Crazy For You. A. C. Meyer

Crazy For You - A. C. Meyer


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my liking, I finally get to the hotel bedroom to take a bath and rest.

      I had to be really focused, as Zach was in and out all the time taking calls or sending text messages. I roll my eyes as I remember the number of times this went on. The guy comes to help me but his mind is elsewhere. I should have brought Rafe along as he is a better planner.

      I open into a big yawn, while I stretch, feeling tired. I always worked better at night. That’s why waking up early to travel and go through the day taking care of all those bureaucratic activities knocks me down harder than spending the night at the bar.

      I must confess that being far away from After Dark really hurts me. The bar is my life. I don’t have kids and I’m not married (thank God!). My daily focus is my business, which has been growing steadily, and a serious relationship is certainly not in my plans.

      Not at all.

      Hey, don’t point your finger or roll your eyes to me. My mother’s roasting this morning was sufficient:

      “Mother? I’m coming in”, I spoke after knocking on the kitchen door and turning the door knob. As always, it was open.

      “Hi, my son! Up so early?” My mother hugged me in the middle of the kitchen and pushed me down a chair, ready to fill me up with morning coffee.

      “I only came by to give you a kiss. I’m going on a trip with Zach to see a property. I think we might have found what we were looking for to expand After Dark.

      “That’s excellent, love. Drink your coffee and eat that warm sandwich combo.” She pushed the dish with the sandwich and placed the cup full of black coffee right in front of me. “You don’t eat properly and stay awake all night long...My son, you need to look after yourself. To look after yourself, grow up, start a family...”

      “Mother...”

      “Don’t “mother” me. You’re almost twenty eight years old. Don’t you think you are running late to find a good girl? Marry and give me grandchildren? You’re not getting any younger.”

      “Mother, I already told you that I don’t want to get marri...”

      “Daniel, it’s time you think your life over.” “Oh, damn it.” “That’s my full name. Sit down and listen. Those girls that hang on to you at the bar will not be around when you turn fifty. Listen carefully to what your mother is telling you. Now, you better eat as I know you are going to spend the day running around and you’re not going to feed yourself.”

      Even with all her allegations that I'm getting old —at twenty-seven, for God's sake—I’m still not looking for a serious relationship. After Dark is my life and I'm not willing to share my time with anyone in pursuit of success.

      I'd rather leave this grandchildren and wedding chat to my sisters, Jo and Julie.

      Yes, I know, Ju's not really my sister, but she grew up with me and was raised by my parents since hers passed away. Ever since, she became as much my responsibility as my own sister. I must confess that when we were younger, I had a special feeling for her, until John, my best friend from high school, caught me looking at her like a dog that looks at a roasted chicken, and told me it was disgusting what I was doing, that I should protect her from guys like me, and stop drooling over her. After all, she was my sister. He was very persuasive. In the end, I felt like a pervert as I was attracted to the girl who lived under the protection of my parents. I had to choke my wish and did what any older brother would do: I protected Julie as much as I could.

      So far, it's been working.

      I turn on the computer while I take off my shirt and shoe. I really need a good bath. I go through the suitcase looking for underwear when I hear the e-mail sound letting me know I have unread messages. I get a fright when I see the amount of notifications from the bar's Facebook page. Oh, boy! Did some sort of a bomb go off in there?

      I open Facebook, already anticipating a headache. I'm rolling the screen as I go into a state of shock. The amount of check-ins made at the bar is infinitely higher than any other night.

      I keep scrolling the screen and read the comments:

      Lucy Smith: Wonderful night with the gals! After Dark rocked with the handsome Alan.

      Michael Lewis: Today's show was excellent! Congratulations, AD gang!

      Anne McCarty: Best night ever!

      Luc Robs: What's with the voice of this hot chick who's singing in AD?

      Hold on. Hot? There's something wrong. Snash and The Band don't have any hot chicks on the front line. Would they have invited anyone to play with them tonight?

      I go down the page a little more and find a publication of the vocalist:

      Snash: Friends, I’m saying goodbye to AD. On my way to India to find my inner balance and peace.

      Oh, fuck! We lost the band’s lead singer and Rafe didn't even call me? And who's the hot chick who was singing instead? I immediately take the phone to call Rafe and see five unread text messages:

      Rafe: Dude, call me. Problems.

       Rafe : Danny, I'm going to have to take extreme action. Snash pulled out of the show at the last minute. Call me!

       Rafe : Call me, DAMN IT!!

       Rafe : Fuck it. When you guys come back we level it up. You’re going to lose it but I had no other option. I found a replacement for that SOB, Snash.

       Rafe : I’m the man. Full house. What an achievement. You guys should stay there because I manage this place better if you keep away. :D

      Now I’m curious. I wonder who he booked.

      There’s a link in the bar timeline that draws my attention. “Juliette & The Band singing Fever at After Dark.” Excellent, someone recorded the new band’s show.

      The video is not that good, it seems to have been done with a smartphone. The person that made the footage was very close to the stage. It zooms on that idiot Alan who’s the first to sing. He is unfortunately an idiot I have to bear with, despite acting like an asshole, constantly throwing charm at the fans and always taking one of them to the dressing room. How can someone believe that an asshole with such hair has fans?

      The video carries on until a female, hoarse and sensual voice begins to sing. The camera turns towards her and... Holy shit! A beautiful, hot and sensual blond is (with) her eyes closed, swaying her body to the rhythm of the song as she sings.

      I feel a shiver go through my spine and the excitement taking over. I haven't felt this way in a long time. I don't even know if I've ever felt this way. Actually, yes, but I had to smother it. It would never work. Of course I've had many liaisons, I go out with a lot of beautiful women, but this kind of lust, one that leaves a knot in the stomach and seems to have knocked me right in the chest, is rarer. The feeling I have is that she's singing just for me. I'm sure every man at the bar tonight felt the same way. The song carries on and while the blond sings the sensual song in a duet with that jerk Alan, I can't help myself and imagine the things that mouth should be able to do.

      I keep staring at the screen and frown. She seems vaguely familiar to me. Would she have been at the bar before? I don't think so. I would never forget seeing a woman like her. The blond continues to sing, with her eyes closed and a little smirk on her face, pouring her sensuality in a subtle way, almost as if unaware of what she can arouse in men.

      The music comes to a close and so does the video. Now, besides being tired, I'm excited and bothered. I get up from the chair, take off my pants and go to the bathroom. Now, more than ever, I need a bath. Cold, preferably.

      Chapter six

      Julie


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