To show their thanks, Ariana and Jon wanted to
give you a little glimpse into the past and a bit of history in their
relationship. I wish you all a very happy and safe Thanksgiving holiday this
year. Eat and be merry! ~Tori
Have A Nice Day Tour - Show 10
November 19, 2005 - Auburn Hills, MI
It was the last show before a week-long break
for Thanksgiving. The crew and other band members were happy they would be
heading home to spend the holiday with their respective loved ones.
Not Jon.
He was sitting in the confines of a brick room
backstage at the Auburn Palace Arena trying to come up with the night’s
setlist. If there was any indication as to where his head was, it damn sure
wasn’t back in New Jersey from what he had jotted down so far. He was starting
to regret ever committing to play this album in its entirety.
Let’s face it, since 2003 his life was pretty
much on autopilot, and his marriage of fourteen years was reduced to nothing
but a piece of paper – at best. The only thing that kept him around was
his love for his children... and his money.
So, if he wasn’t as happy as the others about
this break who could blame him?
Glancing over the yellow piece of paper once
more, he realized what was missing, and it had nothing to do with his
setlist. The hollow spot he felt wasn’t
between “Wanted” and “Prayer” but in his chest, and there was only one thing –
person – who’d ever filled it.
Ariana Moretti.
Forget that it had been too long since there
last meeting. He didn’t care that she
wouldn’t welcome him with open arms. Jon
felt a sudden urgency to see her. The
question was, could he make it happen tonight?
Not without Jeanie’s help, he acknowledged
with a quick look at his watch. There
was just enough time to call his assistant before hitting the stage, and he did
so with a list of tasks that would daunt anyone but the woman who kept his life
running. Jeanie simply took it in
stride, and while he made music, she made magic.
Jon spent the entire flight from Michigan to Canada
rehearsing what he’d say when coming face to face with Ariana again. He had to take advantage of the surprise
element, even though Jeanie had given him shit about not letting her alert Ari
of his arrival. If he’d called ahead,
she would’ve refused to see him and made it difficult to find her.
This way, he knew exactly where to go.
Now, five minutes to closing time, he sat in
the back of the hired car watching the last few patrons exit Petit Soho. He
waited longer than necessary, wanting to make sure there was no one left before
going inside.
Or maybe he was just stalling, afraid she
would send him packing the minute she laid eyes on him.
If he didn’t get out of the car, he would
never know.
Knocking on the privacy glass, he asked the
driver to please wait and stepped from the car.
The crisp Canadian air had him shivering as light snow fell onto his
shoulders.
Here goes nothing.
“Sorry, we’re closed.” She called the
greeting over her shoulder before the bell had stopped jingling over the door,
without bothering to turn from the till she was counting. God, it was good to see her.
“Even for me?”
Ariana’s heart literally skipped a beat as her
hands froze in mid-count of a stack of bills.
Barely more than a whisper and tinted with the hoarseness that followed
a show, she still recognized that voice.
What is he doing here?
Slowly, she put the uncounted money back into
the register and turned around.
God, look at him.
He looked so tired. Dark circles underscored his eyes, blond
locks were completely disheveled, and he wore a small “is it okay I’m here”
smile. No, it wasn’t okay, but she still
fought the urge to run across the room and pull him into her arms with the
assurance everything would be alright.
But she didn’t dare.
Instead she stayed behind the bar as if it was
some kind of protection barrier.
“Jon.” Her voice cracked as she said his name.
“What are you doing here?”
“I needed… wanted to see you.” He took
two steps closer.
“So, you just show up? No warning? No call?”
Two more steps accompanied his softly posed,
“Would you have agreed if I called?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Which is why I’m standing here at four in the
morning.” Closing the remaining distance between him and the bar, Jon
made sure to stay on his side. He could see she was still a little hesitant,
which he suspected she would be. Pressing his hands upon the worn wood he
leaned across the bar. “Can I stay?”
“And if I say no?”
“I’ll do whatever it is you want. I just
needed to see you.”
God knew she should send him away before this
went any further, Ari thought. Or before
her Grandmother came down those steps and did it for her. But now that he was close enough to get a
good look at, she just couldn’t.
What she’d thought were dark circles were more
like bags – suitcases, really – and when she looked into the sea of blues, she
could see remnants of the boy she met all those years ago.
Damn him for always making her feel like
this.
Blowing out a breath, she turned and reached
for the bottle of Jack she kept next to the register.
“Drink?” She waved the bottle before
pouring herself a hefty glass.
“Sure.” He removed his coat, folding it onto
the stool at his left before sitting down and nonchalantly asking, “So, how've
you been?”
Slamming a glass down in front of him, she
tossed back her drink and poured a refill.
“This…” She waved her fresh drink between
them. “Not happening just yet. You
sit. I work. Besides, I'll need a few more of these to
actually do this.”
He agreed with nothing more than a nod, afraid
that any more would give her reason to kick him out. Jon simply picked up the drink and sipped
while watching her go through the closing routine.
Trying to pretend she couldn't feel his eyes
following her every move while she worked was almost as hard as figuring out why
he was actually here. For all intents and purposes, they were still
good friends. They always would be, keeping
in touch regularly through all forms of communication except this.
Face to face was always a difficult – for both
of them. He’d been lost beyond repair
the last couple of times, to the point she hadn’t known if she could bring him
back. But she had, and despite all his
promises, she still struggled.
Swiping a rag over the bar, Ari took a covert
glimpse at his left hand and found no ring.
What did that mean exactly?
Maybe nothing, she thought while writing a
quick note to her grandmother that explained she was spending the night at
Cara’s. After a quick trip to turn off
the kitchen lights, she finally ventured out from behind the bar. The lock on the front door clicked loudly in
the silence, and Ari took a deep breath before turning to look at him.
"I assume you're staying at the St.
James?" When his head simply tilted yes, she tugged the belt of her
sweater. "Then let's go. I won't be responsible if Lili finds you
here."
The ride to the hotel took place in silence
other than Jon’s instructions to the driver.
Whatever this was would wait until they were
behind closed doors, and when the car pulled up to the curb, she pulled the
handle and stepped out onto the snowy sidewalk without waiting for him. Ari crossed the lobby of the St. James and
made a beeline for the elevator bank while Jon visited the concierge to get his
waiting key. She could hear the pulleys
lifting the elevator car to the correct floor, and the chime of their arrival
was deafening in the early morning hours.
It wasn't until they were safely within the
confines of his – their – suite that she finally spoke.
"Jon, what are we doing here?"
If it was possible, he looked even more tired
when tossing the key on a table. "Do
you mean this suite or Montreal?"
"Both." She took a seat on the
couch, curling a leg under her while he pushed both hands in his pockets and
watched.
"I told you. I needed to see you."
"Why now?"
"Crash, I always need to see you.”
“Shouldn’t you be somewhere in Michigan?” she
demanded, purposely ignoring the use of her old nickname and the soft feelings
it stirred.
Jon’s mouth curled at one corner, not
surprised that she knew where he’d been tonight. It only solidified his reasons for showing up
here.
“We have the week off for the
holiday." He offered a questioning motion at the empty cushion next
to her, and when she didn’t object, settled on it without touching her. No matter how badly he ached to, she wasn’t
ready for it yet. "Listen, I know
we had an agreement, but I just can't."
"What about what I want?"
"We can still see each other without
strings."
"Funny, but haven't we tried that
before?"
"Yes. But this time will be
different."
She snorted softly and swung her head with
disgust. "Coming from the man who
always breaks that rule."
"Hey.
It takes two to tango, yanno."
"That's not fair and you know
it." His presence was overwhelming.
She couldn’t be this close to him and…
She couldn’t be this close to him.
Springing to her feet, she crossed to the bar and poured her usual,
savoring the familiarity. The amber
liquid coated her throat, which still tingled with heat when she launched the
speech that had to be given, "I can't ...."
"It's over,” he cut her off without
concern for her obligatory objections. “It's been over since the first time I
told you. And the second. And the third, for that matter. What happened with
Romeo was the final straw. We've been through this a hundred times."
"Yet you're still married," she
reminded flatly when reaching for the bottle again, only to stop. As much as she wanted to drink the whole damn
thing, she needed to slow it down.
Otherwise, she would get stupidly drunk and do something stupid... again.
"Crash, please. Come sit so we can talk. I promise that's all
that will happen."
She didn’t believe him but couldn’t seem to
stop her feet from backtracking to the couch he hovered on the edge of. He was the magnet that always had the power
to draw her.
This time when she sat down, she drew her
knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them to look him square in
the eyes. The weariness and pleading she
found there took her annoyance, making her tone gentle when again asking, "Why
are you really here?"
"Like you said, we were in Michigan
getting ready for the show. Everyone was talking about heading home for the
holidays and what they were thankful for. All I could think about was the kids
and you." He raked a shaky hand through his hair. "The two things
that mean more to me than the air I breathe, and yet I can't have both."
"So you flew a few hundred miles out of
your way, to what? To say hi?"
"I don't know. I guess."
Ari shook her head. Still after all these
years he was still just a young, conflicted boy. "You could have saved
fuel and called."
"It's not the same, and you know it. Hide
all you want, but you miss this…" He waggled a finger back and forth between
them. "…too."
"Who says I’m hiding?"
He lifted his chin when calling her bluff, "Then
come work for me."
"What would that solve?"
"For one, we would see each other a
helluva lot more. Not to mention the money I would save on fuel." Her
short laugh made him smile and gave life to the flicker of hope he’d been
harboring since before tonight’s show. "Ari,
I swear to you it's nothing more than a piece of paper and has been
since..."
His voice trailed off, tugging at Ariana’s
heartstrings as it did. Even after all
this time it was still tough for him. She would never forget all the
heartache that woman put him through over that.
"Jonny, we've been there and done that
how many times already?”
God it pained him every time she called him
Jonny. If only he was smarter all those years ago. Maybe then they wouldn’t be having this
conversation.
But he hadn’t been smarter and now they had to
play the hand he’d dealt them – and he played to win.
“Do you love me?” He asked her point
blank.
“That’s not fair and you know it.”
“Fuck fair! Do. You. Love. Me?”
Her sigh of exasperation wasn’t the answer he
was looking for, nor was the evasion that followed.
“Can't we just enjoy tonight for what it is? A
chance for two friends to catch up. Then tomorrow," she glanced at her
watch and realized it was tomorrow. "When are you planning on going
back?"
As much as he wanted to push her for the
words, Jon didn’t, because he already knew she did. She wouldn’t be here
in his hotel room if she didn’t.
Or would she?
Maybe she’d hesitated to answer because she was with someone.
Pushing that thought far from his mind he
sighed and chose to believe what he wanted while conceding to her wishes. "I didn’t really plan that far ahead,
but I could stay as long as you’ll let me.
Just so I’m back in time to take the kids to see the parade floats being
blown up.”
Ariana scooted herself closer and took his
hand in hers. “How ‘bout we do this?
I’m starving.”
Jon savored that touch like a kid on his first
movie date, even as he rolled his eyes.
“When are you not?” he asked dryly before pressing a kiss to her
knuckles.
“Hush. Or I’ll leave right now,” she
threatened without heat. “First we eat
and talk. After that…. We’ll see.”
It wasn’t ideal, but he’d take what he could
get. “Okay, but you’re not ordering that
yuck!”
She didn’t order the yuck.
They talked and laughed over “normal” food for
hours on end, just like old times until she started getting sleepy. When she wanted to leave, Jon begged her
stay, offering her the bedroom if she would.
Part of him was still afraid that if she left, she would be gone forever,
and he just wasn’t ready for that.
He even pinky-crossed his heart and swore that
he’d keep his hands to himself. The
promise was a weak one, and they both knew it wouldn’t last.
Because neither of them wanted it to.
He convinced himself of that while watching
her sleep as he had a hundred times before.
She was on her back with the sheet bunched
between her legs. The black camisole top and matching boyshorts could’ve been
the same or new. It was hard telling,
since it was her favorite look – and his.
Temptation beckoned him mercilessly until Jon
eased down the sheet covering the ample softness of her breasts. A protruding erect nipple was the only thing
keeping the thin strap from releasing them.
He knew he promised, but his cock pulsed so
hard he thought he could actually hear the blood pumping through it. Hell, it’d been pulsing from that moment in
the bar when she turned around and cast witchy green eyes upon him.
A gentle fingertip stretched out to stroke the
tip of her nipple, which puckered at the touch.
Sliding his finger under the strap, he lifted it up as her breast fell
to the side, close to his mouth. His tongue stretched out to lap at the pink
bud, and this time she stirred at the contact.
“Hey, what are you doing in here? You
promised.” she asked in a sleepy tone.
“Sssh.” He whispered against her taut flesh,
then sucked, causing the pebbled peak to grow harder. “Let me love you.”
The soft plea of desperation would destroy a
stronger woman, and God knew that when it came to Jon, Ari was not a strong
woman. How could she deny the man who
loved her? He may legally belong to
another, but she knew with every fiber of her soul that he was hers in the ways
that mattered.
She felt it with every kiss of his lips. With every stroke of his tongue. She even felt it in every breath that he
took.
Maybe it was wrong of her, but she loved him
just as much. Maybe more.
Why should she deny herself this once-in-a-lifetime
love, even if it was only for one night?
She reached out, bringing him close enough to
breathe over his lips, “Yes. Love me.”
