips glided over mine, left a trail of butterflies along my jawline, and came back to my lips, pressing firmer, leaving me breathless, feeling alight with sparkles. Pressing closer to him, I answered his kisses with my own.
