I tried to hand it back to him, but he insisted I keep it.
“If it works, then you can lay a little money in my hand and I’ll get you a bottleful.”
I could see there was no use in arguing with him as I slipped the pill into my pocket, intent on throwing it away when I got out of the building.
Rehearsal went well and it seemed every time I sang the song, I improved my performance. Melissa, Melanie, and Dobrey invited me to join them for dinner in the hotel restaurant after we finished practice; I was grateful to accept. Anything was better than simply sitting around in my hotel room and waiting for bedtime, so I could sit around wide awake until sunrise.
We were a definite odd blend, the play bunnies, the philanthropist, and the heiress, but we had no trouble relating to one another. The twins wanted to know immediately where my handsome boyfriend was hiding.
“He’s actually just a really good friend-my best friend,” I said, sipping my ice water.
“You’re kidding,” Melanie exclaimed wide-eyed, “You mean he’s not your boyfriend-he’s available?”
I laughed, “No, he has a girlfriend, it’s just not me.” I watched her deflate.
“That sucks,” Melissa added. “I mean, it’s cool that you two are friends, but he is so hot I don’t know how you could take just being friends.”
“He is nice looking,” Dobrey spoke up with a light smile, “but, personally, I like his attitude better than any of the guys here, other than perhaps Sadarius.”
The twins looked at each other and giggled, “Sadarius is a gentleman.” Melissa winked at her sister, “He’s kind of shy, too-until you get him alone.”
“Maybe they should make Ryan a contestant for next season,” Dobrey suggested, trying to avoid the lip-licking look the twins were giving each other over Sadarius.
Now it was my turn to laugh, “They could put him on one of the dance shows, but that boy cannot sing.”
We were just about to place our order when Sadarius and Rashad entered the room, waiting to be seated. The twins wasted no time in excusing themselves from our company and scampering over to invite themselves to dine with the men.
“Those girls certainly take the title of play bunny seriously,” I joked with Dobrey.
“Those two? You and Ryan haven’t stayed around here to watch them go after the guys. Sadarius seems to be their particular target, but Rashad, I guess, makes it a little easier for them to share.”
We spent the rest of the evening getting to know one another and I found Dobrey to be fascinating. She had been born in Scotland, the daughter of very wealthy land owners. She came to America when she was still a baby. She said her family owns an actual castle in Scotland and she said she often goes back when she wants to recharge her life.
“That sounds wonderful. The Good Lord knows my life could use some serious recharging about now.”
“I’m going there for at least a week while we’re on break. I’d love some company, if you’d like to join me,” she offered.
I gave a quick thought about my wonderful sleeping buddy who now had regular plans to visit me while Candace was at school. “No, I’m afraid I have trouble sleeping when I’m away from home.”
“That’s what it is,” Dobrey exclaimed as she gave me a harder look. “I wondered what was different about you today, and it’s got to be that you’re tired.”
“Is it really that obvious?”
“I’m afraid so. I think everyone is assuming something happened between you and Ryan, but I had a feeling it was something else.”
“I’m exhausted and going somewhere to recharge sounds wonderful, but I bet when this show airs in a couple weeks, none of us are going to get any rest. We’ll have more attention than anyone would want-except for perhaps Melissa and Melanie. I can’t imagine taking off my clothes and letting someone take pictures of me for a million guys to view.”
Dobrey giggled, “Me neither. But, I have several very private places to retreat if the press gets too bad. If you ever need a place to go, I have a fabulous cottage in northern California set on a massive hill overlooking the Pacific. No neighbors, no television, no telephone, just miles and miles of view, and peace and quiet.”
I gave a huge sigh, “That sounds like heaven.”
“And,” she added, “you’re guaranteed to get a good night’s sleep. I don’t know what it is about the air coming off the cold ocean water, but you go to bed under a thick down comforter and it’s like tucking a baby in a cradle.”
“I might take you up on that sometime.”
“Anytime,” she said, reaching into her purse. She handed me a business card. “That’s my cell number. You call me whenever you need it and it will be available.”
We finished our meal and talked a little bit about me. She asked if what the press reported about me actually being married and then running away with Ryan was true. I told her things weren’t as they seemed. He was, I assured her, just a friend.
“Is your husband actually mafia?” she asked quietly.
The tabloids left many people thinking the stories had been greatly stretched, but for once much of the outrageous things they printed about me were close to correct.
“He was-I mean he is again, but…” I thought about mentioning the annulment, but I couldn’t. It felt like such a long time since I had been overcome with these deep emotions. I set down my fork and picked up my dinner napkin and dabbed my eyes.
“I’m sorry. That’s really none of my business.”
“No, it’s okay, I just can’t talk about it right now.”
We finished our meal and ended our evening as good friends. She gave me a firm hug and reminded me whenever I wanted a little time away from the world, to give her a call.
I found the little blue capsule in my pocket when I undressed for bed. I set it on the night stand, and stared at it for a few moments. It was stamped by Lilly so I knew it wasn’t some kind of illegal drug cooked up in someone’s back room, but I was still afraid to even consider trying it.
I tossed and turned, and by sunrise I had garnered perhaps an hour’s worth of sleep. I had to get some rest. I had to be in studio by four p.m. and ready to perform in front of an audience by six. I dug through my bag and pulled out the box of over-the-counter sleeping pills, popped two out of the foil and swallowed them down and returned to bed. I managed two more hours of sleep and at least another hour of drowsy stupor. I pulled Ryan’s tee-shirt out of a zipper bag and placed it on a pillow and hugged it tightly. Relaxation hit me as I inhaled his sweet fragrance. I wasn’t sure what exactly he used, I knew it was one of those body sprays, but whatever it was it began to lull me until I drifted off for another hour and then someone coming loudly down the hotel hallway woke me. That was it. I was going to have to be happy with what I’d gotten and hope my performance didn’t suffer too badly.
Everything went well during the taping. I had, gratefully, drawn the first slot of the night to perform. That was fine with me because the sooner I got off stage the better. The judges were very impressed with my remake of the song, ‘Everything I do,’ and said they were seeing tremendous growth in me already.
“Our next show will be themed for pop music and I hope you continue to pick songs that are challenging because I believe we’ve only scratched the surface of your potential. Good job, tonight. Great way to start the evening,” the most critical judge told me before I exited the stage.
I sat with the other contestants and watched the remaining performances. There were nine of us left and by the end of the night the judges would cut another three women. The three choices didn’t surprise me, but they certainly surprised one of those cut from the show. They cut Carrie, and she was livid. She told the judges they didn’t know what they were talking about. She said she had more potential than any of the other contestants. They disagreed. And, after giving everyone a vocabulary lesson in vulgarity, she stormed off the stage.