Weekend in New York

Friday was a trial. Jennifer woke more sore than she had been the night before. She got a late start, since she had to go extra slow while she packed the car. It seemed like the slightest misstep sent spasms through her knee. She found a cane in the coat closet; a remnant from a sprained ankle several years ago, and thumped her way between the house and car several times before she was ready to go.

The girls had taken the train out of Boston and Jennifer picked them up at the local train station. They tossed their bags in the back seat, climbed in and were on their way.

“How’s the knee today?” Samantha asked.

“Hurts like a bitch,” Jennifer answered.

“Are you sure you’re alright to drive?” Cheryl asked. “I’d be happy to do it.”

Jennifer smiled. “Nah, I’m fine,” she lied. “I have some Advil onboard and about five pounds of ice strapped to my leg. Let’s just go!”

“So,” Samantha started, “tell us all about Richie. What’s he like in bed?”

With great gales of laughter, Jennifer told them all about Richie’s visit and the last few days, giving just enough details that her friends were satisfied, but not too much that she’d be embarrassed. While they rocked out to the iPod, they made their way through southern Mass and Rhode Island. Somewhere in Connecticut, they stopped at a fast food joint and loaded up on greasy fries and questionable hamburgers, laughing and talking the whole time. Once back in the car, they fired up the GPS and put in the address of the hotel where they were staying.

When they arrived, Jennifer gratefully handed her keys to the valet, and waited while the bellman loaded all their bags onto a cart. They got themselves checked in, and Jennifer slumped onto the couch and put her leg up. The knee was swollen and very tender to the touch.

“Ugh, thank God we’re here,” she said. “I’ve never been so happy to see the inside of a hotel suite in my entire life.”

She looked at the other girls, who were sprawled out on couches and chairs as well. The 5-hour drive made for a long day. “Who wants first dibs on the shower?” Samantha asked.

“Not me,” Jen said. “I just wanna sit. Make a couple of phone calls. Jon said to give him a call when we got here.” She smiled wickedly. “He thought we might be able to meet up with them at some point today, so we can celebrate Richie’s birthday.” Cheryl and Sam just stared at her. “But if you’d rather do something just the three of us...”

“Uh hello?” Cheryl said. “Have we met? I’m Cheryl, and I’m a Joviholic.”

The girls laughed and Jen took out her Blackberry. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ll let you know.” She started to dial, and Sam just stared at her. “What?” Jen asked.

“You have Jon Bon Jovi’s phone number in your Blackberry?”

“He insisted,” Jennifer said, smiling. “He’s bound and determined to get me and Richie together today, and told me to call him when I hit the city.” She scrolled down to Jon’s number and hit ‘send’.

“Yeah,” the answer came.

“Nice phone manners, there Jon. It’s Jennifer, we made it.”

Jon laughed. “Sorry, I’m in the middle of something. Glad you made it here okay. Rich told me you got hurt last night?”

“Nothing serious,” she answered. “So, what were your thoughts for today? What do you have going on?”

“We’ve got a few interviews this afternoon, but nothing tonight. Want to meet for dinner?”

“Lemme ask,” Jen said. She covered the mouthpiece. “Hey guys, want to have dinner with them?”

“You have to ask?” Sam answered, rolling her eyes.

Jennifer laughed. “Jon,” she said into the phone, “we’d love to. Where and when? Got it. OK, see you then. Bye.” Hanging up, she turned to the girls. “They’ll come and pick us up for a late supper, around nine or so. We got time. If you guys want to go out, don’t worry about me. I want to rest up for tonight.”

The girls ended up staying in, not wanting to leave Jennifer by herself. They watched the local news, showered and dressed, and by eight, were antsy.

“Where are we going again?” Cheryl asked.

Jennifer named an Italian restaurant. “Not sure where it is, but I’d trust Jon when it comes to food. Richie, too. They enjoy eating too much to pick someplace crappy.” The girls all laughed.

Richie called them from the car. “Sorry we didn’t come in to collect you girls, but there’s a pile of people down here, and we just don’t want to deal with it right now.”

“No problem,” Cheryl said. She was closest to the phone when it rang, and nearly dropped it when she heard Richie’s voice. “We’ll be down in a couple of minutes.” She hung up the phone, a sly smile on her face. “Jen, our chariot awaits,” she called.

Jennifer laughed. “Great, let’s go.”

In the lobby, the concierge met them in the lobby. “If you ladies will wait here a moment, I will have the driver bring the car around. The gentlemen didn’t want to wait in front of the hotel.”

The girls waited outside, glad the hot July day had turned milder. They looked expectantly up the block and shared a smile when they saw the sleek black limousine cruise up the block. The Lincoln glided to a stop and the driver jumped out.

“Evening, ladies,” he said with a smile. “Let me get the door for you.” He opened the door and one at a time the girls crawled in.

“Hi guys,” Cheryl said, smiling widely.

“Evening, boys,” Samantha drawled, her own smile lighting up the dim interior of the car.

“Where’s Jen?” a honey-dripping bluesy voice called.

“I’m coming already,” she said. “Give a gimp a break, huh?” She maneuvered into the car, being careful not to jostle her leg, and settled beside Samantha and Cheryl in the forward-facing seat. She settled with an “oof” and accepted a glass of something from Tico. “Good evening, gentlemen,” she said with a regal tilt of her head. Richie was closest to Jen, and leaned in for a kiss.

“Hey you,” he said, resting his big hand gently on her knee. She winced slightly, but was glad for his touch.

“So,” David said. “Who’s who?”

“Sorry,” Jennifer said. She introduced her girlfriends to the band, and the car took off.

By the time they got to the restaurant, they were all laughing. David was telling them a story about a practical joke he had played on Tico, lining his drum kit with a fine dusting of sneezing powder. During sound check, a huge cloud of powder poofed into the air, and Tico had to take another shower to get it all off of him.

“Yeah,” Tico had said, “You laugh, Davey-boy. Just remember what I told you.” He winked at the girls. “You fuck with my drums again, and I’ll shove a high-hat so far up your ass, I can play your head.”

“Like to see you try it, Tiny T,” David answered, ducking when Tico threw a mock punch at him.

The car pulled around to the backside of the restaurant, and the owner himself came out, waiting for the door to open. “Gentlemen, ladies,” he said, as people piled out of the car. “I have a private room ready for you; if you’ll please follow me.” Jon took a bag from the driver and led the party through the kitchens to an elegant private dining room. The chairs were covered in heavy burgundy brocade that went beautifully with the polished cherry-wood table.

The walls were cream colored, and a gorgeous chandelier hung overhead. Everyone settled around the table, and the owner disappeared, after promising to send his sommelier straight away. The man in question came around with bottles of champagne, and poured everyone a glass. Richie declined, sticking with water. After the man had left, Jon stood.

“Rich, you’re getting old man,” he said.

“Fuck you,” Richie said.

“No, no,” Jon answered, “I’ll leave that horrible job to Jennifer.” She blushed. “Anyway, happy birthday, man. Enjoy the last of your forties.”

“Here here,” everyone saluted, and clinked glasses together.

Jennifer leaned in to Richie. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she said, kissing him tenderly. She cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes. He winked at her and turned his head so he could lick her palm. Jennifer’s eyes fluttered briefly, as she struggled not to sigh at the table.

“So!” David called out. “It’s time for presents.” He grabbed for the bag that Jon had brought, and Jon slapped his knuckles.

“No grabbing,” he said, mock anger in his face. The girls giggled at their antics.

The guys had gotten Richie what Jon called “trinkets”. Jewelry, a new guitar strap, raunchy t-shirts. Jennifer’s favorite was one that had a big silhouette of a moose on it and said, “Got Moose?” Someone had drawn an enormous dick on the moose with a Sharpie. She’d have to borrow that one some time. Jon looked expectantly at Jennifer. “Well?” he asked her.

“What makes you think I got him a gift I want him opening in front of all you losers?” She ran a manicured nail along the plunging neckline of her dress. Samantha elbowed Jennifer roughly. She still couldn’t believe Jennifer was so utterly comfortable with these men. Jen just laughed at her and continued. “What if I told you I got this really sexy lingerie...”

David’s face lit up. “Yeah?”

“Back off,” Richie said with a scowl.

“C’mon, we’re all friends here…” David wheedled.

“NO!” Richie said.

Jon burst out laughing. “Before I’m short one piano player, what’d you really get him?”

Jennifer rolled her eyes and pulled a small box out of her purse, sending David a scathing look. “No, there’s no thong in here,” she said. Richie tried to pull it from her hands, but Jen held fast. “If you don’t like it, I can take it back.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” Richie answered. He tugged until she let go of the box, and untied the deep purple ribbon. He carefully slit the silver paper and David laughed at him and told him to hurry up. When he saw the distinctive blue box, he looked up at her, eyebrow winged.

“What?” She said. “What’s the point of having money if you can’t spend it on people you care about?”

Richie cracked open the box, and sucked in a breath. “Jennifer, darlin’, it’s beautiful. I love it!” He pulled out a heavy platinum chain with a thin matching oval hanging from it. Engraved on one side was “Adam & Joan”, and on the other was “Ava”. He handed it to her. “Put it on me?” He turned his back on her and she fastened the clasp. He turned, and the disc nestled in the hollow just under his collarbones.

“It looks good,” she said. “You really like it?”

“I love it. Really. Thank you.”

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” She leaned in for another kiss.

After a fantastic dinner where seemingly endless platters of food kept magically appearing from the kitchen, they all loaded up in the limo. At the hotel, Jen leaned in to whisper in Richie’s ear, “Are you sure you don’t want a private birthday party?” The other girls had gotten out of the car, and were waiting on the sidewalk. Passers-by were trying to peer into the car to see who was in there.

“Baby, I would love nothing more, but Jon has us starting early, and I won’t be able to concentrate on anything if I have your scent, your flavor all over me...”

“Oh hell, give it a rest, man, we can HEAR you for Christ’s sake,” David said.

Richie chuckled. “I will definitely take a rain check for tomorrow night, darlin’.”

“It’s a deal.”

Saturday morning was bright, sunny and warm. It was going to be a fantastic day for a concert. The girls were up and dressed early, and Cheryl took off for Central Park, to see about using the disabled entrance for Jen. Jennifer felt stupid because she wasn’t disabled, just clumsy, but Cheryl was having none of it. She called late morning to tell the others that she had secured a spot in line, and around noon time, Jen and Samantha left for Central Park to meet up with her.

They found Cheryl at one of the side-entrances, talking to the security people. Jen hobbled up and leaned against a tree.

“Steve,” Cheryl said, “This is my friend I was telling you about.”

“The one who tore up her knee in Boston the other night? Why aren’t you in the hospital, woman?”

Jennifer laughed. “What, and miss the concert of a lifetime?” She shook her head. “Uh-uh. I can have reconstructive surgery any time. When again in my life is my favorite band going to be playing in Central Park?”

Steve just laughed at her and shook his head. “You’re crazy.”

They waited on line for a couple of hours before they were let in. As they walked the paths, they could hear the far-away screams from the rest of the crowd as they raced to secure a spot in front of the stage. As they approached the stage from the side, barriers were moved aside, and the girls were able to grab a patch of grass about 100 feet from the stage. They set out their blankets, and settled in for a relaxing afternoon.

Close to six, Jen’s phone rang.

“Where are you baby?” Richie asked.

Jen laughed. “Sitting here on the lawn, off on Hughie’s side, about a hundred feet or so back. We’ll probably move closer once everyone stands up.”

“How’re you feeling?”

“Fine,” Jennifer said. “Seriously, don’t worry about me. How are you guys? I bet we got more sleep than you last night.”

Richie chuckled. “Dave’s still hurting but the rest of us are fine, thanks. Just wanted to check in. We have to go do some stupid interview now or something.”

Jen laughed. “Hey, tell Jon congratulations for us, okay?”

“For what?” Richie was puzzled.

“Bad team owner! Your Soul won! Don’t tell me none of your minions told you that.”

“No! Nobody did! HEY!” Jennifer heard him snag someone and ask about the score, then told the person to get their ass to Jon’s. “Can’t believe I didn’t know that. I’ll tell Jon. He’ll be pumped. Be prepared for a great show.”

“Always, sweetie. Now, go do your work and I’ll see you after?”

“Absolutely. I’ll come by your hotel and get you. I don’t know what time we’ll get out of here, and I don’t want you hanging around the park that late all by yourself and injured, to boot.”

“Yes, daddy,” Jennifer said.

“Shut up,” Richie said, sniggering. “I’ll make you pay for that, my pretty,” he said, doing a fair imitation of the wicked witch of the west.

“I certainly hope so,” Jen answered, her voice low and full of promise.

A few hours later, when the show was done, and the last bows were taken, Richie caught sight of Jen and smiled at her, blowing her a kiss. The girls made their way out to the street and were surprised they didn’t have to wait more than ten minutes for a cab. In New York City. At 10:00 on a Saturday night. They were back at the hotel by 10:30, and Jen was showered and changed by 11. Close to midnight, there was a knock at the door. Jennifer opened it to Richie.

“Rich!” She cried. “Come in! Come in! You guys were amazing tonight!” Richie gave her a lingering kiss that had the others sighing.

“Sorry girls,” he said, looping an arm around Jen’s waist, and looking anything but. “Needed a fix.” His smile lit the room, and Cheryl and Sam couldn’t help but smile back. They gazed appreciatively at his black form-fitting shirt, which left little to the imagination, and was unbuttoned nearly to his waist.

Jennifer hugged the other two girls while Richie gathered up Jennifer’s bags. “It was beyond awesome to spend the weekend with you guys,” she said, tearing up. “We’ll have to get together again soon. Real soon.”

Cheryl and Samantha watched wistfully as Jennifer left the suite with Richie. When they were in the hall, Richie led her to the alcove where the ice machine was stowed and gently backed her against the wall. He kissed her deeply, growling at the feel of her lips against his. Jen could feel his erection pressing into her, and reached between them to give it a squeeze.

Richie tore his mouth away. “Jesus, Jen, don’t do that – you’re likely to make me go off right here!”

“Only fair, sweetheart,” Jen said, “since I was wet from the minute you took the stage. Where are we going?”

“Upstairs,” Richie said, barely breathing. “I couldn’t wait to get across town before I could have you.”

“What are we waiting for then?”