What Now? Read online

  “Hi, I’m calling from Nick Badley’s suite. Mr. Badley would like pancakes with lots of fruit, strawberry compote and a pot of - ” she broke off abruptly and her mouth dropped open as a bedroom door opened and the two ladies (and that noun was used very loosely) from the club strolled out wearing last night’s dresses and holding their heels in their hands. Their hair was tousled as if they’d just tumbled out of bed and pulled on the dresses over their heads.

  The voice in her ear jerked her out of her shock. “Would that be a pot of coffee?”

  “Um, yes, coffee. Thank you.” She hung up the phone as they passed the living room without acknowledging her and headed for the foyer as if they were strolling down the Strip and not out of Nick Badley’s bedroom, or what she assumed was his bedroom. Both of them! Her mouth hung open in disbelief and her brow furrowed as she sought to process what she was seeing. Nick Badley had slept with not one, but both of them? Actually she’d be surprised if much sleeping had taken place. She was a journalist so she wasn’t oblivious to what went on, but this was the first time she’d seen it with her own eyes. This was what she’d be dealing with for the next few weeks? Lord, is this really where I’m supposed to be? I think you made a mistake.

  About ten minutes later, Nick sauntered out in jeans, a black T-shirt (she wondered if he wore any other color) and sporting bare feet. He looked refreshed, with his hair still wet from the shower and his face clean shaven. All signs of the debauchery of the night before were washed away.

  “Is my breakfast here yet?” he asked, looking around.

  Do you see it here? She thought sarcastically. No ‘sorry to keep you waiting’? No embarrassment that two women dressed in last night’s clothes just walked out of your bedroom? The reports about him were seemingly accurate, for once.

  “No. I ordered it less than fifteen minutes ago.”

  He stopped by the couch and picked up his guitar, strumming it idly while he strolled unhurriedly towards the booth. She had to bite her tongue to hold back from asking him what she really wanted to ask. Instead she said: “Would you say that your reputation as Nick Bad has been unfairly exaggerated by the media?” She didn’t know how she managed to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

  “You know how you people exaggerate everything.”

  “Would it be exaggerating to say that you slept with two women at the same time last night?” she asked.

  “For the record, at the same time would have been an impossible feat,” he corrected without missing a beat. “However, what I would say is that it’s really none of your business.”

  “Since I’m here to document your life, in a way it is my business.”

  A knock at the door announced room service.

  “You better be careful what you document or your TV station may need a good lawyer. I need a cup of coffee and something to eat,” he said, heading for the door.

  Great start, thought Shari.

  As soon as the waiter left the tray on the dining room table and departed with what must have been a huge tip, judging by the smile on his face, Nick started uncovering dishes.

  “Have you had breakfast yet? You’re welcome to share mine.” Shari was surprised by the offer. He seemed to have lost his animosity towards her, at least temporarily.

  “I had a late breakfast.”

  “At least have some of the fruit. There is more here than I can eat. Everything is oversized in Vegas, even the portions.”

  “That’s very generous of you. Thank you.” Shari pulled out a chair and accepted a small plate with fruit piled on it.

  “I’m nothing if not generous.” He smiled.

  “With yourself as well, apparently,” she muttered around a strawberry.

  He laughed. “I have more than enough to go around so why not share?”

  She choked. She hoped that he did not mean that the way it sounded.

  He laughed. “I can’t believe that you’re shocked Shari Goodwin.” The stress was back on the ‘Good’. “You’re a reporter, nothing should shock you.”

  “I think a threesome would shock most decent people.”

  “So are you saying I’m not decent?” he asked, putting a forkful of pancake into his mouth.

  She diplomatically said nothing. She couldn’t believe that he didn’t see anything wrong with how he’d spent the night. Maybe it was a common practice with him.

  “Maybe we should get to the reason I’m here,” she prevaricated.

  “As soon as I finish my breakfast. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  Of course there were extra cups on the tray. After all it was Nick Badley’s room.

  Nick demolished the pancakes and fruit in short time. Shari was amazed to see him put away such a large amount of food, considering he had no extra weight on him. She decided that he either had a very high metabolism or he worked out, although she didn’t know when he would have time for that. Then again, some of these suites no doubt had their own gyms.

  He got up and dropped his napkin on the tray, leaving everything all over the table. She compared that to how she had packed her dishes up after eating her breakfast and put the tray outside the door for room service to pick up.

  Heading back to the booth, he sat down with a satisfied sigh. “I feel human again. OK, I’m all yours.”

  Turning on her voice recorder she asked him: “How did you get into music?”

  “You’ll have to blame my mother for that. She was a music teacher, so there was always music in the house. She taught me the piano and I taught myself the guitar. She bought me my first acoustic guitar when I was fifteen and I was hooked. High school band, small clubs, big clubs, big break.” He made it sound easy, but the journey had been like trying to launch a rocket. The effort and energy that went into getting the initial lift off made the rest of the flight seem almost effortless in comparison.

  “Tell me about your family.”

  “I don’t talk about my family. They are far removed from this life and I prefer to keep it that way.”

  “I can understand that and I’m not looking to drag your family into the eyes of the public. I want to know about them to help me uncover the truth about who you are.”

  “If you can do that I’d nominate you for a Pulitzer, because I don’t even know the truth of who I am,” he laughed mirthlessly. “But, so you know, I didn’t just emerge from the underworld…” He paused dramatically and she smiled reluctantly, remembering the image of him coming up from below the stage.

  “I don’t expect to see this anywhere in your documentary,” he warned. She nodded. “My parents live in Sonora, a small town in California. It’s between Fresno, Sacramento and San Jose. They are regular, middle class folks and church goers, so please don’t include what you think happened last night in your story. It would devastate my mother who is one of the few people who still believes I’m a good boy.”

  She smiled derisively at that.

  “I get my passion for music from her. My dad has a classic car repair shop, which is probably where I get my love for cars. He still likes to tinker around and restore classics. I have two sisters who live on the West Coast as well. They’re married to decent guys and have a bunch of kids between them. I’m the anomaly in the family.”

  “Are you close?”

  “Yes, we’re actually pretty close, considering, and I try to make it home for Thanksgiving if I’m not on the road and definitely for the Holidays.”

  “So you’re going home next month?”

  “Yeah. I need the break. And the sanity fix,” he joked.

  Shari was just about to pounce on that comment when Nick’s phone rang, interrupting them.

  “Hi, Lily,” he answered. “Coming.” He disconnected the call and headed for the front door. “Apparently Lily will be joining us.”

  “How’s it going?” Shari heard Lily ask as she walked past the living room.

  “Not bad, considering. I was just telling Shari a bit about my family and you know I don’t do that, so she�
��s good.”

  “Hi, Shari! Are you realizing that Nick is not as bad as he’s made out to be?”

  Shari diplomatically held her peace and smiled at Lily.

  “Actually, I can’t say that yet,” she said truthfully. “But he was just telling me that he always goes to his parents’ for the Holidays, which is rather sweet.”

  “Hey, you should go with him so that you can see that side of his life,” Lily suggested.

  “Lily, you can’t just invite me to Nick’s parents’ for Christmas!” Shari exclaimed.

  “That’s Lily for you. Always trying to arrange my life. Maybe it’s not a bad idea. My parents won’t mind and my mother loves a big gathering. Unless you have other plans.” He said to Shari, checking for a ring. “No husband. Boyfriend or parents expecting you home?”

  “No husband,” she agreed, waiting for the pang to come, but surprisingly felt none, “and my mother is going to the Caribbean to visit family for Christmas.” Her dad had died several years before.

  “Well, come then. I’ll let my mother know. They have plenty of room now.”

  She was tempted. It would definitely be good for the story if she could see Nick Badley with his family.

  “You don’t know anything about me,” she protested half-heartedly, giving him an out. “I might be a jewel thief or…” she fumbled for another excuse.

  He studied her, assessing the single pair of studs in her ears and her slender watch.

  “If you’re a jewel thief, you certainly don’t flaunt the merchandise and, from your reaction to my guests, I can tell that your name is fitting. My mother will love you. So it’s settled. Just leave the camera guy behind. I don’t want the faces of my family in the documentary.”

  “What guests?” Lily asked. “Or do I want to know?”

  “You don’t want to know,” Shari advised her. Lily looked more curious than ever but, before she could open her mouth, Shari said: “OK, I’ll go. If your mother says it’s OK.” She was beginning to get excited about the assignment for the first time. It would be interesting to see another side of Nick Badley, if there was one.

  Chapter 4

  “So what brings you to my suite, Lily? Making sure that I don’t say anything to sully my image? I don’t suppose it can get any worse. Or to make sure that I don’t come on to Shari?”

  “Really, Nick! We need to downplay that bad boy image. It’s getting a bit out of control. Besides, we need to reach a wider audience so you have to show your good side more.”

  There’s a good side? Shari wondered.

  “Not that you’re doing badly now. “Moving On” just jumped seven notches on Billboard and is poised to go to number one and you have nearly one thousand more followers on Twitter than you did a week ago. Speaking of which, you should tweet something today.”

  “Why don’t you tweet something? I don’t have the time or the interest in tweeting. It’s bad enough that I can’t walk down the street without someone in my face and now you expect me to tell them my every thought as well?”

  “If you want to stay top of mind, you’ve got to be present on the social media networks, Nick. Do you know how many followers the Justins have and how much they tweet?”

  "No and I don’t care.” He was getting tired of Lily’s constant badgering. “I’m not a pop star. I don’t need to tweet every minute.”

  “Justins?” Shari interrupted cautiously.

  “Bieber and Timberlake,” Lily replied impatiently, as if Shari should know that. “Rock stars are a dying breed, Nick,” she warned.

  “Well, according to the charts and the sold out concerts, we’re not dead yet,” Nick tossed back at her.

  Lily couldn’t argue with that.

  “Can we continue the interview?” Shari asked Nick.

  “I've had enough." Nick said abruptly, getting up. "I need some air." Disappearing into the bedroom, he came out minutes later holding a pair of shoes, sunglasses, a cap and one of his many leather jackets.

  He quickly put on his shoes and jacket and started for the door, donning the sun glasses and pulling the cap down over his forehead. Shari stared after him. That was it? After talking for only half hour he was leaving to get air? She silently blamed Lily and her interruption. How was she supposed to get her job done like this?

  "I'll be back in time for the rehearsal at five," he threw over his shoulder.

  Shari looked at Lily in disbelief, opening her mouth to protest. Lily made a "calm down" gesture with her hand and mouthed 'Go with him', gesturing for Shari to follow him.

  "Wait! Do you mind if I come with you?"

  "Suit yourself," he replied indifferently. She quickly gathered up her stuff and followed him to the door, leaving Lily in the suite.

  The elevator opened as soon as Nick hit the down button as if even it responded immediately to the demands of the great Nick Badley. He stepped back gallantly and, almost mockingly, gestured for her to precede him. Two girls who were chatting away moved back to give them space. They did a double take and fell silent as Nick stepped in, obviously wondering if their eyes were deceiving them or if it was really him.

  As the lift descended, Shari cast a quick look at Nick and saw that he had his head bent as if trying to shield his face from the two curious girls who kept stealing glances at him. She was relieved when the elevator hit the ground floor and the doors swooshed open without them saying anything. With the mood that Nick was in, she wasn’t sure how he would respond. He waited until they all stepped out of the elevator before getting out, leaving the girls no choice but to move along.

  Striding to one of the entrance doors, he waited with barely restrained impatience until Shari reached the door that he held open for her. As he stepped into the courtyard, he was pleased to see that it was a perfect day for a walk.

  "I'm going to the fountains at Bellagio," he announced, heading towards the famous attraction. Shari had no choice but to follow him; not that she minded. This was her first time in Vegas and she was looking forward to seeing as much as she could. Reaching the fountains in minutes, they squeezed into a space along the wall bordering the pool and blended into the crowd. The fountains were just waking up.

  “Does this happen often?” Shari asked.

  “What?”

  “Elevators coming as soon as you touch the button, shows starting as soon as you turn up?”

  Nick smiled. “I never noticed,” he said, relaxing a bit. “The universe must know that I can’t stand to wait.”

  “And since the universe revolves around you, it responds by making sure you get what you want when you want it.”

  “It’s the least it can do in exchange for my soul.”

  “You’ve exchanged your soul? For fame and fortune?”

  “I’ve got fame and fortune and sometimes I feel as if I have no soul. So maybe somewhere along the line I exchanged it.” He sounded jaded.

  She didn’t know how to respond to that so she said nothing, turning, instead, to watch the fountains. She silently filed that comment away, adding it to the folder which she had mentally labeled “Nick Badley Unplugged”. They were the comments that came from him uncensored, when he seemed to be at his most honest.

  The soothing sound of the fountains as they leaped into the air and fell gracefully back into the pool to the music of Mozart quieted the restlessness in Nick. He was getting tired of flying into a city, performing and flying out in a day or two. The thought of doing ten cities in the next three weeks was as appealing as flying over the Bermuda Triangle. Worse yet, the only emotion he could summon at the moment as he thought about the final sold-out concert at Madison Square Garden was relief that the world tour would be over after that show.

  He was sorry when the sounds of Andrea Bocelli’s and Sarah Brightman’s “Time to Say Goodbye” faded, ending the show. While the crowd began to move away from the wall he remained, staring at the fading ripples as if clinging to something he was not ready to let go of yet. Shari was unwilling to intrude as he s
eemed relaxed for the first time since she’d met him.

  “Is that Nick Badley?” someone whispered loudly, abruptly shattering that peace.

  “I’m not sure. It looks like him. Should we ask him?”

  Shari glanced at Nick and saw his jaw tighten. He swung away from the wall, turning in the direction from which they had come.

  “Nick Badley?” Two excited teenage girls blocked his path. Nick hesitated before he said with a regretful smile: “Wish I was, girls. I get that all the time.”

  He lengthened his stride to put distance between him and the girls, who didn’t seem convinced. The Strip was teeming with people and Shari had to hurry to keep up with Nick’s longer strides. He seemed to be heading back to the hotel. While some people passed by him without any sign of recognition, several openly stared at him.

  The hotel loomed ahead of them with its magnificent pillars soaring almost to the full height of the building. The structure was perhaps a bit more conservative than some of the other hotels on the Strip, like the Venetian, with its recreation of Venice, Paris with its miniature Eiffel Tower or the Luxor, which was built in the shape of a pyramid. However, the interior was truly spectacular and its shows boasted some of the biggest names in the business.

  “I would gladly trade the road for a stint at a major hotel like Elton John or Rod Stewart.” He finally broke the silence. “But I have to pay my dues like they did.”

  “Do you consider being on the road ‘paying your dues’?”

  “After touring the world for the last six months, yeah, it’s beginning to feel like paying dues. Don’t get me wrong, I love the music and the fans, but sometimes I begin to lose the enjoyment, you know?”

  She nodded.

  “And then there’re all these hotels. They’re top of the line, I can’t deny that, but there’s nothing I would like more than to just sleep in my own bed. I bought a place in Brentwood a couple years ago and I’ve barely lived in it.” He headed for the doors they had walked through less than half hour ago.