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FREE FALL
Paula Bowman
Copyright 2014 Paula Bowman
All rights reserved
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Cover by Brandi Doane McCann
ONE
NINA sat on a stool behind the bar and counted out the money for her till. Outside the door of the club it rained hard on the Seattle sidewalk and she could see pedestrians as they fought with their colorful umbrellas on the windswept street.
She looked around at the club she co-owned with her brother and stepfather and gave a sigh of satisfaction. The remodel still looked good in the long rectangular room. The bar was just to the right of the entrance with a kitchen behind it. In front of her was an open area filled with tables and beyond that was a dance floor and a raised stage. A long, red, leather-padded bench seat lined the wall on the left with more tables and chairs set up along the length of it. The décor was in muted tones of red, brown and gray.
Patrick, a big red headed man, was the bouncer at the door. Gail, in her uniform of black shorts and a red top, waited on customers at the tables. Another waitress, Cindi, would show up at nine when the band started. Jake was in the back at the grill. It was just another Friday night when the Live Wire would be hopping. She had no idea that it would be a night that changed the rest of her life.
Just then, her best friend Trish entered the bar wearing a tight, black corset with a scooped neckline that plunged dangerously low. Beneath the display of cleavage she wore an equally tight black leather mini skirt that rode low on her hips with four inches of flat belly and a tiny gold navel ring exposed. Completing the ensemble was a pair of thigh high, shiny black vinyl boots with four-inch spike heels.
Nina looked pointedly at her friends pushed up breasts. "Ow!" That's gotta hurt."
Trish laughed and the rhinestone clip that held up a long pony tail of braids sparkled. "Beauty is pain, girl!"
"Where’s the whip?" Nina said. She glanced down at her own casual jeans and T-shirt. "We’re certainly going to be a mismatched pair up there on the stage tonight."
Trish walked behind her. "The best of both worlds, babe."
Trish had applied for a bartender job three years ago before their grand opening and her brother Luke had hired her on the spot. They found out she could sing as well as Nina so they integrated her into the music show. The pair of them were very popular with the regulars.
Nina heard the door and looked up. It was her stepfather George, his round face smiling as usual.
"Georgie!" Trish called out. George flashed a peace sign and went right to work helping Patrick at the door. People were already piling in to find choice seats before the band started.
Here we go, Nina thought, and turned to the nearest customer at the bar. “What can I get for you?”
Joseph paced restlessly in his suite at the Seattle Marriott. He picked up the Stranger, a rag he had found in the hotel lobby and flipped through pages. There was an ad for a place called Live Wire. He grabbed his cell phone and rang the studio's car service. He asked for Trevor, the young man who’d picked him up at the airport. They made arrangements to meet in front of the hotel at nine.
He had arrived in Seattle early that morning and had gone straight to the set. After a short rehearsal, he was ready to shoot one of the outdoor scenes he had in the film with Anne Greenfield. But, it started to rain heavily and a strong wind blew up from Puget Sound, soaking the actors and the crew and wrecking the set. The entire location had packed up and shut down for the day.
What a bitch, he thought as he dressed in jeans and a white button up shirt. It could take days for the weather to change. Personally the rain didn’t bother him, he wanted to shoot the scenes as quickly as possible and go home to Los Angeles. He'd been invited to dinner with the producer and Anne Greenfield but had opted out. So what if she was one of the greatest living actresses, she was arrogant and difficult to work with. He wanted to spend as little time as possible with her.
He grabbed his navy blue sport jacket and took the elevator down to the lobby. He went out the front entrance and spotted a black SUV parked a little ways off to the left. He sprinted down the sidewalk and hopped into the front seat beside Trevor, a local man who worked for a Seattle transportation and security service.
"I want to go to this place," he said, showing him the address.
"Great spot, but we’d better hurry if you want to find a seat. It’s packed on Friday night." Trevor, in brown slacks and a black polo shirt, pulled out smoothly into traffic. "That’s in Pioneer Square. You could pub crawl down there all night."
"So what kind of music does it have?" Joseph asked.
"All kinds. Little of this, little of that."
"If you don’t have anything else to do why don’t you come in with me for a while?"
"Sure, man. I’ll hang around as long as you need me."
Inside the entrance to Live Wire, a bouncer asked for Joseph's ID. He took out his wallet and showed his California driver’s license. Looking speculatively from the license to Joseph and then back to the license again, the bouncer pointed to a table in the far right corner. "That one’s reserved," he said, his face inscrutable as he handed Joseph his license. "If you’d like to sit there, no one will bother you."
Joseph looked at the table along the end of the wall near the stage. "Thank you." he said graciously, taking his license back as the man waved them in. What a hoot! He thought. One of the fifty people outside of Hollywood that might recognize him from his acting was working right here at this club. Thankful the guy didn’t make a big deal about it, he made his way through the crowd and surveyed his surroundings. Nice. The place looked newly remolded, well set up, and he had a primo seat.
A good looking waitress with blonde hair piled on top of her head arrived at their table and took their orders for drinks. Both Joseph and Trevor watched her trot off, admiring her black shorts.
"She's a peach." Trevor’s young, wholesome face was alight with admiration. Joseph agreed. The night had gotten off to a good start.
"Whatcha need?" Nina signaled to Gail who’d arrived at the waitress station.
"One coke and one VO rocks for the VIP table." Gail waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
"Who is it?" Trish sidled up close to Nina to lean over the bar and get a better look.
"Get your boobs out of my face," scolded Nina. She squirted coke from the spigot in her hand and tried to sneak a look. "Two dudes," she said. "I have no idea who they are." Just then, one of the guys stood up and took off his jacket. A tall man in his early forties with a lean face, dark eyes and a mop of wavy black hair, he turned his head and their eyes met briefly across the room before he sat back down.
Whoa! Nina thought. Although he wasn’t conventionally handsome, with rugged features and a nose a little too big for his face, she felt a jolt of instant attraction. Forget it, she admonished herself. He was probably out of her league.
"Time to go!" Trish said, as she smeared lip gloss on
her already juicy red lips.
Nina and Trish headed to the front of the club to sing the opening song of the first set. The crowd quieted as they took their places side by side in front of two microphones at center stage.
"And now," Nina spoke into the mic, "A little retro from T’Pau."
At a signal from Nina the band started and she began the half rap, half singsong lyrics to ‘Heart and Soul’. Trish joined in, harmonizing in a strong contralto. They’d spent many hours practicing and perfecting the tune and it showed.
Joseph’s table was so close to the stage he could see the singer's lips moving. As their voices soared into the chorus, he felt the rush of delight he always felt when he experienced music that he liked. The second verse started and they switched vocals. He listened to the woman in jeans as she took over the harmony with yearning in her clear voice.
At the end of the song, the lead guitarist took over the mic. The band immediately broke into ‘Pride and Joy’". Amidst the blast of the guitar, the two women stepped down off the stage.
Joseph watched the little brunette as she walked by.
"She’s nice." Trevor said, following his look. "I think her family owns the place."
"She’s incredibly cute."Joseph's eyes roved over her figure and came to rest on her breasts as they bounced past his table. He looked up just in time to see that she’d caught his eyes on her. Busted! He smiled and gave her a little wave. She smiled back at him over her shoulder.
"Maybe I should talk to her?"
"Go to the bar and order a drink," Trevor suggested.
Joseph guzzled the full drink in front of him and, empty glass in hand, walked up to the bar. He squeezed in between two people already waiting and tried to gain the singer's attention.
She spotted him and took his glass. "Do you think we’ll make it out of here alive?" She asked gesturing at the throng of people.
He felt the warmth of her smile and tried to think of something smart to say, but all the cheesy lines that ran through his head fell flat. "I hope so.” He paid for the drink and reluctantly left her to the other customers.
Back at the table, he reported to Trevor that it had not gone well.
"It’s really busy right now." Trevor said, his blue eyes sympathetic. "Hey, maybe you shouldn’t mess with the locals anyway. I mean, didn’t I hear that you have a girlfriend?"
“I guess I do." A vague picture of Karen Clark sprang to Joseph’s mind. He hadn’t seen her in two months. She was on location in Spain shooting her first starring role. Their communication was mostly limited to one-sided telephone conversations. She regaled him with boring shit about her lines in each scene, how the director knew just how to handle her, etc. It was all she’d talked about before the picture began and, now that she was in the thick of it, Joseph found it hard to be supportive. He’d run the gamut of every trite expression over and over and now just sat in dull silence, waiting for her to run out of steam so he could hang up. Ah well, she’d be back in Los Angeles in a couple of weeks and the filming would be over.
He brought his attention back to Trevor and motioned in the direction of the bar. "Don’t worry. I was just a little curious. She’ll be safe from me." He continued to watch her though, as she smiled and laughed with the customers.
Whenever Nina got a spare moment in between serving customers she glanced at the VIP table to find the tall, dark haired man looking straight at her. The directness of his stare made her a little self-conscious. Again and again her eyes returned to his. Finally she raised her eyebrows, spread her hands out in front of her and mouthed, ‘what’? He broke into a smile, revealing strong white teeth and, in spite of herself, she returned it. Oh boy, she thought. The big bad wolf. I’m in trouble now.
She didn’t like the game of the bar scene. She loved the atmosphere, the loud music, the energy and diversity of the crowd and she especially loved getting up on stage and performing. She, her brother Luke and her stepfather George had bought the old cafe and remodeled it with live music in mind. Luke, a self-taught musician since he was 14 years old, had thrown himself wholeheartedly into the direction of that music. The place wasn’t too big to get lost in. It had occupancy of three hundred and was intimate enough for people to get to know each other. The musicians consisted of a mish mash of different players, some showing up every night to perform, some coming in every once in a while. Local talent frequented Live Wire as it had a no-holes-barred, anything goes music venue. Open mic was the last set of the evening and any unknown could get up and sing or play an instrument if time allowed. All of these components had increased the popularity of the club, turning it into a profitable hot spot.
Guys had propositioned her countless times. They wanted to meet her after hours, or they asked for her number. With her soft, wavy brown hair, oval face, and large green eyes framed with thick black lashes, she looked younger than her thirty-seven years. Although no raving beauty, she'd been told that she had a lively, energetic charm.
She flirted with men to a certain point, exchanged banter and politely refused their advances. It wasn’t a good idea to get mixed up with someone who knew her business and could show up any time at the bar and find her. Experience had taught her that most men who hung out at bars were fueled by a testosterone driven agenda. They were looking to get laid, and no matter how sincere and interested in her they pretended to be, it invariably ended up with them trying to get her to a place where they could lay her down. If they weren’t looking for sex they wanted to hook up with her because she had money, or because she had connections in the Seattle music scene. Because of this distrust of the male species and because of a bad break up from the last man in her life, she hadn’t had a relationship in three years.
She’d gone out a few times using an online dating site. But she discovered it was almost exactly like the bar scene. Being only human, she contemplated having sex with one of them, a very attractive and well groomed man near her age, who obviously knew that he was a great catch by his words and actions, but Nina figured it wasn’t worth it. She couldn’t become that intimate with someone without her feelings getting muddled. When the guy appealed to her for a ‘friend with benefits’ arrangement, Nina cringed. She hated that phrase, and that put the clincher on any deal they might have made. She turned him down flat.
What is it with men? Nina thought. Obviously there were women out there that were happy to provide free whore service just for the sake of having sex. She could have sex all by herself and come out of it much more satisfied than if she allowed some guy, who really didn’t care about her, to paw her and handle her body like a blow up doll.
The one time Nina attempted this type of thing, the guy she was seeing, who insisted it was a mutually beneficial relationship, had called all the shots and it had gotten to the point where he wanted Nina to meet him in the parking lot of a McDonalds and have sex in his car. He was too busy to bother with taking her out and spending an evening, or even a few hours with her.
"You’re a cynic," George had said to her only a few days before.
"Disillusioned too," Nina agreed affably. She knew that he worried about her and that Luke, who had a great wife and two sons, also wondered how she had managed to make it to the ripe old age of thirty-seven without getting married.
So, even though she was acutely aware of this very interesting looking man, she told herself to not pursue it. She was afraid of the powerful attraction between them. She wished he would leave so she wouldn’t be aware of the provocative feelings that surged through her.
Then she looked up again and saw that he was leaving. There he goes. He’s skinny, she noticed as he strode through the back exit door. I like skinny. The next moment he was gone. To cover up the niggling feeling of disappointment she busied herself with washing glasses.
Saturday, Joseph spent an exhausting six hours rehearsing with Anne Greenfield and two other actors in her suite on the concierge level of the Marriott. He returned to his room, opened up the search engine on his lapt
op and typed in 'Live Wire Club Seattle'. He found a web page that showed the storefront of the place and a few snapshots of the band members. In the ‘About’ section he found owners: Lucas Foster, Nina Foster, George Vaughn.
Nina. Who was Lucas? It occurred to him that she might be married. "No. Not you," he said to the face in the photo as she peeked over the shoulder of the man who was playing guitar last night. That had to be her brother. They had similar features, and Trevor said that her family owned the bar. He had already decided he wanted to see her again, but his mind kept running various arguments about why this was not a good idea. He didn’t make a habit of picking up available women in the cities that he traveled to for work. The affairs were short lived, risky, and ungratifying. He never had any intention of sticking around, so why bother? He was reasonably faithful to Karen, had had a few encounters here and there, and had heard rumors that she had done the same. So far they had gotten along fine. She was his California blonde. Slim, beautiful, plastic perfection—agreeable to anything. The encounters he had had were unexpected and unplanned, but this… this would be deliberate. Shouldn’t really mess with Ms. Nina, his conscious berated him. Nevertheless, after cleaning up in his hotel room he called a cab. He wouldn’t use Trevor tonight. He wanted this play to be obvious to no one but himself.
On Saturday night Nina wore a brown velvet mini skirt with a matching short-waisted jacket. Underneath the jacket was a black satin camisole embroidered with dazzling black beads. On her feet were knee high suede black boots. Her hair was twisted up so that it bobbed out in spikes. Trish was wearing exactly the same outfit. Yes, they would make quite a scene, Nina mused.
"There’s that guy again," Trish said.
Nina looked towards the entrance and saw who it was. Oh, my God! He’s back! Nina flushed with pleasure at the sight of him strolling confidently inside.