She was shaking her head before he even finished this statement. "That will never work," she said. "In the first place, do you really think you could do that?"
"Yes," he said. "I could."
"Jake, I wouldn't want you to do that," she said. "You would be miserable out there if your friends were always getting in on and you were being left out."
"I did it before," he said. "When Michelle and I were together I never slept with a single groupie."
"And look how that ended," she said. "She still broke up with you. But that's a moot point anyway, because look what happened with Angie. You were committed to her when you left on your first tour, weren't you? And didn't you tell me that you fucked a groupie after your very first show?"
The mention of Angie still had the power to send waves of guilt trudging through him. "Yes," he said softly.
"In fact, you never even talked to her again, did you? Never said goodbye? Never gave her an explanation?"
"No," he said. "I didn't."
"Don't you see the difference, Jake? With Michelle, you were performing in your own town all the time. She was always there for you. With Angie, she wasn't. You were away from her for months and you knew that. You would do the same thing if we stayed together. Be honest with yourself."
He did as requested and knew that in all likelihood, she was right. He might hold off for a month or maybe six weeks, but in the end, he would probably give at some point. "Okay," he said. "I get your point."
"And even if you were faithful to me — something I don't want you to have to be — the media would still see Matt and Darren and Bill and Coop doing all those things with their groupies and they would assume that you were doing the same anyway. It wouldn't matter if you were faithful because they wouldn't want to report that. They love scandal and they would use every piece of innuendo they could come up with. Jake, honey, I love you dearly — really I do — but this is the only way."
He sighed, his pleasant evening suddenly turned morose. "Okay," he said, resigned. "If you want to break up, I'm certainly not going to stop you."
"But we're not really breaking up," she said. "That's the best part of this. We're just pretending to break up. We'll still see each other when we can. It'll just have to be secret. Really secret this time."
Jake nodded. "Sure," he said. "Really secret this time."
"You understand, don't you?" she asked, her eyes giving the innocent puppy gaze she was so famous for.
"I understand that the image wins again," he told her. "Shall we get out of here now?"
They got out of there. Jake tried to remain aloof with her as they rode in the limo back to his place. His intention was to dismiss her. If she wanted to break up, then they would break up. His intentions lasted only as long as it took her to open the fly of his dress pants and start sucking him while they drove through the streets of Hollywood.
Chapter 12B: On The Road Again
The break-up went down as discussed and scheduled. Georgette and Shaver gave their press conferences and read brief statements written by Jake and Mindy in which both proclaimed that the reason for their break-up was personal and that they were still "dear friends" and would always remain so. The media went into a frenzy over the announcement, with headline stories and analysis taking up more room in some local publications than the stories about the pull-out of the US Marines from Beirut in the wake of the suicide bombing or the alleged use of chemical weapons by Iraq in their war with Iran.
On March 10, two days before Intemperance's departure for Miami, Mindy showed up at Jake's condo unexpectedly. She found him dressed in an old pair of jeans and a sweat-stained t-shirt, his hair in disarray. He was in a foul mood, the living room full of cardboard boxes in which he was packing all of his belongings.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "I thought we weren't supposed to be seen together."
"It's okay," she told him, looking around the condo in amazement. "The official story is that I'm picking up a few belongings I left at your place. What the hell is going on here?"
"I'm being evicted," he told her. "Since we're going to be gone for almost six months National decided it was cheaper to stop paying for this place and keep my stuff in storage until I get back."
"They're kicking you out of your home?" she asked, appalled.
"It's not my home," he said bitterly. "It's the record company's. All five of us are getting the boot. They say they'll find different lodging for us when we get back."
"That's horrible," she said, genuinely appalled.
"That's life in the music biz," he responded. "So what did you really come here for?"
"I just wanted to see you one more time before you went," she said. "I have to fly to New York tomorrow for an audition." She smiled. "It's for a new movie they're going to start filming in a few months. A real movie. It's called Back to the Future."
"Yeah?" he asked. "What's it about?"
"It's going to have Michael J. Fox as the lead," she said. "He'll play a high school student who goes back in time and accidentally interferes with his parent's romance because his mom falls in love with him."
"His mom falls in love with him?" Jake asked.
"Yes... isn't it deliciously kinky? I'm trying out for the part of the teenage mom in 1955. She's going to be a little slut from what I understand."
"I guess she'd have to be if she wants to bang her own son."
"She doesn't know he's her son," she said, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, it's the first role with the least bit of sexuality in it that I've ever been offered. I just wanted to properly thank you for helping me get a chance at it before you went. We probably won't be able to see each other again for awhile."
"You're welcome," he said. "Just call me the image enhancer."
"Oh come on, Jake," she said. "Don't be like that. You know this is the right thing to do, don't you?"
"Yeah," he said, tired of the whole subject. "The right thing."
"I've got a few minutes before people start to wonder why I'm up here so long," she said. "Shall we visit your bedroom one last time."
He made the obligatory protests but within five minutes they were retiring to his bedroom. By the time they were done he needed a shower in order to go back to the dirty, grimy work of packing up his life.
The convoy formed up on the morning of March 12 for the long trip to Miami. It was larger and more impressive than the convoy that had formed the Earthstone/Intemperance tour of 1983, or the Intemperance/Voyeur tour of later that same year. There were eleven tour buses forming the vanguard of the convoy. One for Intemperance, one for Birmingham — the rookie Southern rock band who would be opening for them — and nine for the roadies, technical specialists, and tour management who would be accompanying them. There were ten tractor-trailer rigs following behind the tour buses, four more than the last tour, including one with high-explosive placards pasted all over it. This particular tractor-trailer, which contained all of the pyrotechnic equipment and charges, was a particular pain in the ass to the planners of the tour because whenever the route took them over a large bridge or through a tunnel, it would have to divert around and rejoin later.
Jake, Matt, and the rest of the band were assigned to the exact same tour bus that had been their home during the last tour. The same two drivers were assigned to pilot it. And, of course, Greg Gahn, the hypocritical, Book of Mormon thumping, coke sniffing, drug pushing tour manager was assigned to accompany, intoxify, pacify, and generally babysit them.
"It won't be like last time," he told them as the convoy left the assembly area and started rolling towards the freeway. "We have nothing but luxury suites booked for you guys. You're big time now."