Chapter 60

Richie was sitting in the suite, drinking coffee and playing around with his guitar when Jon walked in.

“Hey buddy - what’s happening?” Jon asked, heading straight for the fridge and a bottle of mineral water.

“Nothin’ much. How ya doin?”

“I’m good. So - how was your date? She still here?”

“No. She didn’t stay. It was a great evening, though.”

“She didn’t stay, but it was a great evening. What happened - she blow you off? Is the legendary Sambora charm failing?”

Sadly, Richie shook his head at Jon.

“Y’know, Jon, not everything is about sex.”

At that moment, Jon was taking a drink from his water, and he choked, spraying water onto the table. Once he’d stopped coughing, he wiped his mouth as he stared at Richie.

“I didn’t just hear that, did I? Since when isn’t everything about sex with you?”

Now Richie looked uncomfortable, as close to embarrassment as Jon had ever seen him in nearly twenty five years.

“I don’t know, bro. It was just, well, we had a great night, and it didn’t feel right to rush into anything. There’s plenty of time, and I think she’s going to come out to LA in a couple of weeks, so we’ll see where it goes.” He looked at Jon seriously. “I hate to say it - after the whole Denise thing, where I got it so wrong - but I think this could be special.”

Jon laughed, but not unkindly, grinning at his brother-who-wasn’t.

“Christ - I think Richie Sambora may be in love already. I can’t believe it!”

Richie wagged a warning finger at him.

“One word for you, Jon. Sara.”

Jon grinned. “Okay - fair point. Well, I wish you luck, bro. After the she-devil, you deserve it.”

Swiftly moving off all the sappy stuff, Jon pointed at the sheaf of paper in front of Richie.

“What you working on?”

“That song we did the other day. I’ve changed the chords, and……”

They quickly got into an involved discussion on the song, Richie playing it through for Jon, showing him the changes he’d made, and Jon made a few amendments to the lyric as they worked. As they worked, Jon suddenly heard a song in his head - he hadn’t even written the words, or the chords, but he could hear it clearly in his mind, totally finished, something which rarely happened. In fact, he thought as he reached for a pen and paper, the last time it had happened was with ‘Always’, which had to be a good omen.

Richie watched, bemused, as Jon scribbled down words and chords without even pausing for thought. He waited until Jon laid the pen down before he spoke, not wanting to break his concentration.

“Had a flash of inspiration, have we?”

Jon laughed self-deprecatingly. “Something like that. Can I borrow your guitar?”

Handing it over, Richie sat back in the chair as Jon played and sang, nodding his head silently as he listened to the song. He also noticed that Jon didn’t even refer to the page he’d written, but sang with his eyes closed, putting his heart into the lyrics. When he finished, Richie applauded softly, and Jon opened his eyes again, pulling himself back out of the song.

“I don’t know where the fuck that came from, Jon, but that’s a hit if I ever heard one. Where did you drag that from?”

Jon gave back the guitar with a shrug. “I’ve no idea. I just heard it in my head, just like that. That hasn’t happened in years.”

“Being in love must be good for you, Jon - remind me to thank Sara. Oh, hey - can you give me her cell number?”

“Why?” Even as he asked, Jon was pulling out his phone to get the number for Richie.

“I promised to tell her about Linda. May as well call her, let her know.”

As Jon read out the number, Richie wrote it on one of the pages in front of him, then Jon looked at his watch.

“Hey - I gotta go. I promised Sara I’d make dinner for her.”

“You? Cook? I’d better warn her to bring take-out.” Richie joked as Jon stood up.

“Prick. I’ll see you later, Rich. Probably tomorrow.”

“Yeah, fine. I’ll just sit around this hotel room, alone. Don’t worry about me.”

“I don’t.” Jon told him as he left the suite, heading for the Chevelle.


In the studio, Sara was sitting with Paul, going over the information for her upcoming UK trip. They’d eaten half the chocolate torte, and Sara was sipping coffee when her cellphone rang. The number on the display was unfamiliar, but she picked up the call anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hey beautiful.”

Definitely not Jon’s voice, so it must be…

“Richie?”

“Yeah. How you doin’, Sara?”

“I’m good. Actually, I’m great. How are you? Ooh - how was your date?”

Paul was looking at her in some surprise. The only Richie he could imagine it being was Sambora, but surely Sara couldn’t be talking that comfortably to him? Sounded as though she was talking to a close friend, but at that moment Sara caught his quizzical look.

“Sorry, Richie, hang on a sec? Paul - sorry - you may as well go on home - I’ll be leaving soon anyway. We can go through the rest of that tomorrow.”

“Sure, boss. See you in the morning.” Paul was still curious, but the offer of an early finish was too tempting to pass up, and he quickly cleared away their plates and headed out the door, hearing Sara talking on her phone as he left.

“Richie - sorry - I was just letting my assistant go early. So, what happened? Was Linda as nice as you hoped?”

“We had a great time, thanks. I think Jon was a little disappointed when I said she didn’t stay the night, but it didn’t feel right, not yet. Besides, she had to work today, so she left just after midnight.”

“Yet?” Sara picked up on the word instantly. “So you’re going to see her again, then?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely. I’m trying to get her to come out to LA in a couple of weeks.”

“What, get her on your home ground so she can’t escape so easily? That the idea?”

Richie’s laugh purred through the phone. “You got it, girl. That’s the plan.”

“Well, I’m sure it’ll work - she won’t be able to resist you.”

“From your lips to God’s ear, Sara. Anyway, speaking of being irresistible, I hear you’ve actually got Mr Bon Jovi cooking dinner for you. What have you done to the man?” Before she could answer, though, Richie chuckled again. “Actually, do I want to know what you’ve done to him?”

“RICHIE!” Sara shrieked, but she was laughing. “I don’t know what came over him.” A silent smile spread across her face as she thought ‘but I know he came over me the other day!’, and she had to control her voice as she replied, feeling the heat in her loins as she remembered that episode.

“He just said he’d go do some things then go back to my house and that he’d make dinner. Isn’t he normally this domesticated, then?”

“Hell, no. He just ran on out of here when he realised the time. At least he waited until we’d finished working, so I guess that’s something.”

“What were you working on?”

“Some new songs for the next album. I think Jon came up with a winner, too. Right off the top of his head - wrote it straight down, chords and all. The last time I saw him do that was with ‘Always’. I think you’ve inspired him, Sara.”

“I doubt that. Well, if he’s gone off to cook, I guess I’d better get going. Don’t want to get in trouble if his masterpiece gets ruined because I’m late!”

“Personally, I’d suggest you get some take-out on your way, Sara. Might be safer!”

“Oh, that’s cruel, Richie! I’ll call you, let you know what he made…..if I don’t have food poisoning! Bye.”

“Okay, bye, Sara.”

Hanging up the call, Sara took her mug through to the kitchen, then closed up the box of torte and took it with her when she left. Well, it wouldn’t keep so well until tomorrow, so they may as well eat it for dessert. When she got into the car, she took her cellphone out of her bag.


On his way back from the hotel, Jon had stopped in at a little delicatessen, buying some bits and pieces for dinner, then he headed back to Sara’s house. He had just walked into the house carrying the bag of groceries when his cellphone rang, and it was Sara.

“Hey baby. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to let you know I’m on my way home - and I’m really hungry - what are you going to make me?”

Jon grinned as he answered. “Well, I’m going to make you hot and wet and….”

“I meant for dinner!” Sara could feel the burn of her cheeks - and lower - as he spoke.

“Oh, that. Wait and see.”

“It’s just that Richie told me to get take-out…..”

“Don’t listen to him! Just get your ass home - dinner will be ready in,” he looked at his watch, “one hour. Give or take.”

“Okay. D’you need me to bring anything?”

“Just bring your sweet self, baby. Everything’s under control here.”

They said goodbye and hung up, Sara starting the car and beginning the drive home while Jon unpacked his shopping, laying everything out on the counter. He searched through the cupboards, finding the pans and utensils he needed, then made a start on the cooking. Sara had mentioned before that she wasn’t keen on heavy cream pasta sauces, so he was going to make a very light cream sauce, and just hoped she would like it. Before he got started, he went through to the living room and turned on the stereo, leaving the Dylan CD playing while he worked.

Dinner was virtually ready when he heard footsteps behind him, the noise of the front door having been covered by the music.

“Something smells good.” Sara said softly, and he turned to face her.

“Hey, baby.” He stepped forward and kissed her. “Be another five minutes or so. D’you want a drink?”

“Coke would be nice. I’ll just run and get cleaned up - I’ve got time, right?”

“So long as you’re quick.”

She went along to the bedroom, thinking how lovely it was not to come home to an empty house. Finding her comfy old shorts and a clean t shirt, Sara went along to the bathroom and cleaned up, then threw her work clothes in the laundry hamper and went back to the kitchen. Jon was stirring something gently in a pan, and he had laid a glass of coke on the table for her. He lifted the pan as he heard her.

“Perfect timing. Take a seat.”

Sara smiled as she sat down, watching Jon carefully serve some kind of pasta onto two plates. She looked around the kitchen, taking in the used bowls and dishes spread around the surfaces, and she shook her head at the mess.

Jon laid a plate in front of her, then put the other in his place, watching Sara closely as she picked up a fork. He’d already sampled it, so he knew that he liked it, but he waited for Sara’s reaction as she took a forkful of the meal. Sara chewed slowly, enjoying the flavours of the penne, black pepper and smoked salmon, all enrobed in a light, fresh creamy sauce. Jon knew she liked it as she closed her eyes with a smile.

“Oh, my………that’s probably the best pasta I’ve had in years, Jon.” She opened her eyes again. “You really can cook, can’t you!”

“I really can cook this one thing!” He admitted with a smile, starting on his own plateful.

“I could live on this.” Sara told him. “How did you know I love smoked salmon?”

“I didn’t - I just kinda hoped you would.”

They concentrated on the food, until their plates were empty, then Sara remembered her earlier visitor.

“Oh, Kay came by the studio today.”

“Did she now? What did she want?”

“To apologise. She was really sincerely sorry for what she’d said, and we talked it out. I think she’s happy for me, now. She even brought me a chocolate torte.”

“I told you - if she valued your friendship, she’d get back in touch.” Jon reached across to lay his hand over Sara’s. “I’m glad, baby. It’s hard when you’re not getting along with a friend. I know - for a while there, Richie and I were on very shaky ground, so I can sympathise.”

“What? Because of Denise Richards?”

“Yeah - he just wouldn’t listen to anybody. He’s so damned stubborn……..hey - stop laughing - I’m not stubborn!”

“No, of course you’re not, sweetie!”

Sara tried to stop laughing, but she couldn’t, and Jon stopped her when he leaned across the table and kissed her. When he drew back again, her laughter was gone, but she was breathless, eyes sparkling as she looked at him.

“Well, anyway, I think Kay and I are okay again. We talked for ages, and I think I’ve convinced her that you’re not a bad guy after all.”

“Good. It’s good that you’ve sorted things out, baby. I just hope she doesn’t hurt you again - she’ll have to answer to me if she does!”

“Oh, shush. I brought the chocolate torte home, for dessert, if you want some.”

“I definitely want some.” Jon leered at her. “But I’m not talking about chocolate torte.”