Author's Note: This is one of my earliest works and a fun one to follow. I would like to thank all of you for kind reviews and emails that I have received here regarding my writing. Please, let me know what you think about my story, both good and bad.
I honestly read my reviews and am always willing to learn! ~Clara.
This version of Dusty Rose - 3 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.
Chapter 1
"Honey, I am not going to lecture you, but if the doctor said to wait a week, then why not wait a week?" Chris's mom was stressed. Her twins were hundreds of miles away from home and Chris had just had surgery. Minor surgery, as these things go, yes, but surgery, none the less. When he'd told her that he had no real pain, just some pulling on the skin on his chest as it stretched and healed, she still wasn't happy.
"Honestly, mom, I'm fine. The worst thing is this ugly bra that I have to wear for another week. Besides, the girls have recorded a lot of the tracks. I need to be there. I've been cooped up in this room since I got home on Friday and I'm going crazy! I'm too anxious to stay here."
"I know, honey, but it's only Tuesday..."
"Mom..."
"Ok. Ok. I just wish you weren't there all alone, sweetheart. When will Terry be back?"
"I don't know, mom. They were at the studio till nearly midnight, last night. I guess that they'll be back when they're done."
"Well, isn't there anyone who could be there with you?"
"Mom, please."
"I'm sorry, baby. I'm just so concerned about you being there all alone. Please, if you're lonely, or just want to talk, please, please, just call me. Any time, honey. Any time at all. Ok?"
"Ok, mommy."
"You're sure that it's ok to go back, tomorrow, right?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'm seeing Dr Casey at 9:00. She says that, unless there's any issues with the incisions, I can go back if I want. And I really, really want to, mom."
"Ok, baby. I'll let you get some rest. Love you."
"Love you, too, mommy. Bye, bye."
Chris hit the 'end' button on his phone and sighed. He hadn't used Skype or FaceTime to call his mom because he looked awful. He hadn't been allowed to shower for a few days, so his hair was looking hideous and since the girls had gone before he'd awakened this morning and he knew that he wouldn't have any company, he'd decided not to put on any makeup, today.
The problem was, though, he felt like the old Chris - un-needed, no friends and alone. He hated this. He felt like he was losing momentum and he needed to get back to the studio or he'd bust wide open.
There was a knock on the door to the suite, Chris knew it was room service with the chicken soup he'd ordered. "Just leave it by the door, thanks! I'll grab it in a minute." He called.
"No can do," a voice called back. "I need to talk to my beautiful superstar face-to-face."
It was Allen Bennett, Chris recognized his voice. "Damnit," he whispered, then he shouted, "Mr Bennett?"
"Oh, man. You guessed," chuckled back the voice.
Chris tried to think of an excuse, but nothing came to his mind. "Umm, Mr Bennett... I'm really a mess in here. Can I see you in the morning?"
He heard Mr Bennett sigh.
"Come on, your highness. I know what a person looks like 5 days after surgery. Open the door, Chrissie, I need to talk to you."
Reluctantly, Chris opened the door and let him in.
Allan stepped in, then turned to look at Chris. "Oh, dear God!" he joked, "you're a monster!"
Chris rolled his eyes and pulled his robe around him a bit tighter as he chuckled at the joke.
"Here," Allan handed Chris a room service tray, "the room service guy was on the elevator with me. I don't think that chicken soup and a bread-stick is part of Denise's diet plan, is it?"
Chris took the tray and shrugged. "She's been ignoring me the last few days, same as everyone else."
Allan took a seat on the sectional sofa and indicated that Chris should join him. "Oh, poor little thing. No one loves her. Honest to God, you're breaking my heart. Ok, enough about you. We need to talk. When are you coming back?”
“Tomorrow, I hope, if Dr Casey says I can.”
“Thank goodness! Did the girls play anything that they've recorded this week for you?”
Chris sipped his soup and shook his head.
“I'm not surprise, Chrissie. It's not going great and I'm getting concerned. We had such a great start, but now they're floundering a bit without you.”
“Me!?” Chris nearly spit out his soup. “Why me? I don't play guitar that much and both Terry and Grace are twenty times better than me. I thought everything was going fine.”
“Fine, yes. Great, no. Here's the thing, Chrissie. When I try to tell them how to do something better, they shut down. They don't seem to understand what I'm getting at. But, I've watched you guys working. When you tell them how to do it, they get it. You know how to communicate with them better than I do. I guess it's a kind of WonderTwins thing. You know?”
“Not really.” Chris was a little perplexed. He’d never heard of ‘The Wonder Twins.’ He remembered what Margo had said the other day. She’d said that Allan wanted the girls had to come up to Chris’ level.
“Mr Bennett...”
“Oh, my God, you girls... please, knock it off. Call me Allan, please.”
Chris thought about it for a moment, but shook his head and continued, “Mr Bennett... sorry, I can't call you by your first name, yet. It's how my mom raised me. Anyway, I don't think it's me or what I say. I think it's us. You know, it's like that saying – ‘The whole is better than the sum of the individual parts.’ Like... do you know who The Beatles were?”
Allan looked incredulous. “Yes, Chris, I've heard of The Beatles. What does that have to do with you and the girls. Please, don't tell me that you're comparing yourselves to The Beatles?”
“No, no, it's just... well, my dad loved The Beatles, so I did too. I know every song backwards and forwards and, as I got ready for coming here, I read a lot about how they worked in the studio and, I think it was George Harrison who pointed it out, but, whoever it was, he said that they had a shorthand, you know what I mean.”
Allan nodded.
“So, once they had a song and played through it a few times, they'd just look at each other in a certain way and everyone knew what that look meant. I think it's the same way for the girls and me. I mean, I've only been in the band for a month or so, but Terry and I have played together since we were 5 or 6. Our dad taught us how and he and Terry and I would play every night. I know how to communicate with her and she knows how to communicate with everyone, so... I don't know, it just works.”
Allan smiled. “Ok, I get it. So, hopefully we can get better communication going tomorrow, ok?
“Ok.”
Allan hesitated. “Does your dad know about... this?” He indicated Chris’ clothing and new breasts.
Chris shook his head, no.
“Do you want me to tell him?”
“My dad’s dead, sir.”
“Oh, Chris. I'm sorry. I didn't know. How did he pass away. Was he ill?”
“No, sir. It was because of me.”
“What?” Allan was truly confused. “What do you mean, Chris?”
“Well, sir. When I was a boy, I was kind of always kind of sick. Terry was always healthy and smart and athletic while I was always missing school and in the hospital. Eventually, they figured out that I had a rare blood disease and they were able to treat it, but for awhile, like from fourth to seventh grade, I was in the hospital more than I was home.”
Allan realized that this was probably the reason for Chris’ small frame and shy nature. Poor kid.
“So,” Chris continued, “this one night, Terry had a concert at school and dad never missed anything like that, so he went and he used a video camera to record it for me. He told me he'd come to the hospital to show me after the concert and he did, but while we were watching it, it started to snow pretty heavily. When he left at 10:00 that night, he said he loved me and that he'd be back in the morning to eat breakfast with me as usual. Anyway, he never made it home.”
Allan was speechless for a moment. “Chris, I'm so sorry.”
Chris shrugged. “So, I guess it was my fault, you know. If I'd been at home, my dad would still be alive, but, I wasn't, so my mom was alone and Terry didn't have a dad... and it was kind of all my fault.”
Chris didn't cry, but Allan saw his sorrow. It was deep and irrational, but Chris was showing him sadness as deep as his soul.
“Chris, you know that it wasn't your fault. Your dad loved you and was concerned. There's a reason that these things are called accidents, you know.”
Chris half-nodded and half-shrugged. This was probably the first time he'd ever said this out loud and he couldn't even look at Allan after saying it.
“Chris, when you sing, I can hear such deep, beautiful feeling in your voice. I think, just maybe, that when you sing, part of you can sense your dad right there with you, can't you?”
Chris nodded and a tear ran down both cheeks.
“You know what I think, Chris? I think your dad can feel you when you sing, too. I think you can channel his love when you open your mouth and let that beautiful sound come out. What do you think?”
Chris’ head rolled forward and he tried to hide his tears with his hair, but he gave a little nod and said, “I hope so,” very quietly.
Allan reached over and patted Chris’s back. “I sorry, honey. I didn't mean to upset you.”
Chris shook his head and raised it back up. “No. I'm not upset. It's just been a very sad and lonely day for me.”
“Can I make a suggestion?”
Chris nodded, again.
“Write a song. When you're sad, write it down. People love sad songs. What was your dad's favorite song?”
Chris thought, then said, “I don't know. He listened to everything and loved it all. When he sang, he had this great, low voice. Very manly, you know? People loved to hear him sing. Just this afternoon, I was trying to remember this one song that he used to always sing, but I can't remember it. It was kind fast and a little folky, but I just can't remember it.”
Allan smiled, “Did you ask your mom?”
“No. I never bring up dad unless she does and I think she avoids bringing him up so that something like this doesn't happen.”
He smiled at Mr Bennett.
“You’re a very talented young guy, Chris. Your dad would be proud.”
Chris gave a nervous shrug, “My dad would probably be as confused as I am, right now. I mean, I know that I'm doing the right thing... it all feels so right... so, I guess it has to be right... but I really never dreamed that I'd ever be where I am right now and I certainly never dreamed I be recovering from breast implant surgery or wondering what dress to wear to the studio.”
Allan gave a reassuring smile, held up a finger, stood and disappeared into Chris’ room for a moment. When he reemerged, he was carrying a simple, light blue, casual summer dress on a hanger. “I'll make it easier for you, sweetheart. Wear this tomorrow. Blue is beautiful on you. It'll give you a little extra something when you sing. Ok? We’ll call it your power-dress.” He hung it from the moulding around the closet door.
Chris smiled. He knew that Allan was just being a ‘dad’ for him right now and he found it very sweet. “Ok, I'll wear that tomorrow.” He laughed just a bit to himself because not only was the dress Terry’s, but she had worn it to the studio a few times already. Obviously, Allan had not noticed.
“Ok, Chris. I'm going to head out. Let me know how tomorrow goes and come back as soon as you can, ok?”
“Ok,” said Chris.
Allan gave him a hug, then put his hand under Chris’ chin and raised it so he could wipe the tears from his cheeks. “You gonna be ok?”
“Yeah. I'm fine.”
“Ok. See you tomorrow, I hope, and, if you do happen to write a good song tonight, bring it with you. We could use one or two more for the album.” He placed a very welcomed kiss on Chris’s cheek and headed out the door.
“Ok,” Chris smiled as he closed the door behind Allan. He considered trying to write a little, but he didn't feel inspired without Terry and Margo. So, he decided to just put on his nightie and go to bed. Who knew when the girls would be home and it was better to be asleep than lonely.
Chapter 2
“It's good, girls, I'm telling you the truth,” said Mark Johnson, the assistant producer and recording tech for their album. “Allan’s going to like it, I promise. Why don't we call it a day?”
Margo snickered, “What's the matter, Mark? Can't wait for your date with Terry?”
Terry punched Margo in the shoulder, “Shut up, you tease. He's right. I think that the tracks sound good. Until we get Chris back, I think we're in good shape.”
Grace and Gina walked into the booth. Both had changed into new Country-style, short dresses with new cowgirl boots.
“So, are we done?” Asked Gina, “Cause I can't play drums dressed like this.”
“I guess so,” Margo said with a little frustration in her voice. “Since the three of you are all letting your hormones get the better of you, there doesn't seem to be any thing else we can do, tonight.”
“Good!” Exclaimed Mark, as her grabbed Terry by the waist and pulled her onto his lap. “Why don't you get all prettied up, like Gina and Grace, and I'll change my shirt and we can all go dancing!”
Terry gave him a quick peck, turned and grabbed the dress and accessories that she'd bought during dinner break and grinned broadly as she ran to the women’s room to change. Mark stood and started unbuttoning his shirt.
“What do you say, Margo?” Mark encouraged her for the 14th time. “We can swing into a store for a nice dress on the way, then all of us can go. It'll be fun! Come on.”
Margo smiled, “No. I'm going back to check in on Chrissie. She must be lonely.”
“Oh, how sweet,” Grace said, as she changed her earrings.
“Oh, yeah,” Gina teased. “You tell us not to go out, but your headed back to your little piece of tush-y at the hotel.”
“Oh, hush,” Grace joined the teasing, “but remember that she's only a high school junior. Nothing beyond second base.”
Margo laughed with them as Terry came back in. “What did I miss?” Terry asked.
“Just reminding your bass player, here,” said Gina, “that your pretty little sister is only seventeen.”
“Ugg,” joked Grace, “bass players are the worst. Always looking for a piece of ass.”
They all laughed.
Mark, who was used to the playful banter, joined in the laughter as he buttoned his clean shirt. “Wait, aren't you in college?” He asked Terry.
“I was till a few weeks ago.”
“Oh. I thought that you and Chris were twins.”
“We are. It's a long story, but we are twins.”
“So... shit, are you only seventeen!?”
The others laughed as Terry nodded.
“You are robbing the cradle, Mark, my man,” Margo joked as she threw her arm around his shoulder, “but, don't worry about it. So am I.” She said, as she slapped his shoulder and they all headed to the elevators.
When they reached the lobby, there were two town cars waiting for them. Mark, Terry, Grace and Gina all piled into one while Margo got into the other.
The hotel suite was dark when Margo arrived. She had expected Chris to still be up, it was just 10:00. She creeped up to his bedroom door and peeked in. The room was dark and his breathing was deep and steady – he was asleep.
Margo let a disappointed sigh pass her lips as she went to her room to change. She stripped to her panties and put on a tank-top and a pair of women’s silk boxer-bottoms and climbed into bed. She rolled to her side and could already tell that sleep was hours away.
“This is ridiculous,” Margo said in a frustrated whisper. She threw her blankets off and walked directly back to Chris’ door. She quietly opened the door, slipped in and crawled into bed behind Chris, as quietly as she could.
Chris felt her and stirred. “Hi,” he whispered.
“Hi,” Margo whispered back and pulled his hair gently off of his face and laid it behind his head.
Chris barely opened his eyes, but was enjoying the feel of his hair being combed by her fingers. “Did things go well?”
“They went ok. We miss you. Can't wait for you to come back,” and she began kissing his shoulder and neck.
Chris jumped awake and turned to see who was kissing him.
“What!?” Said Margo, startled by his movement.
Chris shook his head, “Oh, God, I thought you were Terry. You scared me,” and he settled down into her embrace, but facing her so he could turn his head upward to kiss her soft, firm lips.
Margo’s hands slipped down his shoulders and grazed his new and still bandaged breasts. They definitely felt different than the breast forms he’d been wearing.
Then she worked her way to the hem of his nightie and slid her hand under the flimsy material to find his penis surrounded by silky panties. As they kissed, she caressed him through the panties and teased, “Ooh, look what I found in your little panties. That's not very lady like, now is it!?”
Chris was too aroused and too inexperienced to know how to respond.
Eventually, Margo laid him on his back and moved to kneel between his thighs. She pulled his penis free of the panties and gently teased the tip with her tongue.
“Will this be your first blowjob?”
Chris panted and nodded.
“Then I'll make it memorable,” she smiled.
She took him all the way in to her mouth, while teasing his balls with her softly-calloused finger tips.
Chris let out shocked breaths and moans, gripping the sheets while trying to force himself deeper into Margo’s throat.
She pulled off for a moment and said, “Don't worry, sweet girl. Just let it come,” and she devoured him again.
It didn't take long for him to exploded into her mouth as he screamed a high and feminine sound at this massive orgasm.
Margo licked him clean and pulled the panties back up.
When she had repositioned herself so that she was half-upright with pillows behind her and Chris’s head was resting on her breast, she raised his mouth to hers and, through a long and passionate kiss, deposited all of his seed into his mouth.
When she was sure he’d swallowed completely, she broke the kiss and smiled lovingly at him. His hair was a mess from not being able to shower and the combination of the pretty little nightie and no makeup made him look like a little girl in her arms.
“Did you like that?” She asked
“I did.”
“Did it taste good?”
Chris just looked back up, smiled and hugged her some more.
“I bet it did. It'll help you sleep, baby. Now, close your eyes and Margo’s going to hold you all night.”
Chapter 3
“Hey,” someone was whispering. “Wake up.”
Margo opened her eyes and saw Terry standing over her. Terry held up a finger to her mouth and quietly made a ‘shhh’ sound and indicated for Margo to come out into the suite.
Margo slipped out of the bed as gently as she could and tiptoed out of the bedroom behind Terry.
“Did you fuck my little brother?” Terry turned on Margo.
“What!? No. We just cuddled and fooled around a little, but, no, I didn't...” Margo was in shock. “What the heck time is it?”
“6:15. Denise will be here in a few minutes.” It was Grace who answered. Margo hadn't realized that both Grace and Gina were standing behind her with their arms folded in exactly the way that Terry’s were.
“Hi,” Margo said to them both.
Terry spoke again, “I come home at 1:45 and I find you in my bed with my little brother. What's going on?”
Margo was confused. She'd told Terry that she had a thing for Chris. Why was this a big deal?
“I just wanted to hold him and... well, we fell asleep.”
“Did you... well, did my little brother’s penis... you know... penetrate...?”
“OH, MY GOD! No!” Margo was suddenly moving to the offensive. “What about you? You look like you just finished the walk-of-shame! You’re wearing the same clothes you wore last night!”
“Because YOU were sleeping in MY room, on MY pillow, which is on top of MY nightie!”
“Oh...” Margo balked. “Well, Terry, come on. I told you, I'm really falling for Chrissie. We were just, you know, together. No... penetration... as you so politely put it. I think I really love him – or her, I guess. I am smitten, guys. I am in deep smit.”
The other girls exchanged glances and relaxed, then slowly, grins came followed by laughter.
Margo realized that they were playing a practical joke on her. Part of her wanted to laugh along with it and part of her wanted to dope-slap each of the other girls. “You assholes!” she finally laughed. “You complete assholes!”
Gina hugged Margo pushed her towards her bedroom. “Go on – get changed. Denise is coming.”
Just then, there was a rhythmic knock at the door – the same rhythmic knock that had occurred every weekday morning 6:30 since they arrived. “Damnit!” Margo said as she ran into her room to change. Terry did the same.
Denise entered and pushed her cart to the center of the room, then realized that only Gina and Grace were ready. “Where are the others? I know that her royal highness is excused for another couple of days, but her sister and the tall one... where are they?”
Both girls scurried into the room in clean shorts and tee shirts. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
“Alright ladies, let's start with some stretching,” Denise began, but Margo interrupted.
“You know, Denise, it's been two weeks and I really don't think you know our our names. I'm Margo, that's Gracie, that's Gina, that's Terry and Chrissie is still in bed. Can we, please, use our correct names?”
Denise was a little peeved. ‘Huh, all these young kids. Think their all going to be stars...’ she thought. “Alright Terry, Gracie and Gina. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” they said in unison.
“How about you, tall, blonde and mouthy? Are you ready?”
Margo nodded, “You’re getting better. We’ll win you over, eventually.”
“Sure you will. Ok ladies, let’s get those muscles stretched out.”
Chapter 4
“Ok, well, everything looks real good,” Dr Casey said as she checked the small incisions on the sides of Chris’s chest. “No seepage and these are feeling fine. How do you feel?”
“Good, I guess. My chest doesn't feel like its being stretched any more. I hate this ugly bra, though.”
She laughed, “Just deal with it for another ten days and you can go back to your pretty bras, again. Oh, and by the way, I wouldn't plan on doing any topless work, if I were you. We didn't work on your nipples at all, so you've got perfectly developed breasts and little girl nipples. They'll probably be more sensitive, but keep them out of sight, ok?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
As Chris took the elevator down to the lobby, he felt great relief. The doctor said that everything was fine and he could get back to the studio. He had expected Terry to have come with him, but Mr Bennett had insisted that she be at the studio. Actually, he was happy about that, now. He really needed a shower before the studio. Now that the bandages were gone, he could get in and wash his body and hair. He may even feel human again. Maybe even pretty for the first time in a few days.
“There's America’s Next Top Model!” joked her town car driver for the day, an elderly (at least 50 years old) southern man with greying highlights in his kinky hair. His name was Willy and he had a great smile. Chris had met him several times before and was happy for his company and enthusiasm today.”
“Haha, very funny, Willy,” Chris teased as, without thinking, he gave Willy a friendly hug. Willy was a big guy, at least six foot two or three and in the area of three hundred pounds. When Willy hugged him back, Chris felt buried in his arms and he liked that.
“Everything ‘aces,’ sweetie?” Willy asked as he led Chris to the rear passenger door.
“Everything’s aces, Willy, but can I sit up front with you and talk?”
“Sure, baby-girl! Anything you want! You know, I have a daughter just about your age and, I swear, when she gets into the car, she buries her face in that cell phone of hers and she doesn't hear a word I say till she jumps out.”
Willy closed the front passenger door after Chris was seated and jogged to the driver’s side, pulling himself in with a few pants and cusses. “Whew! Tough to get old, baby-cakes, but considering the
alternative...”
Chris laughed. It was nice to have someone to talk to.
It took 30 minutes to get back to the hotel and that whole time they listened to all kinds of music, country, rock, blues, Broadway show tunes, and talked about each one. Willy had a really good ear and Chris loved his voice and told him so. He told Chris about bands that he'd never heard of; The Temptations, Booker T and the MGs, Sam and Dave...
“Willy, I think you may know more about bands than anyone I ever met!”
“Oh, sugar,” Willy chucked. “Don't start flirting with an old man like me. How old are you, lamb?”
“17.”
“17!? Shoot fire and save the matches! You're even younger than my Jojo. She'll be 19 in December.”
“I'd really like to meet her sometime, Willy.”
“Well, bless your heart. I'll make that happen, my little superstar.”
Chris smiled.
As the town car pulled up to the hotel, Chris said, “Willy, I have to take a quick shower, get changed and then get back to the studio. Can you do me a big favor.”
“Sure, baby. What do you need?”
“I’ve really been enjoying our talk. You know a lot about music. Usually, I don't meet people who know about more bands than me. So, will you, please, park in the garage and have lunch with me in the restaurant in the lobby so we can keep talking? My treat!”
“Oh, sugar, I really shouldn't be doing something like...”
“Please, Willy! I haven't had any breakfast and I've got to eat and I just don't want to be alone. My treat. Come on.”
Willy could see that this little, young woman was sincere. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Alright, precious. I'll meet you in the lobby in 30 minutes.”
Chris let out a little, “Yay!” As he bounced out of the town car.
As Chris headed for the hotel door, Willy lowered the passenger window and called out, “And I'll pay for my own meal!”
“No you won't!” Chris called back in a teasing manner and he skipped, happily, into the lobby.
The shower was wonderful! He felt glorious after several days without one. He got out, blew his hair dry, grabbed one of Terry’s hair bands and put his hair up, like Terry did, in a high ponytail with some whips in the front hanging down to frame his face. If it weren't for that hideous, plain looking bra, he would have felt great.
He went to the closet to grab a dress, but then he remembered Mr Bennett’s visit last night. Terry’s blue dress was still hanging on the door. He smiled playfully as he took it down and pulled it on. It was a little too big, but so what. It was a cute dress and Mr Bennett might think it was pretty.
In the lobby, Chris found Willy near the entrance to the restaurant
As the waiter came to the table, Chris said, “What would you like, Willy?”
“I'll have the grilled cheese and ham sandwich.”
“Chris smiled at the waiter, “I'll have the Cobb Salad and the gentleman will have the Fillet Mignon.”
The waiter smiled at Willy and raised his eye brows as he left.
“Sugar, you can't be spending money like that.”
“Sure I can,” Chris giggled. “Now, you were telling me about Otis Reading...”
Chapter 5
When Chris finally made it to the studio, the girls were trying to work out an instrumental section in one of the songs, so Chris went straight into the control room, but no one was there. Not wanting to interrupt their work, Chris pushed the mute buttons on the mixing console and grabbed an acoustic guitar that was leaning against the wall. His discussions with Willy had gotten him thinking about the groove in some older tunes. He quickly came up with a lick that he liked and started expanding that into an outline for a song.
Ten minutes later, Chris’ focus was completely consumed with his new song. Not a lot of lyrics yet, but a strong melody on the refrain. It was coming together. He was playing what he had again when he felt a kiss on the nape of his neck. As much as he wanted to reciprocate, he wanted to complete his review of the music even more.
“Hey,” was whispered into his ear as the kissing continued. He knew that Margo would understand if he continued till the end, so he just leaned his head to the side to allow more access for the kisses. He continued to strum and hum and sing nonsense syllables as his brain worked its creative muscles.
“I had a good time last night,” the whispers continued. Chris smiled and stayed focused. “Let's do it again, tonight.”
The kisses moved to his ear and cheek as he finished the song. With the last strum, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes to accept a forceful, passionate kiss on his lips. It tasted slightly of coffee and mint and Chris surrendered to the tongue that probed deeply into his mouth. An arm moved behind his head as he stretched higher to take the tongue deeper. He could feel himself submitting to the kiss; it was wonderful.
Then, something odd – Chris felt stubble rub his face. ‘Wait! What!?’ He thought and he opened his eyes to see Mark, their recording engineer, with his eyes closed, locked in a kiss with him.
With great difficulty, Chris pushed him away. “Mark!” He shouted and turned to looked out into the studio.
“What?” the very confused young man responded, but then followed Chris’ stare to the studio where he saw Gina, Grace, Margo and Terry setting down their instruments to take a break.
“How...? Who...? Oh, my God! Chrissie!? I thought you were Terry! I'm so sorry, but you weren't here when I left... and your hair... and... well... I'm so sorry!”
Chris was at a loss. No words formed and then the control room door opened and the girls filed in.
“Hey, look who's here!” Gina shouted.
“Hey, baby,” grinned Margo when she saw Chris’ flustered face, “what's up?”
“Nothing,” Chris said, way too excitedly. “Nothing's up. We didn't do anything. It was...”
“Yeah,” Mark interrupted, “Chris has been working on a song in here and I interrupted. It's pretty cool. I think y’all will love it, but he wanted to wait till you came in to play it.”
Chris was like a deer in the head lights. ‘Did they know? Had they seen? Oh, my God, oh, my God!’
“Great,” said Terry, as she moved beside Mark for a hug and a kiss. “Let's hear it. Hey, are you wearing my dress?” She giggled, “and my hair band, my pony tail... oh, my goodness, you're a little clone of me! Look at you!”
Chris blushed an even deeper shade of red. “Yeah. Mr Bennet told me to wear this today.”
“I did what, now?” asked Alan as he entered the control room from the door behind Chris. “Chrissie! You made it! That's great. We've got a lot to do. Now, what did I say?”
So many people in the room... and the kiss... Chris was getting overwrought by it all. Was there an escape?
“Chrissie said that you wanted her to wear my dress, today. That’s all,” Terry said as she snuggled closer to the man that Chris had been kissing just minutes before.
“YOUR dress?” Alan chuckled, “I assumed it was Chrissie’s. Stand up and let's take a look at you, honey.”
Chris stood and felt a little foolish with everyone looking at him. The dress was, undeniably, a little big on him, but only a little. It just made him look a little younger and smaller than a properly fitted dress would have.
“Well, I think you look beautiful, sweetheart,” Alan said and he pulled Chris into a hug. “Frankly, I think you'd look beautiful in pretty much anything, little girl,” he hugged him tightly, then turned him to face everyone else. “I can't believe that you kept all this feminine perfection under a bushel for 17 years. Thank goodness we came along to find the real you.”
“Agreed!” shouted Margo and she pulled him from Alan to her. “Thank goodness!”
“Ok,” Alan clapped his hands, “did I hear something about a new song? What have we got?”
All eyes were again on Chris, but he was ok with that if they were talking about music. “Umm, can I have about an hour to finish. Maybe, if Margo and Terry could work with me, it could be done faster than that. I always stumble on the lyrics.”
“Well, alrighty! Grace, Gina and Mark,” said Alan as he headed out the door, “looks like you have a one hour break.”
Chapter 6
“Geez, Chrissie,” Alan slammed his hand onto the table in the recording studio, “if this isn't one of the top three songs of this summer, I'll eat my Stetson hat!”
All five members of Dusty Rose bounced on the balls of their feet in excitement. The song, “Get Outta My Way!” was an aggressive, country rock song that was entirely different than anything else they were working on.
“If you could give me one more like this to round out this album, you five girls will be millionaires before New Years!”
Alan grabbed Chris by the shoulders, “Oh, little girl, you are something very, very special,” and with that he planted a kiss full on Chris’ lips. It only lasted a few seconds, but Chris’ heart stopped while the others whooped and hollered. “Now, write me or find me one more - Maybe something with a honky-tonk feel - and you girls will become legends!” and he exited the studio.
Twice! Twice in less than two hours! He'd kissed two men in less than two hours!
“Alright, girls!” Mark said, “let's start rehearing this one! It's not going to do us any good till it's in the can.”
Chapter 7
It was 1:48am and the other girls had been tucked into their beds for over an hour, but Chris and Mark were still working at the studio.
“Chrissy,” Mark called into the studio through the intercom system, “let's call it a night. You're too tired and we're not going to make any more progress here.”
Chris couldn't remember ever being this tired before. “Yeah... I guess.”
“I'll call for a car. Grab your stuff and I'll ride down with you. “
Chris put his purse over his shoulder and rode the elevator down to the lobby. When the doors opened, there was Willy standing by the door with a big smile on his face.
“Well, good evening, Mr Johnston. Good evening, Miss Christine.” Willy’s infectious smile made both Mark and Chrissy smile, too.
“Good evening, Willy,” Mark said. “Can I trust you with our most valuable cargo?”
Chris smiled, partially out of embarrassment and partially because, aside from Margo, Terry, Gina or Gracie, Willy’s face was the best possible way to end the day.
“Let's get you home and tucked in, young lady,” Willy chuckled as he waved goodnight to Mark and guided Chris to the back door of the town car. He opened the back door, but Chris continued around the car and pulled open the passenger side front seat door, smoothed his skirts under him, sat on the seat and closed his own door.
“That little girl sure has a mind of her own,” Willy chuckled as he closed the back door and pulled himself into the driver’s seat.
“Music?” Willy asked.
“Please.”
“Artist? Style? Era?”
“Your choice, Willy,” Chris rested his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes. “Just tell me about the songs as they play. I need to learn this stuff.”
“Ok, baby. How about some 60s and 70s pop music? That should keep us awake till we get to the hotel.”
Chris listened as the music played and Willy told him about the songs.
“Billy Ray was a preacher’s son and when his daddy would visit he'd come along...” flowed out of the speakers.
“Now, that's Dusty Springfield. Great voice. Part of the ‘blue-eyedsoul ’ movement. English girl, but sounded American...” he continued to tell Chris about the song, Dusty Springfield, soul music the British Invasion. He just kept talking.
Chris took it all in.
The next song started.
“Well, I tried to make it Sunday, but I got so damned depressed, that I set my sights on Monday and I got myself undressed...”
“Here's a different one. This band is called America, but none of the guys in the band were born in America. They were all military kids and grew up on bases around the world...” he continued and Chris listened.
Song after song played and Willy knew enough about each song to keep talking.
Chris was just starting to drift away when a familiar lick played and Chris sat bolt upright.
“You ok, honey?”
Chris stared at the radio as the lyric began.
“We've been running away from something we both know. We've long run out of things to say and I think I'd better go...”
Chris looked to Willy with a mix of excitement and confusion.
Willy hesitated, but then began talking, “This is Jim Croce. Short but great career. Nice, warm voice and knew how to sell a story. Died young in a plane crash in ’73 and left a wife and son and...”
“This is the song.” Chris whispered
Willy pulled to the side of the road and put the car in park. “What's the matter, baby.”
“This is the song, Willy. My dad’s song.”
Willy smiled and touched Chris’ chin.
“Your dad was a singer?”
“Not professional, but.. this is the song he used to sing for us. He used to drive us crazy singing it. I wish I could hear him sing it one more time, now, though.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “What's it called?”
Willy took-in the child next to him and pulled Chris to his side and let him just listen for a few moments. “It called ‘One Less Set of Footsteps,’ sweetheart.”
They listened until the song was over. By then Chris’ tears were flowing freely, but he wasn't sobbing. Just listening and remembering.
“You ok, honey?”
Chris sat up and wiped his eyes while smiling and letting out a little, embarrassed laugh. “I'm a lot of fun to be with, huh?”
Willy just smiled.
“I need a guitar, Willy. I have an idea.”
Willy put the car in gear, “No problem, your highness. This is Nashville. I'll get you a guitar.”
Chapter 8
At 2:45am, after a brief stop at an all-night pawn shop, Chris finally opened the door to the hotel suite with his phone in his right hand and a slightly used , natural-blonde Taylor acoustic guitar in his left. He had downloaded a recording of his dad's song to his phone and the guitar chords as well. He was exhausted, but his adrenaline was flowing through his veins, so he knew that he'd never get to sleep. He closed the doors to all the bedrooms, giving Terry and Margo pecks on their cheeks before sitting on the couch with the new guitar, his phone, a pad of paper and a pencil and he went to work.
At 6:00am, the girls were up to prepare for the daily workout with Denise and they found Chris asleep with his phone and a guitar laying across the same blue dress of Terry’s that he had been wearing yesterday.
“Honey, wake up,” Gracie whispered to him as she gently shook his shoulder. “Chrissie, wake up sweetie. Come on. You should get to bed for a few hours.”
When he regained consciousness, Chris sat up quickly and, with great excitement, asked them all to sit and listen to him.
“So, last night, I heard a song that I haven't heard in a long time. Terry, you know this.”
He grabbed the Taylor guitar and started playing the old Jim Croce song. The other girls nodded their heads to the groove and made remarks, “I've heard this,” “This is on my dad’s playlist,” “I like this.”
Terry just smiled as she heard Chris sing. When he was done, Terry’s eyes were watery with emotion. She came to the couch and pulled Chris into a deep, warm hug, burying his face in her shoulder and neck. When she released him, he sat back and smiled at her. They gazed at each other for several moments before Margo interrupted.
“Well, I'm confused. It's a good song, but it's not the kind of song that would make me cry.”
Terry smiled at her best friend and wiped the tears that were threatening to run down her cheeks from her eyes. “It's daddy’s song.”
“Come again?” asked Gina.
“When we were little, our dad used to play and sing for us. He’d sing all kinds of songs, but whenever he played in public, that's the song he’d always end with. We called it ‘Daddy’s Song’ and, when we wanted to hear him sing it, we’d clap and yell ‘Daddy’s Song! Daddy’s Song’ until he did it for us. I haven't heard it since daddy died.”
“Wow,” said Denise, who had entered unnoticed while Chris had been singing. “Seems like I'm breaking up something big, but we do need to get started.”
“Oh, wait, wait,” Chris said, grabbing his phone. “I used my GarageBand app to see if we could make this song work for us. I used a more contemporary drum beat and I added a ton of background vocals. Listen...”
Chris played his recorded tracks for the girls. When he was done, he went back and pointed out some of his biggest changes. “Gina, if you can kinda break out of the straight beat in the bridge and do something more like this (he clapped his hands in a syncopated manner to indicate his idea), I think it will open it up a lot. Gracie, if you could do this mandolin pattern (he demonstrated on his guitar) during most of the song, but then maybe work out an edgier solo, maybe on mandolin or maybe on electric guitar, I'm not sure, I think it would be really cool. Terry, if you could use a harder strum, like the original recording, but with a brighter string sound, I think it'd be a really rich sound under Gracie’s pattern. And, Margo, if you could double these guitar lines at the beginning middle and end, down an octave, then just play a standard bass-line under the rest of it, I think we could make this song kick butt!”
The girls were all focused on what Chris had just said and the deluge of creative conversation began with each talking to and over each other.
“Ladies, ladies!” Denise interrupted. “This is all well and good, but I am here to make your skinny little asses look good on stage, so put that aside and let's get started.”
There were three solid seconds of silence and stillness before Gina said, “Nope! No way! We need to get downtown, like now, while we’re this wired.”
There was a shout of general agreement and the other girls ran to their rooms to change, leaving Chris and Denise together in the room.
Denise, who had seen this kind of enthusiasm before and understood that she needed to let them off the hook today, smiled at Chris.
“Daddy’s Song, huh?”
Chris nodded as he put the guitar into its soft-case.
“I didn't know that... well, that your dad had passed away.”
Chris shrugged, “I know. It was a car accident on a snowy night, a few years back.”
Denise made a slightly uncomfortable gesture to offer comfort to someone that she barely knew. She smiled and rubbed Chris’ left shoulder with her right hand and then moved it to his cheek. “You are such a pretty little thing. I bet you were daddy’s little girl, weren't you.”
Chris was grateful for Denise’s empathy and stuttered on his reply. “No. Terry was always daddy’s little girl. Terry’s so much... better at... well, everything, you know? It's easy to be Terry’s parent. Me... I've always been the screwup. Never as good in school, or at sports, or at making friends as Terry. She’s kind of my hero... I mean, well, she was always both daddy and mommy’s little girl. I was always just... Chris.”
Denise couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had just seen this pretty little thing take complete control of everything, the music they would play, the song they would sing, how they would sing it and play it, everything. Now, she saw tremendous self doubt in this little girl. How?
“Oh, darling, I bet your daddy loved you just as much as he loved your big sister.”
“Twin. We're twins,” Chris said, then with a chuckle. “See, she even grew better than me. But, you know what, my mom and dad loved me just for being Chris and that's ok with me. As for Terry, there's nothing in the world better than being her little sister.”
Chapter 9
“One more dub for the background vocals and this one will be done!” The speaker gave a soft click when Alan released the ‘Talk’ button in the control room. “Damn, son,” Alan said to Mark, “I never would have seen this coming. A forty or fifty year old minor hit. Huh. These girls are on fire! Let's make a knock-list for all the songs before we leave tonight. We should be able to wrap this album up in a week or so.”
Mark gave a thumbs. “Have you made a choice for the first release?”
“I love ‘Get Outta my Way,’ but I'm thinking we should throw a little blood in the water first; probably ‘His Eyes.’ That'll get the girls out there as country girls – you know, we do a video with farm-girl costumes, or maybe an Antebellum theme with hoop-skirts – then we release ‘Get Outta My Way’ with a more contemporary look. What do you think?”
“I'm digging this one, Alan. I'm glad they didn't tell me what the song was at first, because I would have shot it down, but, now, I really like it.”
Alan shrugged. “I do, too, but releasing a cover too early can destroy a band’s credibility.”
Mark shrugged and smiled, “It’s a kickass song, though. A kickass song.”
Chapter 10
“That's it, ladies, the album is in the can!” Alan announced with a great deal of flourish and theatrical flare. It had been six, nitpicking days since they recorded ‘One Less Set of Footsteps’ and everyone was running on pure adrenaline at this point. “Tomorrow, 11:00am, photo shoot for the cover and promos and then our traditional celebration dinner at 7:00 at Antonio’s!”
They all applauded.
“Enjoy your last few days of anonymity, girls, because a month from now, everyone's going to know your names and faces!” Alan said as he escorted them towards the front door of the building.
Their driver was standing and waiting.
“Willy!” Chris hollered, “we’re done! The album’s done!” He yelled as he hustled over to give Willy a hug.
“That's not what I heart, darlin’” Willy returned the hug. He'd started to feel like Chris was his own daughter by now. He loved Chris’ enthusiasm. “I hear that you're just getting started.”
“Evenin’ Willy,” Alan smiled and patted Willy on the shoulder.
“Evenin’, Alan. How did it go?”
“Stellar, Willy, just stellar. These girls are stars, I'm telling you. Especially that one you've got. She's a sweet little thing out here, but, Lordy, she is a spitfire when she sings and plays,”
Willy laughed and gave Chris a firmer hug.
“Hey,” interjected Gina, “How come you sound so Southern all of a sudden?”
“Do I?” Alan asked. “Haha, I guess that when Willie and I get together, I fall back on how I talked when we were boys?”
“You grew up together?” Asked Margo.
“Sure did,” chuckled Willie. “Two, dirt poor, hard to manage boys, raising hell together.”
“No kidding?” Said Terry, “ and now you work for Allan?”
“Oh, no, no, no,” Alan laughed. “Willy is an entrepreneur with his fingers in lots of pies. The limo service is just one of them. As a matter of fact, Willy loaned me the money to start this company 25 years ago.”
“You’re rich?”asked Chris a bit confused.
“I'm comfortable,” Willy laughed and Alan rolled his eyes.
“Then why do you drive the limos? Can't you hire someone to do that?” asked Grace.
“I can and I do, but I had a driver call in sick a few weeks ago and I covered for him. That's when I met this remarkable little girl, right here,” he gave Chris a playful squeeze. “I was so impressed by her that I wanted to be the driver whenever you girls needed a lift.”
“Wait a minute!” Said Chris as something occurred to him. “That day I bought you lunch. You ordered a grilled-cheese sandwich. If you're so rich, why didn't you order something better?”
“Cause I wanted a grilled-cheese sandwich, but you seemed to want me to have that fillet mignon. How could I say no to a beautiful thing like you?” and they headed to the car.
As they pulled away from the building, Chris, who was sitting up front, said, “Willy, where can I buy a nice dress for tomorrow night? Something classy and grown up?”
The girls who were chatting in back, stopped and Terry said, “Chrissie, babe, it's not going to be formal. Allan said it's just a nice, restaurant. Any nice dress will do.”
“No. It's a big deal for me, not just because of the album, but because I get to throw away this hideous bra tomorrow. I want to be fitted for a pretty bra and a pretty dress. I've been a frumpy old lady too long. I want to be pretty.”
“Oh, my God, we've created a diva!” Gina joked and everyone laughed.
“Bra fitting!?!?!? Since when is Chris the girliest of all of us?” Grace joined in the gentle teasing.
“I know just the place, darlin’,” Willy said. “It's a nice shop for ladies over on the South End. If you want, I'll drop the girls off and take you there.”
“Is that ok, Chris?” Terry asked. “I was really looking forward relaxing down in the hot tub, but I'll come with you if you want.”
“I'll be fine, sis.”
“I'll join you, baby girl,” Margo said. “I could use something nice, too. I've been in sundresses, jeans and yoga pants since the second day we were here. I could stand to be a little girlier, too.”
They dropped off Gina, Grace and Terry at the hotel. Terry gave Chris a kiss on the cheek through the open car window. She leaned in and whispered into Chris’s ear, “I can't believe I'm sending my baby brother out on his own for a new dress and a bra fitting. Wait till I tell mom.”
Chris smiled and gave her an excited shrug, “I want tomorrow to be amazing! We made beautiful music together, now I want to be as beautiful as you guys.”
Terry kissed him again, “You're always beautiful, precious. You were beautiful before you ever put on a dress. I hope you know that.”
Chris smiled. Terry saw sheer joy on his face, like a high school girl going shopping for a dress for prom or homecoming. Sweet, feminine excitement. “I love you, sissy,” he said. He hadn't called her ‘sissy’ since they were very, very young.
Terry was touched and her eyes became watery. “I love you, too, Sissy,” she said and stood back so the car could pull out.
Chapter 11
Margo and Chris were escorted to a fitting area. They had already told the woman fitting them that they were fine doing this together.
“How old are you girls?” Her tag said her name was Courtney.
“I'm nineteen.”
“Seventeen.”
“Are you sisters?” Courtney asked.
“Nearly,” Margo gave a half-laugh as she said, “Chrissie’s twin sister and I have been friends for years. Her sister was too busy to come tonight, so I'm her chaperone.”
Courtney looked Margo over. The country-style, mid-thigh dress she was wearing was obviously from a discount store, but the boots were pricey. Maybe they could afford some nice lingerie, after all. She'd find out.
“What is your name, darling?”
“Margo.”
“Ok, Margo. Let's start with you so your little friend...”
“Chrissie,” Chris said when he realized she was asking his name.
“Chrissie, sees how it's done. Now, can you lower your top so that I can measure you properly?”
“Sure,” said Margo, as she lowered the elastic top of the dress and pulled her arms through, revealing her well developed chest.
“Well, that's a pretty bra,” Courtney complimented Margo as she worked with detached, professionalism and she took measurements. She took several around the cups to insure a good fit and one around the band. “You're wearing a 36D. That seems like a good choice, but I think I can show you a few styles that may flatter you even more than this bra. Although, this is a good choice, too. Nice eye for fashion, young lady.”
Margo smiled, “Thank you.”
Courtney called an assistant to bring a selection of bras for Margo.
When she turned to begin working with Chris, Courtney said, “Oh, dear. Oh, dear.” She brushed Chris’s cheek with her finger tips, “I think our little lady, here, is a bit nervous. Look how flushed she is. Don't worry, child. A woman’s first bra fitting is a rite-of-passage. I won't hurt you.”
In fact, as much as he really wanted to be properly fitted for a bra, Chris was a bit nervous about doing this, but he was flushed because he was looking at Margo. He'd seen her walk around the hotel room in a sports bra many times and he'd seen her in a fairly revealing pajama top, but he'd never seen her wearing something this intimate and beautiful. Not only did he want to touch and kiss those beautiful breasts, he wanted to look that beautiful for her. He wanted her to want to touch and kiss his breasts, too. His penis was straining in his tight, little gaff between his legs. His knees were weak. He wanted her to take him right here and right now.
Margo saw the passion in his face. She raised her eyebrows in approval and took a deep breath, raising and lowering her breasts as she did so, and she gave Chris her best, “I love you, too,” smile before Courtney’s assistant returned with a handful of bras for Margo.
“Just put them there, please, Rebecca.” She turned to Chris, “Now, young lady, would you rather that I do this in private or should your friend stay?”
Chris snapped out of his stupor and said, “Stay. Please, Margo, stay.”
Courtney just saw a cute, nervous, inexperienced, young woman who was eager for the trappings of womanhood. She thought that her jitters were adorable.
“Don't worry, sweetie. I won't hurt you. Now, lower your top.”
Suddenly, Chris thought that maybe this was a bad idea. What if she could tell. Cautiously, he lowered the top of his dress as Margo had done, revealing the prescription-bra he had been wearing since the surgery.
“Oh, honey... oh, no, no, no... a beautiful thing like you needs to be covered in beautiful things. Not that thing. Don’t worry, child. Courtney is here and she'll take care of you. When you leave today, you are going to feel like a goddess.”
Chris gave a delighted, but modest smile as Courtney went to work. As she measured his cup-size, each graze of a finger sent an electric shock through his body, directly to his groin. He was both horrified to feel such an erotic thrill in public and titillated nearly to the point of orgasming right there.
“32B,” Courtney said to her assistant. “Same selection as the other young lady, please.”
Moments later, Chris and Margo were is separate booths trying on their bras. Each one felt more heavenly than the one before. The soft, satinlined cup held and caressed the breasts and enhanced their figures beyond anything that either of them had ever worn before.
When they emerged, Margo was wearing a softly lace, silver bra under her dress that gave her a much more natural look than she had ever pulled off before. Chris was wearing a light blue, balconette style that shaped his new assets into perky, half-orbs.
When each girl said that they'd each take all the bras they'd been shown, totaling nearly $600 per girl, Courtney was impressed.
“And you need a dress, too, darling, right?”
“Yes,” Chris smiled, a bit excited. “I don't want to look like the youngest in the room tomorrow. I want to look... well... womanly, you know. I want to be beautiful and womanly. Does that make sense?”
“I understand, baby,” Margo said, and she did understand. Chris had really come alive in the studio and even though Allan and Mark were in charge of the recording, Chris ran everything else. He worked with the girls as a colleague, coach and cheerleader. Everything worked when Chris was there and everything was difficult when he wasn't. Margo played with his hair and smiled at him.
“A well tailored suit, perhaps?” Courtney asked, pulling a power suit from the rack.
“No, I don't think so. I still want to be pretty and it's more of a celebration with business being discussed than a business meeting.”
“Ahh, perhaps this,” Courtney pulled out a little, silk, black dress with a revealing, but not slutty, neckline and was designed to reach just below mid-thigh for a manageable, but sexy glimpse of leg.
“Oh, it's beautiful,” gasped Margo. “Try it on, Chrissie, you'll look incredible.”
Chris was in awe of the dress. “Is this too much?”
“I bet you'll love it when you put it on, baby,” Margo encouraged. “Please, just try it on.”
Chris looked at Courtney, “How much is it?”
“Only $1,268.00” she said.
Chris, who was wearing a dress that he really liked, but one for which he had only paid $18 at Old Navy, said, “Twelve-hundred dollars!? I don't think my mom paid that much for her wedding dress!!”
“Probably not, babe,” said Margo, pushing Chris to a booth to try on the dress, “but your mother never signed a record contract that could make her millions AND your mom was never as hot as you are.” She pushed Chris in and closed the door behind him. “Don't come out till you have that dress on!” She fake-scolded through the door.
When he came back out, the dress hung on him as if he'd been sewn into it. The top hugged his breasts and showed the cleavage created by his new breasts and new bra, then enhanced his narrow waist and butt to look even more feminine.
Margo’s hand flew to her chest and she looked about to cry, “Oh, my God, you're gorgeous!”
Courtney was not done. She offered Chris a pair of pointy-toed, black shoes with a three inch heel and helped him put them on. Then she gathered his hair and neatly twisted and piled it on his head. “If I could make a suggestion, if you were to wear your hair up, you could pull off a kind of an Audrey Hepburn look, don't you think, Miss Margo?”
All Margo could think about right now, though, was getting her sweet, beautiful, feminine boyfriend home so she could put him in a nightie and show him what it's like to be a woman in bed.
Chapter 12
When the elevator doors opened, Grace was standing and waiting for the car. Chris and Margo pulled themselves apart. Their lipstick was just a bit smeared, but it was the guilty looks on their faces that made Gracie giggle.
“Oh, hi, girls,” she said.
Margo looked at Grace’s nice outfit and said, “Are you going out?”
“Yep. Rick, that cute techie who set up the microphones all week, he asked me to go to a movie,” her eyebrows played around her forehead with excitement.
“Cool. Have a great time.” Margo said as she and Chris exited the elevator car and Grace moved in.
As the doors closed, Grace stopped them with her hand and called, “Oh, Terry and Gina just went down to the hot tub about five minutes ago. We had dinner in the restaurant downstairs and it took quite a while. Anyway, they'll probably be downstairs for at least a couple of hours, so, you have the place to yourselves.” She gave a knowing smile and let the doors close.
The moment they entered the suite, they were in each other's arms, kissing and tonguing and groping each other passionately. As Margo tried to unzip Chris’s dress, he brushed her hands aside and deftly pulled down the zipper on the back of hers, allowing her dress to fall to the ground.
With a clear shot at her chest, Chris began kissing the base of Margo’s neck and began working his way down to her breasts, reveling in the soft, smooth, perfumed skin of this tall, beautiful woman. He licked and kissed like a boy, or perhaps more like a girl, possessed. Every touch got him more revved up.
“Careful, baby. I can't have hickies in the morning for the photo shoot,” Margo whispered, breathlessly.
Chris was on a mission, though, and when his kisses reached the edge of Margo’s new, satin and lace bra, his tongue worked its way under the decorative edge in search of her nipple. Margo’s breathing became more shallow, causing her breasts to rise with more urgency, exciting Chris all the more.
Soon, the beautiful bra was on the floor and Chris was enthralled in kissing and caressing Margo’s exposed breasts. Her moans became more vocal as her excitement built towards an orgasm. She gently gripped one of Chris’s hands and led it to her crotch where she used his fingers to rub the moist lips of her vagina. Chris picked up on the motion and soon needed no guidance.
As her climax approached, without warning, Chris suddenly sunk to his knees, his soft, feminine dress inflating around him. Then, without a glance up at Margo, he pulled her panties to her ankles and out from under her feet.
As Margo caught her breath and prepared to warn Chris that she had no condoms , Chris raised his head and, gently but firmly, began probing her vagina with his tongue. The thrill was overwhelming for Margo and she shivered as she let out a deep, guttural moan of delight which rose in pitch and intensity until she gripped the back of Chris’s head, feeling his curled hair in her fingertips, and pulled him firmly to her groin and thrust her hips forward and back as the greatest and most intense feeling of her life swept from her vagina to her toes, and her finger tips, and the ends of each hair on her head.
The ecstasy went on for so long that she felt that she'd pass out if Chris didn't stop. So, she wrapped her hands around his cheeks and pulled him away from her. He, too, was winded and flushed from the experience.
When she'd caught her breath, she offered Chris her hands so he could stand. “Come here,” she said as she pulled his head to her shoulder. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
They embraced for a moment or two, until Chris pulled back and looked down at his legs.
“What's the matter?”
“I... I don't know.” Chris was on the verge of tears. “Oh, no... I think I wet myself.”
Margo pulled the blousy skirt of his dress aside and looked. She saw the milky fluid leaking out of his panties and giggled. “You didn't pee, baby. That's cum. You came while you were eating me.”
She ran two fingers along the inside of of Chris’s smooth, little thigh and brought a sample to her lips. She tasted it with the tip of her tongue, “mmmm,” then gently pushed her fingers into Chris’s mouth. He tasted it with a smile?
Then he said, “Eating you? I thought that was a blowjob.”
Margo laughed at his innocence, “Oh, baby girl, when a woman takes a boy in her mouth, like I did to you, that's a blowjob. When a boy gives a woman oral joy, that's called eating her out.”
Chris cringed. “That sounds disgusting. I'd rather call it a blowjob.”
“Ok, baby girl,” Margo laughed and gave him another hug, “you can call it a blowjob and anytime you want to kneel down in front of me and do that again, you are most welcome. I will take a blowjob from you, anytime.”
“How about right now?” And, once again, Chris’s soft, feminine dress inflated as he dropped to his knees.
Chapter 13
“Ok, ladies, jump into a chair and let Jeanine and her crew get to work on you. We’ve got a lot to do and only a few hours in which to do it!” Ellen called out as they climbed out of the town car. There was a large tent set up as a makeup studio/dressing room for the photo-shoot on at charming farm, about an hour outside of Nashville.
Since that first day in Nashville, Chris had kept as much space between him and Ellen as possible, but now that the actual recording was done, Chris knew that he would have to see more of her and he dreaded it.
Chris took the center chair with Gina and Grace on his right and Terry and Margo on his left. They had met Jeanine in passing earlier in the week and they knew that she was their stylist, but they were all nervous about how they would be presented on the album cover and in the videos.
Ellen and Jeanine started at the far right and walked along looking at the girls as if they were products. Terry and Margo, in particular, didn’t care for this attitude.
“Well, you’re all pretty enough, I guess,” said Jeanine as she returned to Chris’s chair. “And this is our little superstar, huh?”
Before Chris could answer, Ellen spoke. It was obvious that this was a corporate conversation. “That’s her. Allan is very taken with her. You need to make her ‘pop’ off the cover and out of the video. What do you think?”
“Well, like I said, pretty enough, but it doesn’t help that there’s a prettier clone of her in the next chair...”
“Hey!” Shouted Terry, Margo, Gina and Grace in unison. Chris was just getting used to being called ‘pretty’ let alone being evaluated in this manner.
Jeanine continued without acknowledging that anyone had spoken, “but I think we can make her into a wet-dream for you.”
“Hey!” the girls yelled again, this time joined by Chris.
“Oh, relax, children,” Ellen said with complete dismissal, “and let Jeanine do her magic.”
Jeanine and her assistants went to work washing the girls’ hair, setting it in curlers and placing them under dryers. While their hair was drying, their nails were done and dresses were hung nearby.
“Hey!” Margo shouted too loudly from under the dryer, “We brought clothes for the shoot!”
No one acknowledged her.
“Hey, flunky,” Terry called out in support of Margo, “are you deaf?”
Again, nothing. They looked at each other and gave frustrated shrugs.
An hour later Jeanine and her assistants walked out to leave the girls looking into a row of full-length mirrors. What looked back at them was not what they expected. Each one looked either like a trashy Halloween prostitute or like a Lolita.
“Well,” said Grace, who, like Chris, wore a ludicrously frilly, country-girl dress, “I think I have more product in my hair right now than my mother uses in a month at the salon.”
“No kidding,” said Gina, who looked as if she’d just finished a shift as a cheap prostitute. “This is really not cool. I wanted to wear some nice jeans and a cute top. This is bull shit. I look like a 49 year old whore.”
“Do you suppose their doing this on purpose?” Asked Terry.
“Why would they do that?” Margo asked.
“I don’t know,” Terry thought out load. “I mean, Ellen kind of hates us, I think, and she didn’t seem to love Allan, either. You think, maybe, she’s trying to derail us?”
“Well, she sure doesn’t seem to give a shit about us,” said Gina.
“I look like a 13 year old child made up like by a drunk for trick-ortreating, ” Chris said. His eyes were watering a bit, and his nose was a little red, but he was more angry than insulted.
“I’m not doing this,” he said to the others. “I know how the musicians I respect dress and I’m wearing what I want to wear.”
“Maybe we should call Allan,” Grace tried to get a handle on the situation.
“No, we need to be in charge,” Chris said. “We can’t be little girls to these people. We impressed Evan back in New Jersey and that got us here. We impressed Mr Bennett and Mark and they think we have what it takes. So, I’m not going to let these talentless idiots mess it all up on us.”
“Holy shit!” Gina said. “Look at the balls on this one!”
Chris shook his head, “Look at the boobs. I never had this kind of confidence as a guy, but you all make me stronger and more confident. What do you think? Revolution in the makeup room?”
“Let’s do it!” said Terry as she started unzipping the side of her dress.
Margo gave Chris a big hug. “You are amazing, baby. I love you,” and she planted a deep kiss on his lips. “But, yuck, that lipstick is greasy!”
“Are you ready, girls?” Ellen called from outside of the tent.
The door-flap swung open and out stepped five beautiful young women dressed in moderately priced, pretty, country-style clothes – Margo and Gina in tight, faded jeans with sexy tops and the others in short dresses and cowgirl boots. Their makeup was casual and very “girl next door” and their hair was all brushed out and natural looking.
“What the fuck have you done!?” screamed Ellen. “Get your asses back in there and I’ll call Jeanine back...”
“How about I call Allan, instead?” Said Terry. “Allan knows who we are and how we plan to present ourselves. You want him involved?”
“You know what?” Ellen said with a venomous look to each of them. “You spoilt little bitches just shot yourselves in the feet. Go ahead and call Allan if you want, but I am cancelling this photo shoot and, no matter what, that will delay your release. You’ll miss getting your first single out before Memorial Day and it will be SOL for Runny Nose, or Rusty Hose, or whatever you call this gang of losers.”
Just as Ellen finished her speech, a good looking man in his mid-forties appeared. “All set to go?”
Ellen stood straighter and folded her arms in an attempt to look authoritative. “Sorry, Paul, but we’ll have to cancel for today.” Her delivery was staccato and over pronounced, as if she were a grade school teacher scolding students. “They’ve chosen to look like farm rats rather than Nashville stars.”
Paul looked gave the band a quick and appraising glance, “Nonsense. They look perfect. Let’s go, girls,” and he turned and walked away.
As they all followed, Terry took up the end of the line, but stopped to speak to Ellen before leaving. “Oh, I will be talking to Allan about this, ‘ma'am’ and, believe me, you will be hearing about it.”
Ellen scoffed, “Don’t get cocky, honey... oh, wait, that’s right... you had your cock removed when you were a baby, but your freaky little brother in that pretty little dress still has his, I bet. If you think you can keep me quiet about that, then you’ve...”
Terry squared off in Ellen’s face. “Are you threatening me, lady? ‘Cause if you are, you might want to think twice about going after a Jersey girl. I’ve put up with jackasses like you my whole life and I am sick to death of it. If you come after me or my little sister, you better be ready to take the consequences because I don’t give a shit about what happens to you, but I’m going to protect my ‘freaky little brother in that pretty little dress’ until the day I die. Understand?”
Ellen scoffed, again, “We’ll see. We’ll see.”
“Well. I can’t fire her, she’d just run to the press,” Allan’s voice came out of the phone’s speaker as Terry and Margo, listened, “but I’ll keep her away from you guys, ok?”
“Thanks, Allan,” they both said.
“After all that, how’s the shoot going?”
“Pretty good,” Margo said. “He did a ton of group shots and now he’s doing each of us individually.”
“Margo and I went first so we could call you. Thanks for your help, Allan?”
“No problem, girls. Is my little money-maker ok with all of this.”
“He didn’t hear any of it,” said Terry, “it was just Ellen and me.”
“Ok, good, but Terry...”
“Yes?”
“You have got to stick with ‘she’ when talking about Chris. Please! We already have one person to deal with. We can’t make another mistake.”
“I know, Allan, I know. I’m sorry.”
“Ok. Relax and I’ll see you tonight.”
Chapter 14
Willy was waiting in the hotel lobby when Chris stepped from the elevator wearing his new outfit. From the skin out, he was wearing black, lacy panties, a matching, balconette bra and a matching garter belt that hugged his hips and acted as a waist-cinched as well. The garters were connected to very sheer, black, silk stockings which covered and caressed his legs and feet – which were snug in pointed, three inch heals. The black, silk dress was low cut, but not too revealing. It was sleeveless and had a gentle flare from its high waist to its hem which sat just above Chris’s knee.
Earlier in the day, Chris had gone to the hotel’s salon to have his hair done. It was parted naturally in the center, hung beside his head, then pulled gently to the back of his head and held in place by two, pearl covered hair clips before falling in beautiful, relaxed curls to the middle of his back.
Pearl earrings, a pearl choker and a little, black clutch-purse with a pearl on its closure rounded off his ensemble.
“Oh, my, oh, my,” Willy said. “Look who’s all grown up, tonight! What happened to my pretty little girl-friend?”
Chris smiled, both flattered and embarrassed, “Is it too much, Willy?”
“Are you kidding?” Willy teased. “You’d look great at a royal ball or a baseball game dressed like that! Lord, my heart is racing!”
Chris laughed and gave Willy a hug. “Have the others already left?” Chris asked.
“They just pulled out. My son is driving them, tonight. Your sister said that you wanted to come a little later, is that right?”
“Yes. Can we have an iced tea before going. I need to talk to you for a few minutes.”
“Well, sure,” Willy said as he offered his arm and guided Chris to the tables outside of the lobby bar.
When he returned from the bar with two iced teas, Willy looked to Chris expectantly.
Chris dove in, “Ok, so, you know I’m the youngest in the band, right?” Willy nodded. “Well, Terry is only a few minutes older than me, but, since I was always sick and she’s brilliant, she was in college and I was still a junior in high school when we left home. Anyway, I love that they all treat me like their little sister, but it kind of carries over to how Mr Bennett and everyone at the record company treats me, too.”
“In the studio, though, I kind of feel like I’m in charge, you know, like the others look to me to be the leader. The problem is that I’m afraid that I’m going to be left out of the career-planning aspects of the process because they view me as a silly, little girl. That’s why I wanted to look more grown up, tonight. So, do I look stupid – you know – like a little girl playing dress up, or do I look like someone who knows what she’s talking about?”
“Well,” Willy stuttered on a reply, “you... you look like a beautiful, confident woman. Wise and talented and ready to discuss her future. If I can give you a little advice, I’d suggest that you walk a little slower, let everyone take you in as you enter, exit or walk about the room, and when you sit, sit on the edge of your seat and keep your back straight. Cross your legs at the knees and slant them with your feet slightly to the side – kind of like that lady over there.”
Chris looked over his right shoulder and saw the beautiful woman Willy had indicated. She was sitting alone near the wall, but was obviously aware of her impact on the area. Chris tried to imitate the pose the woman had assumed, but was falling short, when he said to Willy, “Just wait here for me and I’ll be right back.”
Willy watched as Chris walked to the woman. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but as Willy watched, the woman offered a limp, glove covered hand to Chris as a feminine hand shake. Chris spoke for a few moments before the woman laughed and nodded, offering Chris a seat. Willy watched as the woman walked Chris through a complete tutorial of presenting himself as a confident, feminine woman at a party.
After fifteen minutes, Chris and the woman walked slowly and with a sultry sway back to Willy. “I understand that you are my young friend’s chaperone for the evening?” She said with a smile and a southern twang that screamed of old, Tennessee money.
“I’m just Cinderella’s coach-driver, ma'am.”
She beamed, proud to have been asked to help the young woman. “Well, I guess that makes me her fairy godmother, then. I think she’s ready for her party.”
She passed Chris’s hand to Willy and gave Chris an air-kiss near his cheek. “Call me tomorrow, sugar, and tell me how it went. Now, go be a smash at your party.”
She took one last look at Chris and said to Willy, “My goodness, can you believe she’s this beautiful at only seventeen!? I bet she takes over the world by the time she’s twenty-one.”
“I believe she will, ma'am” Willy chuckled. “I believe she will.”
Chapter 15
Willy pulled his car to a stop in front of the elaborate restaurant, handed the keys to the valet, who was opening Chris’s door, offered Chris an arm and escorted him into the front door.
“You’re joining us, tonight?” Chris asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, little girl... oops... I mean, strong, confident woman.” Chris smiled at the teasing and as they approached the door to the function room, Willy stopped, turned to face Chris and said, “Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Here we go. Stand straight, walk slowly, let everyone admire you, and place one foot in front of the other. Acknowledge everyone, but don’t pander. Be strong. Be gracious. Be gorgeous, which you can’t help but being, and above all, be you.”
Then he gave Chris a strong, paternal hug and a soft kiss on the cheek. “Here we go.”
The door opened and in they went. There were a lot more people than Chris expected. He looked around for familiar faces, when he let out a little gasp, Willy leaned in and asked what was wrong. “That woman over by the bar, that’s Hillary Scott from Lady Antebellum. Why is she here?”
Willy nodded, “She’s here to celebrate your album, sweetheart. That’s why everyone is here. Look, there’s LeAnn Rimes and Kelly Pickler. Over there is Trisha Yearwood, so I would expect that Garth Brooks is around someplace. They’re all here because Allan invited them and, if Allan invites you, you usually show up. This is all for you.”
“Oh my goodness,” Chris recognized Allan’s voice from the head table. He looked in that direction to see Allan rushing towards them with a huge smile on his face. “What happened to my sweet country girl? Who is the gorgeous, grown up woman!?” He pulled Chris into a hug, kissed him on the cheek and turned to the crowd and asked for their attention – it got quiet quickly.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve already met the backbone of Dusty Rose, the beautiful Margo, Gina, Grace and Terry, but now, I want you to meet the heart of this amazing new band. I had expected to introduce you to the amazing little girl that I have been working to death for the past month, but instead, I seem to be introducing a beautiful woman. Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce a woman who will, very soon, be taking her place with you all as Nashville royalty, Christie Walters, the lead singer of Dusty Rose!”
Everyone applauded. Part of Chris loved this, but part felt like crawling under a table. Luckily, there was a third part that remembered everything that his recent tutor had taught him. He smiled appreciatively and gave a small, but confident, wave to everyone and nodded his head in appreciation.
“Let’s get them all together for a photo,” Allan shouted as the others bounded to Chris.
They all spoke to him at once, “Do you believe this? I love your hair and dress! Did you see Kenny Chesney over there? You’re gorgeous! I heard that Dolly Parton is coming later; Kenny Rogers, too! I which I’d dressed a little better. You’ll never guess who’s here. Etc.”
They took a picture, but Allan wanted more. “John! John Holden, jump in here!”
Chris was shocked to see John Holden, the young man that had performed before them at the student union a few months ago. It was obvious that the girls had already seen him, but Chris was a little confused as to why John was there.
John joined them and turned to Chris, “Surprised?”
“Yes,” Chris said. “Did you get a contract?”
“Sure did. Same night as you girls. My album will be done in a week or so, but they’ve decided to market us kind of simultaneously. Seems that I am going to be your boyfriend in your videos and you’ll be my girlfriend in mine.”
‘Boyfriend!’ Well. That had never really occurred to Chris before. “Oh, cool... that’s... yeah... cool.”
More pictures.
“Ok, just a couple more before we settle down to some good food. Brenda! Brenda, are you handy?”
As John gave Chris a parting kiss, this one much too close to his lips for his comfort, he heard Allan say, “Right there. between your daughters, please.”
Chris’s head swung to his left to see his mother being ushered to them by Allan.
“Mom!” Chris shouted and reached out to embrace her. “I didn’t know you’d be here!”
She hugged her little, beautiful son and said, “Oh, baby, I would not have missed this for the world.”
She pushed Chris away from her and looked him up and down. “My God, look at you. What happened to my shy little boy? That dress is incredible and pearls! I don’t even own pearls that lovely. How much did you spend on all of this?”
Chris loved that his mom was so concerned about the money. His huge smile got wider. “Way too much, mommy, but I needed to do it for tonight. I missed you so much, mom. Thank you for coming.”
They hugged again.
“Ok, ladies, just the Walters girls for a moment.”
Another picture.
“Great and now all the parents.”
More group pictures and family portraits. Then introduction after introduction before the restauranteur announced that the buffet was ready.
The Dusty Rose girls were told to sit at the head table and they’d be served. As people went to the buffet, they all stopped by the head table to congratulate the band.
During a minute of privacy, Terry leaned to whisper to Chris, “Well, little sister, you sure surprised me! I can’t believe you pulled off that look all by yourself.”
“Not by myself, sissy. I paid a lot of very skilled woman. Do I look ok?”
“No, you do not look ok. You look amazing! I hope you can sing and play in that get up, though. They brought our gear over. Evidently, we’re playing, later.”
“No! In front of all these people? Seriously!? Well, no pressure, huh!?”
Just as that sentence came out of his mouth, someone tapped a microphone on the bandstand and said, “Excuse me, everyone. We’d like to start this evening’s entertainment.”
Margo said what they were all thinking, “Holy shit, that’s Garth Brooks!”
A band moved in behind Garth and picked up their instruments.
“So,” Garth continued, “to kick things off, I’d like to call up my favorite singer... my beautiful wife and mother of my children... ladies and gentlemen, Trisha Yearwood!”
Everyone applauded politely as Ms Yearwood took the mic away from her husband with a smile and a kiss. Gina let out a huge, arena concert “whooo!” which was much louder than the rest of the room. Terry shh-ed Gina, but Trisha acknowledge her with a smile. “Congratulations on your first album, girls. I hope this is just the first of many!”
The band started playing “How Can I live Without You” and there was more applause.
Suddenly, Garth Brooks was behind Chris with his hands on his chair. “May I have this dance?”
Chris hesitated. He had no idea how to dance or how to respond.
“Oh, my God, sissy,” Terry said. “Go dance! It’s Garth Brooks!”
Garth Brooks escorted Chris to the dance floor to some applause. Other Nashville notables came up to bring the rest of the band to the dance floor too.
Chris was nervous that he was this close to Garth Brooks, and dancing! He hadn’t practiced this. Where did a girl put her hands? How did girls do this?
Garth saw his inexperience and took Chris’s hands to place them correctly, left hand on Garth’s shoulder and right hand in Garth’s left. Then he placed his right hand in the small of Chris’s back and began to lead him around the dance floor with experienced confidence.
“I know how it is, Chrissie,” he said. “Always on the bandstand and never on the dance floor, am I right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Chris was almost in sense-overload. Garth Brooks was so much bigger than him. He felt small and so much more girlish than he expected to. He could get used to this.
Everyone performed a song or two: Trisha Yearwood was followed by Kenny Chesney, was followed by Luke Bryan, was followed by LeAnn Rimes, was followed by Kenny Rogers, etc., till Garth Brooks closed out all the guest artists.
Allan came over to the head table, “Ok, girls, this is it! Go on up and show them what you can do! Now, just play two songs, ‘His Eyes’ and ‘Get Outta My Way,’ take a bow and call it a night, ok?”
The girls nodded and headed to the stage, but Chris stopped to talk, “Mr Bennett, shouldn’t you have told us about this before tonight?”
“Nope, but Ellen should have, but I imagine that, after your sister threatened to have her rubbed-out by Jersey mobsters, that probably slipped her mind.”
Chris didn’t understand what he meant, but Allan went on, “Chris, this is important. We WANT these people to WANT you to open for them. Now, you and I both know that you can do this performance with your eyes closed, so just be a good girl and go up there and play, please.”
Chris nodded. “It’s just... well, I’m kind of overdressed...”
“Chris, you could not be more beautiful than you are right now. So, just go play those two songs and make them want you to work with them.”
“Don’t you guys have some say in who opens for who? I mean if you say we’re opening, doesn’t that pretty much mean we’re opening?”
“Yes, but I want more. I want them to include you girls in local interviews, invite you back on stage during their sets, I want them to not just respect you, I want them to WANT you onstage with them to make them sound better. Ok?” and he gave Chris a kiss on the cheek and a soft swat on the butt.
Chris let out a surprised, “Hey,” smiled at Allan and walked slowly and confidently to the bandstand.
When he reached the microphone he looked to Terry who said, “Ok, ‘His Eyes’, right?”
Chris shrugged his willingness, but then shook his head and held up a finger, as he turned to the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen...” he thought before continuing. “... we, the girls and I, well, we just cannot thank you enough for being here tonight. I mean... talk about a dream come true! We are just so... so... honored to even be in the same room with you, let alone having the honor of playing for you.”
Allan looked around at the faces in the audience. They were eating this up.
“So, before we begin, can I, first, introduce you to the girls. On drums, our very own Italian spitfire, Gina!”
There was applause.
“On bass and background vocals, the tallest and most beautiful member of the band,” Margo shot Chris a flattered smile, “Margo!”
There was applause.
“On lead guitar, mandolin, pedal steel, classical guitar and everything else, Grace!”
There was applause.
“And, finally, on rhythm guitar and background vocals, my big sister by 34 minutes and my mom’s favorite daughter, Terry!”
There was applause.
Terry came to her mic and said, “And the heart and soul of Dusty Rose, my little sister, Chrissie!”
More applause.
Terry could see that Chris was stalling, but she couldn’t imagine why. They knew the songs, they’d been playing and perfecting them for weeks. She looked to Margo, then Grace, then Gina and back to Chris. She tried to make eye contact, but he wasn’t looking at her.
Finally she nodded to Gina, who clicked her sticks, “One. Two. One, two...”
“Wait!” Chris called out. As the audience looked on expectantly, Chris held up one finger to request a moment of indulgence. Then he reached down and took off first his right shoe and then his left.
There was laughter from the audience.
He skipped a few feet to his left and placed his three inch heels to the side of the stage. He skipped back to a round of applause from the audience, to which he responded by folding his right leg behind his left and lowering himself into a deep and feminine curtsy.
When he stood straight again, he skipped to his right and grabbed a jumbo sized acoustic guitar off of a stand, then skipped back to his mic at stage center. When he pulled the guitar strap over his head, it seems hopelessly too large on him, but he took a moment to adjust the strap.
Margo looked at Gina and said, “He doesn’t play guitar on either of these. What do you think he’s doing?”
Gina shrugged.
“Umm,” Chris finally returned to the microphone, “as I was saying, this whole evening is like a dream come true. You people, well, I mean, you’re all our heroes... I’m just so surprised and so happy to be here. You know, just before we came up, Allan Bennett came over to us and he said, ‘Go on up and show them what you can do! Now, just play two songs, take a bow and call it a night.’”
The audience, who all were very familiar with Allan laughed at Chris’s attempt to impersonate him. Even Allan laughed, although he was very concerned about what was – or rather, wasn’t - happening on the stage. “Come on, Chris, just play the damned songs,” he whispered to no one.
“So, I’d really like to do that, but I have to do something else before that.”
The girls were completely confused and Allan was losing all patience. “Sing the goddamned songs, Chris, just sing they goddamned songs!” He whispered again.
“If you’ll bear with me for a moment, I’d like to point out my mom in the audience. She’s right here to my left.”
A spotlight swung to Chris and Terry’s mom who waved to the applause from the surrounding tables.
“You see, we left our mom alone when we came down here and I can’t believe she’s here tonight. I didn’t even realize how much I missed her till I saw her. I love you, mommy.”
More applause as his mom blew him a kiss.
“Our dad,” Chris continued, “well, he died about six years ago. I was in the hospital and our dad, well, he visited me and it was snowing and, well, there was this accident and we never saw him again.”
Terry looked to her mom who had tears coming down her face. ‘What the Hell is going on’ she thought. ‘This is hardly the time for family therapy.’
Chris continued, “Anyway, our dad taught us, Terry and me, to love music the way he did, and, man, did he ever love music. He would take out his guitar and play and Terry and I, well, we’d just be amazed. And he’d always end with this one song that we called ‘Daddy’s Song’ and, even though I can see Mr Bennett is losing his patience with me,” more laughter from the audience, “I’d really like to take a few minutes and play this song for my mom.”
There were gasps and ‘awws’ and tears from the audience followed by a big round of applause.
“Thank you,” said Chris, “the only problem is, we’ve never actually played this song in front of anyone before. Are we ok, girls?” he asked the band. They all nodded, so he turned to Gina, “Gina, can you count us in?”
She rolled her eyes, a bit exasperated, and tapped her sticks, “One. Two. One, two, three, four.”
They kicked into ‘One Less Set of Footsteps” with all the fire and edge they had used in the recording studio, and, after the first four bars, Chris turned to the audience and sang,
“We been runnin' away from
Somethin' we both know
We've long run out of things to say
And I think I better go
So don't be getting' excited
When you hear that slammin' door
'Cause there'll be one less set of footsteps
On your floor in the mornin'”
The song went on from there and the audience was eating it up. When they reached the bridge of the song and and Gina and Margo kicked into the syncopated rhythms that Chris had arranged for them, the crowds roared their approval. They had never expected this kind of raw power from these five young women. The groove was perfect. The guitar playing was great. The background vocals were infectious, in tune and came at surprising moments. Even though they’d all heard the song before, it was a new and stunning version that could only have been perfected by the girls of Dusty Rose.
When it was over, the audience leapt to their feet in applause and hollers! Even Allan was whistling as loudly as he could.
Then they gave a passionate performance of ‘His Eyes’ which was received with another ovation, followed by ‘Get Outta My Way’ which completely brought the house down. The applause was deafening and never seemed to wane. Eventually, they relented and played it again.
Same result.
Finally, the applause died down and there were congratulations, hugs and kisses and discussions of future performances and then it was time to leave.
As they gathered their belongings, Chris asked his mom where she was staying. It turned out that they’d put her up on the same hotel as the band, but she’d intentionally avoided seeing them so as to surprise them at the reception. So, Chris invited her to ride in Willy’s town car. She agreed, happily.
Allan had been ‘pressing the flesh’ in the lobby and, as Chris and his mom approached he turned and smiled at them. “There’s my little girl!” he shouted as he pulled Chris into a bear hug that lifted him completely off the ground. “Pretty cool day, huh?”
Chris laughed, “Pretty cool.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Hey, never, ever decide to do your own set when I’m in charge, ok.” Allan scolded while smiling.
“Ok. Sorry.”
“I know, and all’s well that ends well, I guess. So, no harm/no foul.”
They hugged again.
“Now,” Allan said, “take tomorrow off and rest. The day after that, we begin shooting video footage, just establishing stuff and inserts of you and John at first. After that, we’ll work out the music performance parts.”
He looked around and located a young red head, “Bernadette!” He called to her. She hurried to his side and handed him a large envelope, which he, in turn, handed to Chris. Here are the scripts for the first couple of videos. They’re pretty wide open so we can adjust on the fly, but it’s always good to have an outline.”
Chris took the envelope and before he knew what was happening, Allan grabbed both of Chris’s checks and pulled him into a full, on the lips, kiss!
When Chris was released, Allan shouted, “I love this kid! This kid and I are going to make history!” And he walked back into the function hall.
“What was that?” his mom laughed.
“I think he’s a little drunk,” said Chris.
“Nope,” said Willy as he joined them. “I know what he’s like when he’s drunk and that’s not it. He’s excited. He sees what we all saw, tonight. You are amazing, little lady and you need to embrace that. Oh, and good evening, Mrs. Walters. My name is Willy. I will be your driver tonight and may I congratulate you? You have raised two remarkable young women. Right this way, please.”
Willy escorted them, one on each arm, to his car. When Chris hustled towards the shotgun seat, Willy cleared his threat and indicated that Chris should sit in the back with his mom. He did.
On the way back, they talked about everything. What was happening in Nashville and what was happening in New Jersey. Chris told his mom how Willy had looked after him and Willy joined into the conversation, too, talking about how impressed he was with all the band members and what he had seen tonight.
Back at the hotel, Willy escorted them both to the elevator.
“Willy,” Mrs Walters said, “Thank you so much for taking care of my babies. I was so worried...”
Willy shook her hand and said, “My absolute pleasure, ma'am. They are wonderful girls.”
The elevator opened and Chris’s mom entered the car.
Chris hugged Willy’s chest as hard as he could. “Thank you for all of your help, tonight. Do you think I did ok?”
Willy laughed, “Do I think you did ok!? Good gravy, child, what do you need to do before you accept that you brought down the house!?”
Chris laughed and blushed.
“Let me recap for you,” Willy teased. “Your outfit was astounding, your hair and makeup was flawless, you moved like a goddess, you behaved like royalty and on stage you were on fire. Young lady, you could not have done better if you were Taylor Swift! So, will you accept my praise and get your pretty little butt into bed and get some rest!?”
Chris smiled even more broadly. “Ok, Uncle Willy. Good night,” and he stood on his tip toes to kiss Willy’s cheek.
“Good night, angel,” Willy said as he returned the kiss. Then he handed Chris the envelope Allan had given him, “Don’t forget this. Now, sleep late tomorrow.”
Chris entered the elevator and his mom wrapped her arm around his shoulder. They both waved to Willy as the door closed.
“You have an interesting relationship with you chauffeur, don’t you think?”
Chris rolled his eyes. He’d been independent for a month and he had to smile at his mom being just like, well, his mom. “Willy’s not my chauffeur, mom. He’s my mentor. My teacher. He’s amazing and he takes care of me.”
Mom laughed, “Ok, honey. If you say so.”
When they reached Chris’s floor, they got off and went to the suite. His mom wanted to say goodnight to everyone and congratulate them on the evening. The girls were still dressed and still wound up. No one was wearing shoes, though, and, as Chris entered, he steadied himself on his mom and removed his as well.
“Well, look who’s here,” said Gina, “the Princess Bride herself.”
Everyone laughed and Chris, disregarding the $1,500+ of clothing, lingerie and jewelry he was wearing, plopped himself down onto the couch between Gina and Margo. Margo threw her arm around him and pulled him in for a warm hug, “You. You. You... you are amazing, you know that?” and she planted a kiss firmly on his lips.
Terry went to her mom and hugged her, “Thanks for coming, mommy. I wish you could stay.”
“Me, too, honey, but I have to get back for work. I’ll stop by to say goodbye before I leave tomorrow afternoon.”
“I love you, mom.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart and you have done a great job with your brother.”
“Sister, well, sissy, I guess.” They both laughed at the double meaning of the nickname.
“Chris,” Grace said, perusing the script for the videos that had been in the envelope, “have you looked at this?”
Chris shook his head. “No. Why?”
Grace threw it to him, “It’s pretty hot. Looks like you have to make out with John Holden... a lot.”
“Ooh!!!” Came the teasing from the girls, including Chris’s mom.
“Holy cow!” Chris whispered as he read the pages.
To Be Continued...
Comments
And there he appears..
Willy the "much more than chauffeur" is one of my favourite "good guys".
For some reason, my mind has always cast Morgan Freeman playing him. I can just hear the dialogue.
Perfect.
I love the number of my own musical heroes who appeared at Alan's party. Literally Country Music's royalty.
Lucy xx
"Lately it occurs to me..
what a long strange trip its been."