Aint No Nice Guy
Aint No Nice Guy
Songs: I Aint No Nice Guy After All, performed by Lemmy, Ozzy and Slash
Estranged, Guns n’ Roses
Spiral Staircase, Kings of Leon
Chapter 16
The weather was crap, as usual. She trudged through Heathrow’s endless terminals, pulling her bag, watching rain beat down on the large windows. It was still lovely in Nashville when she left last night. The weather held at a comfortable 73F.
Her needy lover begged her to come and join him on tour. She was in school, so she had to frantically rearrange some of her schedule, take online classes, move some subjects and make up tear-jerking stories to the admissions coordinators, so they would let her switch times and classes. Now, England, Scotland, Ireland and France lay in front of her. At least the hotels sounded good, Kings of Leon being super stars, and being wined and dined in the finest establishments by the adoring Europeans.
She hailed a cab. Caleb wanted to send a car for her, but she wasn’t sure when she was coming exactly, between school, parents and real life obligations. It was early, and traffic was pretty bad coming into the city. Her driver was a chatty one, even though she understood only about 2/3 of what he was saying, since he apparently hailed from a Scottish village.
It took almost an hour to get to the hotel. She paid and entered the imposing lobby, gilded and marbled to the hilt. It amused her to see the fancy surroundings in which these Nashville boys suddenly found themselves. No wonder they got they used to the good life quickly. She got an electronic key that Caleb had left for her for from the reception and then made her way to the elevator, declining a bellhop’s assistance. Her stomach lurched when she smelled the scent of food coming from the restaurant and she thought that breakfast wasn’t a bad idea.
She tugged her bag, suddenly excited to see Caleb. It’s been less than a week since they parted, but she’s been thinking of him the entire time. She found that this “being in love” sensation was in fact quite annoying at times, for it took up so much of her mental ability and time in general, but then she certainly wouldn’t trade it for anything. Even mundane things such as going to the grocery store were wrought with endless possibilities for temptation and thoughts of love and sex. She finally stopped at the door, dipped the key into the slot and opened it. It was dark, smelled like pot and alcohol and cologne. She stumbled in the darkness, cursed softly and turned on the light. The remnants of last night’s party lay scattered on the sofas and plush armchairs, clothes and towels, cigarette butts overflowed ashtrays, rows of empty bottles covered every inch of at least two side tables and poker chips had fallen on the floor from the table. She felt sorry for the chambermaids who’d have to take care of all this later on. Leaving her luggage, she tiptoed to the bedroom. She opened the door softly, guessing that Caleb had just recently gone to bed considering the condition of the room. Tiny thin rays of daylight seeped through the closed curtains. Caleb raised his head, squinting. Seeing her, he smiled and sat up. Then another head rose next to him in bed, a brown and long haired one. “It’s early,” moaned the woman, “go to sleep.”
She made a few steps back and closed the door.
Sweat broke all over her body and she flushed so hard that she felt like she was on fire. She grabbed her purse and bolted out of the room. The last thing she needed was to see this woman face to face, or hear Caleb say, “She doesn’t mean nothing”.
She went to the lobby and then to the restaurant.
There were many empty tables, and she didn’t wait to be seated, but walked to the bar, sat down and ordered a double Johnny Walker straight up. The barman looked at her with surprise, consulted the clock, confirmed that it was in fact 8:42am and poured her the drink. She finished it in one swallow, ordered another, gulped it down, and then asked for a pint.
“Are you eating, miss?” inquired the barman.
“Full breakfast,” she ordered, quickly drinking her beer. “And a Bloody Mary.”
“Rough night?” asked the man.
She thought and then muttered,
“A witch and a son of a bitch.”
The barman looked at her with some confusion, but then understood what she was saying and chuckled.
Just as her breakfast arrived, eggs Benedict and sausages and toast, she heard Nathan’s gravelly, nasal voice behind her.
She dug into her dish and then heard Nate’s surprised call.
“You came already?”
“Morning!” she smiled.
Nathan’s eyes quickly darted to her dish, which was still only just touched, and since she was still wearing her jacket, he assumed that she hadn’t gone up to the room yet.
“Um…hey!” he hugged her quickly, and then muttered, “we had a nice after party last night…Caleb is still sleeping probably…don’t wake him up,”
“Save it,” she raised her hand, “I’ve seen it. I’ve seen them.”
Nathan slid on the stool beside her and sighed.
“You angry with him…yeah, I’d guess you are. I am sorry. I am…I mean you know how he is…lots of pretty girls, all throwing themselves at him, he loses,”
“You can’t constantly baby him, Nate,” she interrupted. “I am sorry. I know that it’s your natural tendency, to try to have him weasel out of every predicament by blaming it on some weakness or temptation. Bullshit. He knows what happens when he does certain things—when he starts drinking, when he sees all these “pretty girls”, or when he gets into fights with you and the rest of the boys. I mean, I can’t stop you from coddling him, but I am not sure you are doing him any favors.”
“Okay…well, now what?”
“Between him and I?” she sipped her Bloody Mary and Nathan ordered himself one, eyeing her breakfast jealously. Before she could answer, Caleb sat on the stool on the other side of her. He was silent. She sighed and smiled at their reflection in the bar’s mirror. What a messed up trio.
“Could you arrange for breakfast for my gentlemen here,” she asked the bartender. The guy wasn’t sure what to think of them, recognizing the rock stars, as he just saw them last night in concert, and wondering if they are involved in some sort of tormented kinky threesome that involved two brothers and one woman.
“Where are you guys playing tonight?” she asked them.
“Hammersmith Apollo,” said Caleb.
“Is that a nice venue?” she asked.
“Yeah, it looks like a theater. Not a stadium setting,” answered Nathan. He was glad that she didn’t shriek and run away when Caleb appeared. It would be something that lots of women would do having just witnessed infidelity. He kind of wished he could kick Caleb in the teeth now, but he had to contain himself. She was correct. Caleb fucked things up for no reason, knowing of the consequences, but not caring.
“Busy day today,” said Caleb. He accepted a drink and added, “Interviews, then we’ll go to the venue, rehearse, eat something, and then get ready.”
‘I have to take a nap,” she said, “I didn’t sleep on the plane at all.”
Caleb searched in his pocket and then slid a key card towards her.
“Room 417,” he said.
The other room was number 608. She took the card and got up.
“Have fun with the interviews.” She then chuckled and said, “I am sure answering questions about how it was living on the road and having a preacher father will be as good as ever!”
Nathan rolled his eyes and muttered,
“Kill me now.”
“You should arrive to the interview barefoot, taking a swig out of a bottle of Moonshine, chewing tobacco, wearing a wifebeater,” she suggested, “tell them you are reverting back to your roots.”
“Contrary to popular belief, we did wear shoes,” said Nathan.
“How droll.”
…Her luggage was in the room, along with Caleb’s. It was a spacious suite, fresh smelling, sparkling, with flat screen TVs in every room and a marble bathroom.
She showered, put pajamas on and went to bed. It was massive, a lot bigger than what she was used to, and she thought that the skinny Caleb would be lost amidst a dozen pillows and all this fluff.
“Men cheat” was something Caleb once told her. Maybe they all did. Or maybe it was just he who did. Now that she was here, it was fairly irrelevant. She was going to deal with the issue when they came back to the US, if ever.
She fell asleep swaddled in the cool softness of the fine sheets.
Later on, she wasn’t sure of the time, she felt Caleb slip in bed beside her. His familiar scent and the weight of his body were a reassuring presence beside her, even if he didn’t touch her. She didn’t roll towards him, though it was something that she wanted very much, but then she felt his large hand lay on her hand and he brought it to his chest, holding it there.
It was darker in the room when she work up. There was still murky sunlight outside, be she guessed that she slept most of the day.
Caleb was awake beside her, staring at the ceiling, silent.
“Please don’t say good bye to me,” he whispered.
She was silent.
“I wouldn’t be able to deal with that,” he continued. “Not with you leaving. It’ll be the end of…ahh…all of it.”
She remained quiet.
“The guys are mad at me now. Got into a big thing at rehearsal,”
“Shocking,” she muttered dryly.
Caleb smiled crookedly.
“Yeah, I am banned from human contact and no one is talking to me.”
“Again, shocking.”
“Well, you are talking to me,”
“Not for long,’ she rolled her eyes.
“Great. So I guess I’ll be talking to myself…and playing spin-the-bottle,”
“By yourself,”
“Story of my life,’
“Don’t complain,” she said, “all your troubles are self-inflicted. As always.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
She sighed. He flipped over and towered atop of her, before collapsing with a screech. With a pop his shoulder slipped out of it socket and he flopped back on the mattress. His face paled from the pain and he groaned,
“I love you.”
She shook her head and sat up. He grimaced, but didn’t complain, looking lovingly at her.
“Just my luck,” she muttered, “not only do I get some cheater, he is also falling apart in front of my eyes,”
“Literally,” he gasped.
Popping his shoulder back in its socket wasn’t her favorite thing to do, but short of summoning one of the guards or Nacho or someone else, she was the one for the job. She helped him sit up and then grabbed his arm and with a practiced move set the shoulder back in its proper place. He yelped, sweating instantly and then fell back on the sheets.
“Oh shit….”
“You have to take care of this,” she suggested seriously. “What if it happens in the middle of a concert? You’ll freak people out!”
“When I go back to Nashville I’ll go to the doctor,” he promised. “Thanks!”
“How does it feel?”
“Feels fine. You are awesome. Wanna marry me?” he inquired casually.
“Um…no,” she answered shortly, “not until you learn how to keep it in your pants, get rid of all your other ladies, deal with your temper issues, and many other things. Ask me in a couple of years.”
“All right. I will.”
“We have to get up,” she glanced at the clock. It was after 4pm. “You ought to eat something before the concert.”
She picked up the menu and asked,
“What do you want?”
“Fish of some kind…Order a couple of bottles of Bollinger.”
“Bollinger? Who are you planning to wine with Bollinger?”
“You.”
“Unnecessary.”
“Indulge me,” he insisted.
She rung up room service and ordered the food, as well as the alcohol.
Then she wanted to get up, but he held her by the hand, and she stayed in place.
“I don’t want to do the sorrys’,” he whispered,
“You don’t need to do anything,” she interrupted. “What’s done is done. You are forgiven.”
“So then why do I feel like shit?” he wondered. “I know I am an ass most of the time, but I never want to hurt you. It was a lonely time for me. I mean it’s nice here, but I was missing home, and my mom, and most of all you. So I went the wrong way, as usual.”
He moved closer to her and his yet-to-be-shaved cheek slid against her neck, towards her jaw. She didn’t want to show it, but a shudder of pleasure rippled through her, feeling the warm breath on her skin and the heat from the big square hand that rested on her thigh. He didn’t kiss her, but just warmed her up with his steady breathing, face resting next to her shoulder. Her breasts betrayed her, swelling within the confines of her tank top, the nipples pushing at the material, into his huge arm. With one easy move, he grasped the back of her neck and pushed his lips into hers, kissing her with an angry hunger, as if trying to prove something. She softened against him, letting him relax and kissed him with a gentleness that was particular to her. With his mended shoulder, he propped himself against her and willed her down, on her back. Naked, slender, firm, warm, he towered over her, not interrupting their kiss, molding her mouth with his, breathing her breath, loving and caressing her lips with his tongue. She grabbed handfuls of muscle around his back and shoulders, tense like a string against him, feeling him bite at her, as her long hair tangled within his fingers. With her hips raised towards his, he had no difficulty sliding her pajama bottoms down her thighs, and she kicked the pants off her ankles impatiently.
The sun was setting outside, and murky darkness swallowed the room, while an automatic light went on in the salon.
“The food will be here,” she panted, finally pulling away from him.
“Not yet,” he argued, kissing her again, and slowly sliding his hand between her naked thighs, rendering her powerless, as his lips slid up and down the column of her throat.
She inhaled sharply, as his searching fingers felt around her belly and then her warm, wet sex, sliding past the barrier of the lips and resting his thumb on the swollen, aching clit, causing her to cry out into his neck when he stroked her gently, tentatively.
His pale watery blue eyes glittered in the darkness, watching her, the look of pleasure that spread on her face, the steady, but quickening rise and fall of her breasts against his chest. She squeezed his arm above the elbow, her thin fingers digging painfully into his skin, and the pain only increased when he slipped deeper into her, feeling and stroking her with steady, measured rhythm, enjoying every moment of her pleasure, and of the strength with which she tugged on him.
“Caleb,” she gasped, and he kissed her indulgingly, flicking his tongue over lips, feeling lightheaded, as the scent of her washed over him and sweat bathed his body, plastering his hair to his forehead. The need to taste her was so overwhelming, that he swung down in an instant and pushed his mouth into the fragrant cavity of her sex. His hot palms smoothed the tender skin on her inner thighs and she lifted her hips to meet his mouth, still reeling from the pleasure of his fingers, now replaced by the intense joy of his tongue. She gasped and panted, rising on her elbows, watching his head between her legs, the mischievous twinkle of his eye when their gazes met and hearing him whisper, “all for you…”
She bit her lower lip, brushing her hand over his head and his neck, gently urging him to continue his fantastic ministrations. His shoulders looked dark against her pale soft thighs and the contrast between them, all the hard ridges of his body, that strength, muscles, veins, hair, vise-like grip of his arms made her buckled against his bristled chin, just as he tugged on her bursting clitty with his sharp teeth. He pressed her into the mattress, her legs and knees, pinning her in one place, licking voraciously, still unsatisfied. She fell back across the bed. Thoughts, dreams and needs were all mixed up in her head, and she found that she couldn’t keep a straight train of thought for more than a second. Everything was concentrated in her core, in her sex, which leaked and exploded wantonly against his lips. She cried shamelessly, rising and falling, darkness and light flashing before her eyes, her neck and arms and back damp with sweat.
He smiled at her, and licked his lips with pleasure, savoring the remnants of her on his tongue. Her heart was struggling not to jump out of her chest, as she gulped huge breaths of air. He rested his cheek atop her womb, casually, as if it were a pillow, while he played with her fingers, licking them, and kissing her palm and fist, waiting for her to come to.
At last, she felt him laugh.
“What’s funny?”
“Your sex is on fire,” he said.
“What?”
“I don’t know…It just sound s funny. Your sex is on fire.”
“Is MY sex on fire? Or my SEX?”
He shrugged and finally lifted his head, “I don’t know. Take it as you will.”
“So, you think you are forgiven? Just like that?” she inquired.
“I was hoping that I was moving in the right direction. Towards forgiveness and awesome makeup sex.”
“Oh, so I also have to put out now?”
“Eventually, I was hoping that you might.”
There was a knock on the door and a voice called out “room service”.
The man who wheeled the service cart was greeted by a very lovely and very young long haired woman, who was wearing nothing but pajamas and looking somewhat disheveled.
“Where would you like this?” he inquired.
“Anywhere is fine,” she invited.
He knew that no other than Caleb Followill was staying here and he stalled a bit, wheeling the cart slowly, hoping to get a glance at the rock star. It was against hotel policy to gawk, but gawk he did when Caleb suddenly appeared, basically naked, barefoot, clad only in unbuttoned jeans. He rubbed his hands together and exclaimed, “Food! Excellent.” The beautiful girl slipped the man a tip and he wondered if she was the girlfriend. Whoever she was, Caleb sure looked happy.
They sat side by side, on a sofa, in silence, and ate.
It was good, not to need to talk all the time. She thought that Jared would’ve probably become suicidal in this atmosphere of comfortable peace.
Caleb poured her another glass of Bollinger, and she took a sip of the dry, sharp, fragrant liquid, as its effervescence scorched her throat pleasantly.
He ate little, just enough to get him through the concert and the evening, without passing out. Prior to performing, he didn’t like to stuff his face, knowing that he would probably have to vomit at some point anyway.
He picked at some fish, a little chicken, rice, salad. But when he spotted her Caprese salad, with fat, marble-white slices of mozzarella sandwiched between glistening tomato slices and bright, emerald-green basil leaves, all drenched with a liberal sprinkling of olive oil , he pulled the dish towards him and she smiled, allowing him to eat all of it. They finished the first bottle of Bollinger and Caleb opened the second one.
“All right, are we done?” she concluded, once they finished eating.
“What about dessert?”
“Dessert?” Caleb wasn’t much of a dessert man, not possessing a sweet tooth, “I didn’t order any.”
“Hmmmm,” he thought for a moment and then said, “well, I could make something…”
“Out of what?”
He looked like he was considering something, and then with a sly smile said,
“Allow me…”
There was butter in a small silver plated plate, and he dipped two fingers in the soft mass.
“A Tennessee biscuit –that’s what I call it,” he murmured and moved closer to her.
“Some perversion?” she huffed.
“Would I ever be perverse?” he asked with an innocent smile.
“Um, yes. Most of the time.”
“Well, let’s see.”
He pulled her shirt down, baring her breast and then pulled her closer, so that she was almost on his lap. Carefully, he smeared the butter over the breast and then reached for the jars of sugar and cinnamon that stood on the tray. She watched him, the acute concentration on his handsome face, the tip of his tongue sticking between his teeth, as he sprinkled her breast with sugar and flicked a pinch of cinnamon over her nipple.
“Ah, looks good!” he admired his work, and added, “wouldn’t you want to finish dinner with something like this?”
Without waiting for her answer, he closed his mouth on her breast licking the sweetened butter off, sucking on the spicy sweetness of the cinnamon. The delicious scent wafted all around them, and she thought that she smelled like a bakery. Holding his head to her breast, she watched him pull her nipple with his teeth, biting it gently, yet causing a flash of heat to spread from her breast to her womb, as it flooded almost instantly.
“May I have another one, ma’am?” he requested with that same warm, crooked smile.
“I think so,” she breathed, as he arranged her on top of him and she straddled him, quickly taking off her shirt and watching him grant the same attention to her other breast, though this one received a more generous sprinkling of cinnamon. He licked and sucked slowly, loving the experience, switching between her breasts and her lips, kissing her softly and playfully. His mouth tasted like a cinnamon bun, rich and sweet and sinful.
Rocking back and forth on top of him, she felt his erection expand and grow between their bodies, and she released it from its confines at once, causing him to sigh with pleasure. He pulled her pajama pants down and stroked her bottom with his large hand, which was always a desirable, and a somehow comforting gesture, which she secretly loved. She slid onto him slowly, teasingly, allowing him to disappear in her only bit by bit at a time, not gulping him down instantly. Then, just as suddenly, she plunged down fully, and after two strokes laughed, “yo vengo, yo vengo.’
“Oh, Lord,” he pinned her down, keeping her in place, “the vengo aint gonna come for a while.”
“A while?” she asked, kissing him slowly, rising and falling within his embrace, as his hands held her bottom and the small of her back.
“A long while,” he promised with a low, guttural moan, his eyes closing.
His thick member filled her to what seemed like the very end, yet she pulled him deeper still, allowing her long hair drape over his face and shoulders, watching him suck her on her nipples with such enjoyment that it only made her love him even more. This strange, often awkward man, who didn’t always seem comfortable within his own skin seemed to come into his own with her. There were no secrets between the two of them. Everything was bare and exposed, unfiltered. A lonely, old soul , he received something from her that he needed, and she knew that there would be no going anywhere from him.
Sliding up and down, she smiled at him, rubbing the ridge of his nose with her finger and then kissing the array of faint freckles that dotted his skin.
“G-d, are you sexy,” he vowed, amazed.
She kissed him, burying her face in his neck, where lemon and cinnamon mingled together against her lips and heard him whisper, “you unhinge me every time.”
Her hips worked against him with firm, but languid strokes, moving with precision, working him into a frenzy that made his hands dig painfully into her back and veins bulge on his arms. She smiled and pressed her lips to his bat-like ear, murmuring softly, “now you come for me.”
“Huh…having your way with me, damn woman,” he laughed hoarsely, pushing upward, satiating himself within her, impatient, yet trying to remain rational, fighting himself.
“And succeeding,” she smiled with a smirk, feeling him inside, wet and huge, and all hers.
Half drunk on a bottle and a half of Bollinger, they arrived to the venue.
While they were setting up and dressing, she went outside, to clear her head, which was swimming from cigarette fumes and alcohol.
Huge crowds snaked around the building. The building housed about 5,000 people and the concert was naturally sold out. The discrepancy between the band’s popularity here and in the US was still staggering to her. Under no circumstances would they be able to take a walk around here, without being recognized at least once, while in Nashville they could probably have sex in the middle of Broadway in the dead of winter and no one would bat an eye—if there was anyone to bat any eyes.
“So, you stayed?”
She turned around. Jared was standing behind her, smoking.
“Where would I go? And why wouldn’t I? and hello, by the way.”
“Hi.”
His hair was ready for the concert, and he looked quite handsome, with that cigarette dangling from his lips.
“I am…I mean I am happy you are here. And staying,” he said.
“Well, I am happy too.”
“They are gonna broadcast this concert online, on MSN.”
“Yes, Caleb told me.”
Jared took a long drag and then asked,
“So he can pretty much anything? Like, anything?”
“How do you mean?”
“I know that you know,”
“Jared, stop being cryptic! What? Am I aware that he has other women—yes. Is that what you want to hear? We have an arrangement, which works for both of us.”
“But you still love him?” demanded he.
“Yes, I love him. Why do you care?”
“I don’t know why I care…,” he mumbled.
She was aware that Jared was intensely attracted to her, and her unavailability was a thorn in his side.
“Jared—even if I didn’t love him, even if we broke up—what do you think? I’d move on to you? The younger brother?”
“Is it so impossible? Why? I’d not cheat on you!”
She chuckled.
“Is that so?”
“I don’t cheat!”
“As I recall, you wanted to have your way with me…that constitutes cheating, on Alisa…”
Jared flushed at the memory of his unsuccessful attempt at forceful seduction.
“All right, fine. Your loss.”
“Maybe. Listen, let’s just move on and realise that in this lifetime, it aint going to happen.”
He thought for a moment and then offered,
“When we are in Scotland, can you come and play golf with me? I fucking hate golf, but I’d play with you.”
She smiled and nodded.
“Yes. I’ll play with you. I am not much of a golfer, but I think it would be fun.”
He took her hand and squeezed it. They parted as friends, for now.
Backstage, in a dressing room, Caleb was sipping tea, and the four band members were still discussing the set list. Soon Nacho was up, setting things up on stage. The audience was shrieking and chanting “Nacho”.
“Keep “Trani”? or end with “Arizona”?” mulled Caleb.
“I say keep both, but take out “King of the Rodeo”,” suggested Jared.
“Can’t take it out—people wait for it.”
“We have too many long songs,” insisted Caleb.
“Good! Let’s just go boom, boom, boom and be done,” drawled Nathan.
She sat on the sidelines, listening and watching. While others might not have realized it, but these were moments to remember. She knew that she was witnessing not just the creative process, but was privy to something intimate, internal. She also knew that she had inspired some of these songs, and thought no one but their creator and she were aware of that, it filled her with a sense of pride. And maybe Caleb wasn’t a nice guy, or a good man, but he was the chosen one, and for better or worse, she loved him, just as he was. Because to her, he was perfect.
At last he consulted his watch and said,
“Fuck, I gotta get dressed.”
Nacho ran in, grabbed the final set lists and left.
For a moment, they were left all alone. Matthew and Jared went to smoke; Nathan was plastering his fingers and changing into sneakers.
“Hey,” she came up to Caleb and helped him into his impossibly tight black jeans. They were so fitted, they looked painted on him. He kissed her.
“Here,” she handed him a box.
“What’s that?” he was surprised. When he opened it, he saw a platinum chain. She looked up at him and said,
“I am proud of you. Good luck on the tour. You deserve it. The album, it truly is amazing. I might not have said it before, but I think that you and the rest of the boys really are artists.”
Caleb was clearly touched. His large hand trembled a bit when he cupped her cheek and stroked it tenderly.
“Wouldn’t have happened without you,” he said and kissed her slowly. “The day you took a chance on me was….well, it was pretty profound in my life. Thanks for everything. Forgive me for being…me.”
“Nah,” she shrugged, as she put the chain around his neck and he pulled on a black sleeveless top. “Seeing this vein,” she drew the tip of her tongue along the visible vein of his bicep, “makes a lot of things worthwhile.”
He smiled.
“You like them veins, don’t you?”
“I like your veins. I like a lot of things about you. Pretty much everything.”
She straightened out his cross on his chest and smoothed his hair that was parted severely in the middle.
“Stay sweet,” she whispered.
“My ma says this to us.”
“We come from the same place. Your ma and I. We know what works on our boys.”
“Would you like it if I played this concert for you?”
“Yes, I would,” she nodded.
“Then it’s for you.”
“You ready?” Nathan thrust his head in the room.
“Yeah,” Caleb nodded.
“Oh,” she grabbed him and quickly asked, “is “Spiral Staircase” on the list?”
He thought and then raised his shoulders,
“I don’t remember…Why? I don’t think it is.”
“Can you just do me one favor. Just one. Can you play “Spiral Staircase” for me?”
He gave her a curious look and said,
“All right. Have to look at the list. So “Spiral”?”
“Yeah…just for me.”
Caleb usually didn’t take requests, but remembering his earlier behaviour, he decided to make an exception and said,
“Fine. We’ll do it for you. You’ll be…inspirational…”
Her lips curved in a satisfied smile.
It was going to be a memorable performance.
