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“Christ, I knew Cliff was green, but your contract really sucked. You should have been better—taken care of. There’s no reason you should be scraping by when you went double platinum. None.”
I shrug. “It doesn’t matter much now, does it? They essentially dropped me because of my extensive doctor visits and such anyway. Did Pierce tell you I cut an album during COVID, which were my songs, I wrote them, and then they got to keep them? I should have been home taking it easy.”
“Sadly, Starling took advantage of a lot of artists. I’m sorry you went through that. I can promise you that with Vagrant Soul Records, you come first.”
“Thanks, but let’s talk about this later. Our ice cream is melting.” I look at my bowl and try to figure out where to start. It’s in this waffle-like bowl, making it edible. I break a piece of the hard waffle off and use it as a spoon. My first bite has chocolate and banana with pineapple and some kind of nut.
I moan around the bite in my mouth. “Oh—Kris, this is so fucking good.”
17
Nicolette
Singing Danielle Bradbery’s Friend Zone let me slow down. It’s a good thing. I may be trying to get sick. I’ll bust ass this weekend for Kris but come Monday, I’m going to be down. I spot Kris with a smirk. I finish out my night with Friends in Low Places. Before I start singing, I send Kris a beer. I watch as he gets it. I sit on a stool before the music starts. Kris looks up at me, lifting his beer and nodding his head as I begin. Pretty sure he just called me a smartass.
As I come off the stage, I spy Kris waiting on me. I’ve got sweat pouring off of me. My body is a buzz.
“Here ya go, Elvis.” Kris hands me a towel.
I wipe myself down and give my dress a sniff. “Gonna need to start bringing extra body spray.” I laugh.
“Ugh, yeah, please don’t. Just bring a change of clothes or two. I keep fresh scent baby wipes in the car.”
“I’ll remember that for tomorrow. How’s your beer?”
“Like Ambrosia. I wish I could say I was a stronger man, but I was really starting to lose my shit. Thank you.”
“No, thanks needed. Giving up something is never easy. You can’t do it in one day, and you can’t do it alone.” I pat his chest on my way to the bar, asking for a tea with ginger, lemon, and honey.
He doesn’t say much more until we leave and are back in the car. “So two joints, the first was a bust, but they really liked your crowd—pleasers, though I don’t think any of it really resonates. Let’s hope tomorrow is better.”
“Oh-kay. Are we not going to the next spot? Did I do something else you didn’t like?” I ask, confused.
“No, not at all. I just think that I want a better dessert than Lux’s was going to provide. I want to go to Judi’s Jubilee and get a banana split waffle cone. Have you ever had one?”
“Is this you trying to get rid of the gap you keep bitchin’ about again?”
“Not exactly. This is about experiencing a real unadulterated and uninterrupted full—blown foodgasm.”
Foodgasm? “So you want to give me sex in my mouth?”
Kris side-eyes me. “Good a place to start as any.”
Really glad I’m not driving. I would have just killed us both. This man screams sex, and right now, I’d really like to taste him. I think. That’s what Teeah always says. I’m going to have to call her. I’m so full of questions it isn’t funny.
“Is it hot in here?” I ask, rolling down my window.
“That would just be you, all flustered, by me.” The grin on his face is so wide I think it may just crack.
Judi’s Jubilee has a nineteen—fifties vibe right down to the women in little dresses on skates, and we get served in the car. Kris breaks my train of thought when he asks me what I’m thinking.
“Honestly, I love the atmosphere. I could see myself shooting a video right here. Like one of the workers. It would get the high schoolers and college crowd fan base.”
His brows lift then knit as he nods. It’s probably doable, something like Brass in Pocket by The Pretenders.”
I look at him, confused. “Who?”
He smacks himself in the head. “Seriously? Chrissie Hynde? Workin' it in a little diner? Batting her ridiculous lashes? Wow, my age is showing now. Get me my cane!”
