Not for the Innocent

After they bussed the plates and gelato was ordered, Lisa finally spoke to me.

"Jimmy, are the stories they've been saying about you true?"

"Which ones?" I shrugged. "There are always new stories coming out about me."

"The one about you throwing away hundreds of millions of dollars on your new recording deal."

I sipped some water and said, "Yes and no. I'm tired of doing other people's songs and I want to do my own. So, instead of taking guaranteed money and higher percentages, I took a sliding scale. The better my songs do, the more money I make."

She asked, "And you're doing less concerts?"

"Yeah, touring sucks. Instead of doing a tour after every record comes out, like I did before, I'll tour after every second one comes out."

Mike said, "Isn't most of your money from touring?"

"Yeah, but without sounding like an ass, I don't really need the money. I need a life; and if the songs do well, I'll have royalties to supplement my earnings. I didn't have that before when others wrote my songs."

He nodded and smiled as if he were happy for me.

I continued, "You know, I've been walking Fifth Avenue and popping in and out of stores for two days and I've only been recognized once. I still don't know how you did that."

Mike smiled, "It was your voice. You forget we had a lengthy conversation in Chicago."

I laughed, "I never did get my popcorn."

"It was divine," Diana sighed, and Julia laughed. Lisa was still pensive.

Lisa asked, "Why are you doing all that now? You're so young--you can step back years down the road and make a fortune now."

"You act as if the money is important to me. Right now, I have more money than could ever be spent by several generations of my family. Does the money matter if I never have any children, or grandchildren to leave it to?"

She shrugged her shoulders and was about to say something when I cut her off.

"Lisa, if money is that important to you, I feel sorry for you. You're sitting here with your family, enjoying a wonderful lunch and a day of shopping, then in a couple of days you'll celebrate Christmas together."

My anger rose, and I stood, "I'd give up every penny I have and will ever make to have one more hour with my mom for a lunch like this."

A flash of anger crossed her eyes, and I said, "Thank you, Mike, and Diana, for inviting me to join your family for lunch. I'll take care of the check. Merry Christmas. And Julia and Lisa, good luck in school. If you ever want tickets to one of my shows, you know how to reach me. Take care."

I walked away, leaving the table speechless. I think if Julia could reach her, she'd have slapped Lisa for busting my chops over my choices and causing me to leave. The truth was, I wasn't comfortable sitting with them anyway and wanted to get out of there.

I handed the server my credit card and while I waited for her to run it, I heard, "I'm sorry, Jimmy. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not that upset, Lisa. I'm not sure what I am, maybe just disappointed."

She came around as I signed the bill, "You're acting like I'm some kind of money-hungry bitch."

"Lisa, I don't know you, so I don't know if you are or not." I handed the signed slip back to the server and continued, "I wanted to get to know you, but that never happened, did it? Look, enjoy your day, and have a Merry Christmas. I'll see you around."

I kissed her cheek and rushed out of the restaurant. It was easy to hide on the busy sidewalks of New York.

*****

I sat on the couch in my suite, looking out the window and watching the snow fall. I set my notebook down after finishing some lyrics about putting the loss of a loved one behind me. I'd been working on it for a few weeks and was proud of how it ended up.

My ringing phone broke my solitude.

I saw it was Lisa and let it go to voicemail. I expected to hear from her after our conversation at lunch the day before, but she didn't reach out to me then.

Another notification chirped from my phone, but it wasn't voicemail, it was a text message.

I'm in the lobby and I'm not leaving until you speak to me.

"How the hell did she know where I was staying?" I groaned.

I picked up the room phone and called the number for the doorman.

"Yes, Mister Mace," he answered.

"There's a red-headed woman named Lisa Davis in the lobby. Can you have her escorted to my suite please?"

A few minutes later, I heard the elevator ding, and I opened the door.

"Hello, Lisa. How did you find me?"

"It's not that hard, really. One, you stayed here when we met. Two, my mother just has to stay here when she's in the city. She and Dad have a suite a couple of floors down. Julia and I have a regular room. Mom overheard the housekeepers talking about you, as well."

"How Sherlock Holmes of you," I sighed with as much sarcasm as I could muster. "What do you want?"

"I expected more security," she said as she walked towards the window to look at my view. "You don't seem to have any?"

"If my chief of security had his way, there'd be five guys surrounding me at all times, but it's not necessary if I'm not expected somewhere. No one knows I'm here, so there's no crowd downstairs, no paparazzi looking for me, it's also not too hard to blend in."

"Except my dad has a knack for bumping into you."

I laughed, "No one was more shocked to be at the same hot dog cart as I was, believe me."

I wondered why she was making small talk instead of getting to the point of her visit. Not that I minded all that much, I still had a faster than normal heartbeat when she was near.

"Jimmy, my mother is obsessed with the idea of you coming to our house for Christmas."

I laughed. I wasn't sure I was safe in the same house with Julia and Diana. They looked at me as if I were the last ribeye on the planet and they hadn't eaten in days. Hell, before I changed my ways, I would have been banging both of them in front of Mike after lunch.

"Thank your mother for the invitation, but I'm sorry, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Lisa, imagine me sitting in your living room with your family, in front of a nice fire, sipping wine and eating spinach dip, when Julia's friends all barged into the house because she told everyone I was there. It would be chaos and ruin your family's Christmas. I just can't do it."

She looked at her boots and asked, "What if I wanted you to come."

"If you'd have asked me that before, I would have flown anywhere in the world to get to you. But, after you blew me off, I knew you'd never be able to fall for a guy like me. I've accepted it, and I understand it now. That's why I've left you alone. It was hard at first, don't get me wrong. I deleted many messages I wanted to DM to you, but I'm over hoping you'll text or call me."

"Why do you keep trying to hurt me? Are you that small, that you can't get over me not wanting to be a one-night stand?"

"Lisa, I think it's time for you to go. I've told you over and over that I didn't want that from you. Again, thank your mother for the invitation."

She looked at me with the most pity I'd ever seen and shook her head, "Goodbye, Jimmy."

She walked to the door, looked at me one last time, expecting me to stop her, then left when I didn't.

I whispered, "Merry Christmas, Lisa."

*****

On the morning of Christmas Eve, I woke to a quiet knock at my door. I groaned and stretched, feeling older than I was, then slid on my slippers.

"Who is it?" I called out before looking through the peep hole.

"Mike Davis."

I looked out and shook my head.

"Come on in, Mike. I have to say, your family is really testing the limits of my hospitality."

"Yeah and I'm sorry about that. But it cost me five-hundred bucks to bribe someone to let me on this floor, so if you'll indulge my bugging you one more time, I'll be on my way."

I started a cup of coffee, opened the curtains, and plopped down onto the couch.

He looked around then said, "You're a pretty clean kid, aren't you? I expected pizza boxes and clothes to be strewn about."

"Sorry to disappoint you. I like to be neat, and I clean up after myself."

He smiled, and said, "Jimmy, I think you misunderstand my daughter. She's just being careful and looking out for herself."

"Mike, she's in the past. I've moved on."

"I know. She missed the boat, and she knows that. I'm talking about the money thing. She's not like that. She was impressed that you threw away the easy money and are trying to do things on your terms. I think she was just trying to figure out why you did it. Honestly? I think she had the idea that you did it for her. To make yourself less of a circus and be more mature."

I groaned.

"Aren't you missing your family Christmas, Mike?"

He shook his head.

"Diana and the girls went home yesterday to get started on the prep. I'm here to make one final plea for you to come and have a nice Christmas. A normal Christmas, with a good meal with good people. There won't be a big deal made of you being there. There won't be a flock of girls assaulting my front door like the beaches of Normandy. It will be nice and quiet."

"I understand your wife and daughters are fans, and they want to have the pop star in their house, but I can't do it. I think maybe I'm getting too close to your family."

He laughed, "Jimmy, you're a good kid--strike that--you're a good man, and I respect you. I wouldn't be here if this were just a dog and pony show for my girls. Well, thanks for indulging me for a few minutes. I knew you wouldn't accept, but you know how it goes. I have to keep the peace in my house, or I'll have three women giving me the silent treatment, and believe me, that's not the fun it sounds like. Merry Christmas, Son."

"Merry Christmas, Mike."

I didn't go.

*****

"Jimmy, the songs are weak. Let me get some hits for you from the usual suspects. They know what they're doing."

It was three months later, and I was in the recording studio getting ready to record my music for the first time. The producer who the record company set up for me didn't like my songs.

"You're the God damned producer, Dave. If you have suggestions for refinements, let me hear 'em, but these are the songs I'm going into the studio with."

"Don't be stupid, Kid. You're throwing your career away."

"At least I'll have gone out on my terms. You either make these songs sound great, or I'll produce the fucker myself."

I was pissed. Create some beats, lay down some instruments, and sing. It should have been easy.

"I'm not putting this garbage on my resume. They'll laugh me out of the industry."

"Okay, hit the bricks then. I'll produce it myself."

"You can't fire me. I have a contract."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll pay the penalty, now kindly fuck off."

I didn't remember where I heard it, but I'd always wanted to say, 'now kindly fuck off.'

I walked into the studio and saw Dan the recording engineer setting up his gear.

"Dan, I'm going to self-produce this thing. I don't want any drum machines or vocal enhancements either. I'm going in a different direction this time."

"Jimmy," he said, worried. "the label is gonna flip."

I laughed, "They already flipped out when I negotiated my contract. I have full creative control and can produce it if I want. The only problem with that is they get the final decision on whether to release it or not, so we're going to have to make it great."

He smiled, and said, "You've got some big balls, Kid. Let's show 'em what you can do."

He was the first one to believe in me, and I never forgot it.

*****

Two months later, I sat in the board room of my record label for the unveiling of my hard work. My liaison to the label, called my A&R man, and my manager were excited about it, so I figured I'd at least get it released. After that, who knew what would happen? The pop scene was fickle.

The first song shot out of the speakers with a roar. It was an up-tempo song with a thumping beat and an anthemic verse, which I envisioned being my first single. The record was also named after that song.

After a few seconds, I saw some heads start to bob along with the music and I knew I had them.

Song after song, my heart, my soul, and my blood, sweat, and tears, spilled out through the speakers and I felt helpless. The executives were smiling, and the one who brought his teenaged daughter clapped his hands when she got up from her chair and started to dance. For the first time that day, I relaxed.

The final song ended, and one of the execs said, "It turned out great, Jimmy. I gotta tell you, I didn't expect it from you, but you proved me wrong. I think there's three strong singles here."

One lady said, "I agree. Tracks one, three, and six are great. I say we lead with track one."

The room agreed, and my heart leapt.

After some back slapping and picture taking, my manager said, "Jimmy, get some rest. We're flying Chicago tomorrow to do a photo shoot."

"Yeah, Kim's all over it. I'll be there."

Kim was always all over it. Now that we had an approved album, we needed the cover and promotional art, as well as release dates.

The promotion was going to be different than my previous releases since I wasn't touring. The label was still not happy about that, but hopefully, it sold well enough without me crossing the globe. I never understood that anyway. Why would my showing up in concert convince someone to buy my music or stream my songs? They'd know the music was out there. It wasn't the seventies for Christ's sake, and other artists didn't tour for every new album.

Our ad campaign would start with teasers a month before the album release, then the single would come out with a ton of hype, then the album. It wasn't complicated.

*****

I woke in Chicago and found out the studio was near where the Davis girls went to college. I hadn't thought about them for a few months and wondered what they were up to, especially Lisa.

For a split second, I thought about texting her, but I quickly put that out of my mind. I didn't need to complicate my life more than it already was.

I did decide to go on vacation, however. I called my old friends from before I was a phenomenon, and we made plans to rent a house in Greece and get away for a week. We were due to leave the day after I finished the photo shoots in Chicago.

"Jimmy," Kim said as she burst into my room. "I just got word that we got the advertising campaign approved and just need the pictures. They liked your idea and if the pictures match the concept, they will go with it."

"Jesus," I said after I sipped the coffee she brought in. "Kim, I've finally got control of my career."

She laughed and said, "Carol's more nervous than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs."

"I know, but she's made a shit-ton of money off of me already. I'm either going to do it my way or end it. It's time to grow up."

"Well, I hope it works out. I haven't made a shit-ton of money yet."

I laughed and said, "Don't worry, Kim. You'll be fine. If it all blows up, I'll take care of you."

She rolled her eyes as if she didn't believe me and gave me a sarcastic, "Thanks."

Later, after a few hours of wardrobe changes and background changes, we broke for lunch.

"Hey, Jimmy, you ever try Italian Ice?" the photographer shouted. "I'm going to get some."

"No, what is it?"

"It's like a snow cone in a cup with pieces of fruit in it. I'll bring you one back."

He walked out the door and I made a plate from the beef sandwiches and sides they catered in.

A few minutes later, I was telling stories about the crazy things that happen on the road when my security at the door called Kim.

"No, absolutely not!" she shouted as she walked away. "Hang on, I'm coming down."

"What the hell was that about?" I asked Carol.

"Probably just some fans at the door. They might have seen you walk in, or they got tipped off somehow."

I nodded and went back to telling everyone about how my guitar player bought one of Jimmy Page's guitars and cracked the body when his strap broke and it hit the ground the day he got it.

Suddenly, my phone rang. I looked at the display and saw Lisa's name.

"Shit," I said. I turned and saw Kim walking back into the room.

"Lisa's downstairs, isn't she?" I asked.

"How'd you know?"

"You weren't letting her in, so she called me."

I showed her my still ringing phone.

"I thought it would be better if you didn't see her. Was I wrong?" she asked.

Was she? I didn't know how to answer that.

"Probably not. Tell Billy to let her in."

Kim shook her head and made the call. While that was happening, the photographer came in and handed me the Italian Ice.

"I got you watermelon. It's my favorite, but they're all good."

"Thanks," I said and tried it. It was as good as he promised.

"She's on her way," Kim said before going back to her lunch.

I briefly wondered if Kim sent her away out of jealousy. I knew Kim had a thing for me, but she never made it overt. I tried not to lead her on or walk around my room naked in case she walked in.

I looked up and Lisa walked around the corner.

"Hello, Lisa. Long time no see," I said before scooping more of my frozen treat into my mouth.

"You didn't answer when I called."

"Maybe, I was busy?" I shrugged.

"Yeah, I see how busy you are." Kim snickered at that, and Lisa continued, "Anyway, I heard you were here, and I wanted to apologize. I wanted to call you so many times, but I didn't think I should do it over the phone. Can we talk," she looked around the room, "in private?"

The photographer said, "Use the office back there."

She started walking before I agreed. She was definitely trying to control the situation. Meanwhile, the group sitting around enjoyed the scene unfolding in front of them.

I didn't understand what was happening. What did she want to apologize for that she hadn't said already? I felt like I was being used by her as some sort of toy she could play with for a few seconds then throw it aside, and we hadn't even been on a date.

I closed the door when I walked in, and she pushed me against it and kissed me. It wasn't a peck on the cheek. She had her tongue between my shocked lips and was seeking mine out before I registered what was happening.

I resisted the urge to kiss her back for exactly three milliseconds, before I wrapped her in my arms and leaned my head to the side to kiss her properly.

A minute later, she broke the kiss and backed away from me.

"Uh, apology accepted," I said before sliding away from her and sitting on the couch next to the door. "Would you mind telling me what the hell that was?"

"I wanted to do that in your room in New York, but I was afraid we'd end up in your bed. I'm not ready for that. Believe it or not, I'm saving myself for someone special."

"Uh, huh?"

"When Julia told me you were here, I knew I had another shot and needed to get my head out of my ass."

"Julia?"

She nodded and sat on the other end of the couch.

"She works at the Italian Ice shack."

"The photographer can't keep his mouth shut, huh? Great. This'll be the last time I use him."

"If he hadn't bragged about his current client to her, I wouldn't have known you were here. Then, I couldn't have stolen my roommate's car to get here and, um, apologize. Maybe, you should let him off with a warning."

"What is this, Lisa? I mean seriously. What is it with you?"

I was confused, happily confused, but confused, nonetheless.

"I was wrong to be afraid of getting to know you. I got a full ration of shit from my dad about how nice of a guy you are. Then you made that deal to start touring less, and I realized it wouldn't be as much of a circus anymore. Don't get me wrong, I'd love it if you never did a tour again, but I know that it's your job and is a part of you."

"It is that," I said.