Chapter 100

Out in California it was just after midnight, but despite the late hour, Richie and Linda were digging into an order of Chinese food that had just been delivered. Their intention of going out for dinner had fallen by the wayside when they went upstairs to shower and dress, the shower turning into a frenzy of kissing and fondling, which led inevitably to a passionate, up-against-the-tile-wall interlude which left them both exhausted. They’d staggered back through to the bed, water running down their bodies, and fell together onto the mattress, still breathing hard, and it was some time before they gave any more thought to food.

Richie suggested they just get something delivered, but he quickly qualified that by saying the one thing he wouldn’t recommend was pizza, since - to a New York or New Jersey native - Californian pizza would be a huge disappointment. Linda just laughed and suggested Chinese food, which met with Richie’s approval. The order he placed was enough to feed a houseful of people, but when Linda said so, he gave a sexy, growling chuckle.

“Girl, I gotta keep my strength up.” He looked at her, his eyes dark and hooded. “So do you.”

“Really? Why?” Linda teased, but the laugh faded when he replied, deadly serious.

“Because I want to hear you screaming my name when you cum.”

Slightly embarrassed, Linda blushed as she replied softly.

“Didn’t I already do that? The first time?”

“Hell, no.” He grinned, reminding her of the old quote from Dorothea Bongiovi, about the devil looking like Sambora. “That wasn’t screaming, honey. That was just a warm up.”

The copious amount of food, though, sapped their energy, leaving them somnolent and drowsy, so that they eventually stumbled as far as the living room, falling asleep huddled together on the couch, wrapped in bathrobes and each other’s arms.


Jon finally rolled out of bed at ten thirty, and he took a long shower before dressing and wandering downstairs in search of more coffee. Dot and the kids had gone out - Jon had a vague recollection of her saying where they were going, but he couldn’t exactly remember. Carrying a mug of coffee and a handful of cookies, Jon headed on out to his studio, wondering as he went what he should do about that after he moved out.

He half-heartedly tried to write, but every rock lyric he tried turned into a ballad, which made him think of Sara, which left him staring blindly across the room as scattered memories marched across his mind. Eventually, he just quit trying to write, and instead worked up a setlist for the show at Wachovia Center. Knowing Sara - and hopefully the kids - would be there, he threw in a few covers and rarities, realising as he finished that he’d have to get all the guys together to rehearse some of the songs, since he’d included one or two that they’d never even tried before.

A quick glance at his watch informed Jon that he’d actually been working - or trying to - for a few hours, which probably explained why he felt so hungry, since the cookies hadn’t lasted long. Returning to the house, he fixed himself a sandwich, then basically killed time until he reckoned it would be late enough in the UK to call Sara again.


Sara had spent her morning with the huntsmen, hounds and horses of the North Yorkshire hunt, photographing them at their day-to-day tasks as a kind of counterpoint to the action shots she already had. She wasn’t sure if the magazine would want to use these shots, but she’d decided to take advantage of the invitation extended by the Master of the hunt, as - if nothing else - Sara felt it could make for an interesting series of photographs. The kennel master in particular seemed very taken with the American photographer, and pretty much gave her carte blanche to do whatever she liked.

She finally escaped from the hunt kennels after the staff had treated her to lunch, and her driver returned her to the hotel mid-afternoon. She switched on her cellphone when she got into the ‘Rover, and about halfway to the hotel it rang with Jon’s voice.

“Sorry - I don’t mean to be rude.” She apologised to the man at the wheel. “Do you mind if I take this?”

“Not at all, Sara.” As usual, Sara had quickly convinced him not to stand on ceremony - that first names were fine with her. She smiled gratefully and answered the call.

“Hi.”

“Hi Sara. I was starting to think you weren’t there.”

“No - I was just talking to somebody else for a minute.”

“Oh. Is this a bad time?”

“There’s never a bad time for you to call me.” Sara turned slightly to the window as she spoke, trying for as much privacy as was possible in the confined space. “I’m just headed back to the hotel now.”

“So you’ve got a chauffeur again, then?”

“Mm-hm. Are you having a good day, Jon? What have you been doing?”

“Nothing much. The kids woke me at ten am.”

“You were still asleep at ten? You? The man who gets up after one and a half hours’ sleep and goes to the gym? You getting too old for these late nights, baby?”

“Well, I was up until three am, talking to a crazy hussy who is definitely gonna pay for that comment when I get my hands on her.”

“I can’t wait.” Sara murmured, and Jon grinned into the phone as he answered.

“Me neither, darlin’. I miss you so much. Hell, by the time I’ve welcomed you home properly, I may not have the energy for the Habitat benefit show.”

Sara blushed, hoping the driver couldn’t see her face, but Jon spoke again before she could form a response.

“Speaking of the Habitat show - I hope you don’t mind - but the kids might be there. Stephanie told the boys about you, and they all want to meet you. I suggested at the show, since you’ll be there anyway. Is that okay?”

“They want to meet me?”

“Yeah - that’s what they said.”

“Well, it’s okay with me. Hold on a second?”

“Sure, darlin’.”

They’d arrived back at the hotel, and Sara said goodbye to her friendly driver and slid down out of the Land Rover, speaking to Jon again as she walked inside, the case of cameras in one hand. As she reached her bedroom, she suddenly remembered something from the information she’d been given for her visit to Scotland in a few days, and realised she hadn’t told Jon yet.

“Jon - before I forget again - I’ve got some bad news about my hotel in Scotland.”

“Bad news? What?”

“According to the brochure, there’s no cellphone reception anywhere around that area. I’ll be cut off all the time I’m there.”

“Aw, shit! How long are you there?”

“Five days.”

“Five?! Jesus, I’ll go crazy if I can’t talk to you for five whole days, Sara.”

“I’m not looking forward to it either, Jon. You have email, though, right?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not the same. Better than nothing I suppose.”

“That’s what I thought. I mean, I don’t know if I’ll even get internet access, but it’s worth a try. Give me your email address anyway.”

Jon quickly rhymed off an address, and Sara noticed that it bore no reference to his name at all - probably to avoid any possibility of fans being able to find it, no matter how diligently or creatively they searched.

“If you still have my business card, my email is on there.” Sara said, and Jon chuckled.

“Baby, that card’s never out of my wallet. I’ll email you today, just to make sure I get it right. Just don’t laugh at my typing, okay?”

“I’m not making promises I can’t keep.” Sara giggled.

Jon heard a commotion at the front door, then Copper came bounding into the room, giving a deep woof of greeting as he approached.

“Is that a dog I hear?” Sara asked.

“Yeah. Copper just came in. Guess that means Dot and the kids are home.”

“You’d better go, then.” Sara said, and Jon sighed.

“I don’t want to , but you’re probably right. I feel like I’ve kinda neglected the kids recently.”

“Because of me? I’m sorry, Jon.”

“Don’t be crazy, Sara. That’s not what I meant. I’ll call you again tomorrow. Same time?”

“Sounds good to me, baby. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye Sara.”

“Bye.”

Laying down his phone, Jon tried to shake off his despondency, then he stood resolutely to go see his kids and play daddy again. He just hoped it’d keep his mind busy.

Sara, of course, didn’t have the benefit of anything to occupy her, and she had to settle for work in an effort to stave off the loneliness. It worked - sort of - and it wasn’t until much, much later - after another long soak in the bath - that she realised she hadn’t eaten since lunch. She didn’t feel particularly hungry, though - actually she hadn’t really had much of an appetite since that last day with Jon - so she just had some coffee then settled down with her book.

For both of them, the next few days fell into a kind of routine, with the high point of each day being their telephone conversation, although they both tried hard to keep as busy as they could. Jon spent a lot of time either at his office or in the studio, and he pushed himself through brutal workouts in the gym each evening, trying to exhaust himself so he’d sleep and not think of Sara too much. In her own way, Sara was doing the same kind of thing, working long hours, photographing not only the hunts but also the countryside around, taking long solitary walks and only returning to the hotel when darkness fell.

They had sent a few emails back and forth, and Sara sent Jon a photo of the countryside around the hotel, to show him what he was missing. She couldn’t help but laugh when he replied that it was her he was missing, but he attached a photo of his bed, with the heading ‘wish you were here!’.