Chapter 70

“Well, in that case, I need to find something to wear, don’t I? Guess my jeans are okay, but I need a clean shirt or something.”

“You got anything here that would fit me?”

“I’m sure I……..oh, actually, I’ve got your Philly Soul t shirt that you left behind. It’s been laundered, if you want that.”

“Cool. Now you need something - where are the clothes?”

Sara was crouching to pick up the used wipes and packets, then she straightened and pointed at the closet.

“In there.”

“You go toss those in the trash, then, and I’ll find you something to wear.”

Once she was a safe distance away, Sara spoke. “He cooks, he cleans, and he’s a personal shopper! The perfect man!”

“Hussy!” Jon called back mildly as he opened the closet, seeing the array of clothes. “Wow.”

He began flipping through hangers, not looking closely, just waiting for something to catch his eye. Something did. Pure, virginal white, with just a deep blue ribbon adding a splash of colour. He pulled the hanger out of the closet to take a closer look. It was a long-sleeved top, in some kind of crinkled fabric, with a deep v-neck and the blue ribbon tying just under the bust-line. For some reason, it made Jon think ‘Little House on the Prairie’ or something, and he was still looking at it, absently rubbing his thumbnail below his lower lip, when Sara came back.

“What have you found, then?”

“This.” He held up the hanger, and Sara looked dubious.

“That’ll look sweet, with black underwear.”

“So don’t wear any.” Jon said, not really seeing a problem with that, but Sara’s frown deepened.

“I think it’s too small for me,” she saw the disappointed look on Jon’s face, “but I’ll try it on, see how it is, if you want me to?”

Grinning, Jon took the hanger out and handed the top to Sara. She took it and headed for the bedroom.

“Where you going?”

“Mirror.” She said over her shoulder.

Jon followed her through a few seconds later, entering the bedroom just in time to see her hand inside the top, tucking her breasts more comfortably into the shaped top.

“I could’ve done that for you.” He suggested, and she smiled at him in the mirror.

“I’ll bet you could. It’s too small, isn’t it?”

Standing back, Jon considered. The top was snug fitting, and the ribbon was just tight enough to push her breasts a little higher in the v-neck, giving a revealing yet decorous decolletage. The sleeves and lower part of the top were slightly looser, clinging lovingly to her body to just on her hips. With the pigtails, she looked so innocent and childlike that Jon almost felt depraved to be lusting after her, but the teasing lights in her eyes belied the innocence.

“Looks perfect to me, Sara. I love it - you look so sweet and innocent.”

“I am sweet and innocent.” She batted her eyelashes at him and he laughed.

“You’d look more innocent if you still had your panties on, babe.”

“Good point. I just need to find them.”

She picked up the scrap of cloth and stepped into the thong. “Did you find your Soul shirt? It should be on the shelf in the closet.”

“Yeah, I saw it, I’ll get it in a minute.”

Jon pulled on his jeans and boots then went back out into the studio, finding his shirt and pulling it on. Sara came through with her jeans on, still barefoot, with the white top sitting just on the waist of her low-slung jeans. Jon gave a low wolf-whistle when she appeared, making her giggle as she went in search of her sandals.

Finally ready, they left the studio and went downstairs to the Chevelle. As Jon opened the door for her, Sara stopped with a grin.

“That’s why you picked this top - it matches your car!” She pointed to the blue and white paint of the hood.

“Well, now that you mention it……..” Jon ducked away with a laugh as she swung at him.

They both got into the car and Jon keyed the ignition before he spoke again.

“Anyway, it’s a compliment - you both have classic, classy bodywork, and once you get the motor running, oh boy!”

Sara couldn’t keep from laughing at that, and the goofy grin on his face as he leered at her theatrically.

“You’re mad, you know that? Completely and utterly crazy!”

“Yep, but I’m happy, so who cares!”

They must’ve picked exactly the right time for the drive into the city, because there was virtually no other traffic, and Jon swung the Chevelle into the underground parking area barely half an hour after they’d left the studio. Billy appeared the instant he heard the snarl of the old Chevy engine reverberating around the tunnel, and he was there to open the door for Sara as Jon stopped. He graciously handed Sara out of the car, and by the time he’d gone around the hood, Jon was already out.

“Take care of her, Billy.”

“Don’t you worry about that, Mr Bongiovi. She’ll be safe with me.”

Jon and Sara headed for the lift, and Jon pulled out his cellphone.

“We never phoned Richie, to say we were leaving. I better tell him we’re on our way up.”

In the time it took for the lift to arrive in the basement, Jon called Richie and told him they were on their way. Richie sounded a little distracted, but he said he’d see them in a few minutes then hung up the phone. Jon and Sara stepped into the lift hand in hand for the swift ride to the suite.


Up in the suite, Richie called downstairs for coffee, then hesitated and added a bottle of vodka to the order.

“Why the fuck not?” He muttered darkly as he hung up the phone.

He tried to shake off the filthy mood, knowing he didn’t want Sara to be on the receiving end of one of his rare tantrums, but he just couldn’t. The recent call had left a foul taste in his mouth, and with the rage he could feel building, getting drunk seemed the best course of action. As he heard the door open, and Jon’s voice, he tried to brighten his expression, but one look at Jon’s face when they came into the sitting room told him he’d failed.

“Rich? What’s wrong, bro?”

Richie just shook his head - he didn’t want to discuss it - and Sara looked at him closely then turned to Jon.

“I’m just going to borrow your bedroom, dry my hair. Is that okay?”

“Sure, baby.” Jon knew she was just giving them space, and he smiled in acknowledgement as she left the room.

“C’mon, Richie, spill it.” Jon told him as soon as Sara was gone.

There was a knock at the door, and the room service waiter brought in the order, Jon raising his eyebrows silently at the bottle of vodka. Once the waiter had gone, he picked up the booze.

“Okay - what? What’s happened?”

“Gimme a drink.”

“Fuck that, Richie. What’s going on here. Shit - is it Ava? Is she okay?”

At the mention of his princess, Richie crumpled, sagging into a chair with a defeated look on his face.

“She’s fine. I just spoke with Heather, to tell her I got my dates confused and I was in Florida this weekend, and she went nuts. I mean, she fuckin’ lost it, Jon! I’ve never heard her that mad.”

“What, because you can’t take Ava?”

“I think so.” Richie looked utterly bewildered. “She said she had plans for the weekend, so I’d better sort something out. Bro - I told her I’d come get Ava and bring her to Florida for the weekend, and she just started yelling that Ava wasn’t spending the weekend alone while I was out partying. Hell, Heather knows I don’t do that when Ava’s around. I barely even drink when I’ve got her.”

Jon studied Richie. The look on his face was too agonised to be just about a weekend.

“What else? There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Richie sighed. “She just said, well, that if work was more important to me than Ava, she’d see about cutting visitation. Christ, Jon, you know how much Ava means to me. I don’t know what I’ll do if Heather takes her away from me.”

“And the booze is gonna help you how exactly? Rich - did you ever think maybe Heather said that on purpose, to try to push you into making a mistake, so she can cut you out of Ava’s life? She’s certainly sneaky enough to do it. Don’t let her win, bro.”

His head in his hands, Richie considered what Jon had said. Since he’d spoken with Heather, he’d been terrified that he was going to lose his little girl, and all common sense had left him. Now, when he thought about it rationally, he could see that it was just so typically Heather, twisting things around to suit herself. He knew the only real reason she had custody was that Californian judges almost always gave custody to the mother, despite the fact that he’d been like a single parent for much of Ava’s life. Didn’t matter to the judge that he was the one standing with her at her little lemonade stand, he was the one looking after her and he was the one comforting her when she had nightmares. All the judge saw was a pretty young mother versus a guy from a rock band, and instinct made the judge side with the mother, the one who’d borne the child, not the one who was raising the child. It didn’t hurt either that Heather was an actress, and able to give the performance of a doting mommy who just couldn’t bear to lose her little girl.

“Fuck!” Richie spat viciously, then raised his head, his eyes clear now as he looked over at Jon. “Thanks, bro. You’re right. Fuck Heather and her games. I’ll fly home tomorrow, pick up Ava, and meet you in Florida on Friday night. Okay?”

“Fine with me, Rich.”

There was a soft sound from the hallway, then Sara peeked around the door, the mane of hair falling around her face.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course you can, baby!”

“Yeah, get in here, girl.” Richie stood up to walk toward her. “Sorry, Sara - I just had a run-in with my ex, and I guess I was a bit mad. You look gorgeous as usual.” He hugged her gently. “I love your hair like that.”

“Oh, it’s just all crinkly because of the pigtails. I guess it matches the top, though.”

“I ordered coffee when Jon called. Figured you could use some after a tough day at work.”

“Always. I always need coffee!”