Eighth Chapter

Jon can see Tate is troubled by the ring on his finger.  He can see that she's troubled by what it represents, so he tries to set her mind at ease.  "My marriage is just a legality now, I haven't been in the mind set to put an end to it, but it is over."

"I'm sorry to hear that Jon." She looks away, not wanting him to see her embarrassment.  "I didn't know."

"It's not public yet.  I'm trying to keep it out of the press as long as I can."

"I can understand that, but if you're spotted with me, what will people think?  What will they say?  Might they think I'm the reason?"  Tate is thinking of the fallout that could come to her life, the career.  Here she is in a wine bar, dimly lit off the beaten path with Jon Bon Jovi.  He must be hiding her, hiding their meeting.  "Does your wife know you're here?"

"There's no reason for her to know.  It's none of her business.  This is my fundraiser, for my children; I need not tell her anything."

"What happened?  I assume you've been married for quite some time?"

"Twenty six years, four kids and she threw it all away for her yoga instructor."

"Seriously?"  Tate is blindsided by what he's just said.  "Her yoga instructor....I'm sorry Jon, that's none of my business."

"It was her or it was going to be.  I fell out of love with her quite sometime ago.  Just thought I'd go through the motions until Romeo was a little older.

Tate just sat there and stared at him.  She's in mild shock, almost crossing over to a heart attack. "Can we get back to why we're here?"  Her discomfort from learning his secret makes her uneasy and gives her the urge to bolt.

Jon reaches over and places his hand on hers, trying to convey his sincerity, "I don't care who sees me with you.  I'm not trying to hide, I chose this place for you, your privacy."  

"I appreciate that." Tate says as she slides her hand out from underneath Jon's, scooting back in her chair.  She tucks her hair behind her ear, "Can we get down to business?" Her smile comes from a place of purity.  

Jon and Tate spend the better part of the evening and two bottles of wine working out the details of the Poly Prep fundraiser.  When they are finally finished, Tate puts her notes into her shoulder bag, feeling anxiety over what she just agreed to do.  "There's one thing we didn't work out."  Jon says to her as he hands Marco his American Express card.

"What's that?"  Tate stops fidgeting and gives Jon her attention, "What did we forget?"

"Your compensation for the project." 

She flashes a hand at him, "We can settle up when it's finished, Jon.  Have your people messenger the contract with the event plans and I'll sign and send it back."

"Are you sure?" He asks as Tate stands with her her shoulder bag and pocket book in her hands.  

"I'm sure.  We'll talk later.  I'll start to get some ideas on boards and as I get them done, I'll get them to you for approval."

"That won't be necessary.  I've seen what you're capable of and I'm impressed."

"Thank you, but I won't start buying anything until I get your say so."

"Tate..." He tries to stop her once her realizes she's getting ready to leave, she looks down at him.  "Thank you."

She smiles her heartfelt smile, "Glad I could help.  I should be thanking you for this opportunity."

Tate leaves Von, hailing a cab to get to her place in Greenwich Village.  Jon calls his car and heads home to Soho. 

When Tate arrives home, she sees the light on her answering machine flashing.  She sets her bags down, kicks off her heels and presses play as she locates her next bottle of wine.  As she's trying to pop the cork, she hears, "I had a lovely evening with you, I hope I can see you again soon."  Her smiles reaches her eyes as she's enamoured by what she's just heard and whom she's heard it from.  To herself she says, Jon Bon Jovi just left me a message telling me he enjoyed our night.  As she readies to settle in for the night, she can't help but think that he's married, and knowing that it's over, in his words, can't interfere with the Marshall remodel or the Poly Prep event.  

          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The weeks go by, slowly and at break neck speed all at the same time.  Tate often finds herself mixing the two design ideas, causing her tiny set backs.  The Marshall home is not the place for tulle, but she's somehow incorporated it into it.  With chubby chic French.  Not a good mix.  She's getting frustrated and yells for her trusty assistant, "Alex!"

He appears before her, "Yes Tate?"

"Can you do a Starbucks run, it's going to be a long night for me."

"Back in a flash." And he's gone as fast as he appeared.

Tate sits there, flipping and flopping between story boards.  It's all blending together.  She rests her head in his hands, mentally exhausted and physically spent.  She's then startled by a text alert.  She reaches for her iPhone and sees that unfamiliar number again, but she knows it's Jon.  She slides right, to read, "I need to see you.  Can you come downstairs?"  

To herself, outloud she says, tossing her hands in the air, "What the hell?  Can't he schedule an appointment, why does he just show up?"  Her hands fall at her sides as she makes her way down to the street.

Once she's on the street, in front of her apartment in the village, she looks for the back Escalade.  She doesn't  see it.  She's frightened by the figure that pops out from the doorway of the next building.

"Hi." He says in the sweetest of voices, walking towards her with something in his hand.

"What are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you?" He admits, handing her a small box.  "You haven't returned my calls."

Tate takes the box from his hand, "I've been super busy."  Raising the box she asks, "What's this?"  As she lifts the box top, she sees it's a beautiful pair of cuff links.  "Jon, these are beautiful.  I can't accept these."

Jon takes her hands in his, slowly lowering the box lid.  He's not sure if maybe he went to far, but all he wanted to do was show her that he appreciates her deciding to come aboard and help him with his fundraiser.  "They are a simple thank you Tate.  I just want you to know that I appreciate you joining my team."

She blushes slightly, "Well thank you.  They're gorgeous."  

Jon takes the box from her and as he opens it, he tells her, "They're PP, for Poly Prep with the event date inscribed on the side."

"That's so thoughtful."  She brings the box to her chest, "I'll cherish them and be sure to wear them to the event."

They stand there, both feeling a little awkward.  Tate knows that she needs to get going.  His unscheduled visit sets her mood to where she feels like she's behind schedule.  So, finally she breaks that silence, "Will there be anything else?  I really have to go.  I'm running behind."

"Can I drive you?" He asks, with a little hope in his voice.

Tate looks around and when she can't see a yellow cab in sight, she concedes, "If it's not out of your way?"

"Not at all."  Jon takes his phone from his back pocket and texts his driver that he's ready.  As the two of them wait for their chariot, he adds, "ya know, I can't get you out of my mind."

Tate looks at him, "Jon..."

"You don't need to say anything Tate, I just wanted you to know."

"I'm flattered and shocked, all at the same time."

Seventh Chapter

Tate was stuck on the word 'research'.  She can see his smile, she can hear the lightness in his voice, but she has to ask, "Research?  You researched me?"  She just about ready to go into panic mode, thinking that someone has looked into her past.  Someone may know her secrets, but here he could be wanting to work with her?  There's no way he could know all that there is to know about her and still want to work with her.

Jon reaches over and places her hand upon his, "I didn't, but my people did."

"Your people??" She tried to hide the faint hint of disgust, the hint that she's upset that he had others look into her past.  "Who are your people?"

"Relax." He pats her hand, "I had people look into your work, nothing more.  I told you I want to talk to you about a fundraiser I'm playing , and that's why I had them check you out."

"Why me?" She flatly asks.

He laughs, "Why not?"

"What's your fundraiser for, for Poly Prep?"

The hired car pulls up in front of Von.  The driver hops out and opens the curbside door for them.  Jon hops out first, Tate follows.  Jon lets her get a step ahead of him.  He glances to the left, then to the right.  To him, the coast is clear.  "Let's discuss it over a very old glass of red."  He guides her to the back of the small, dark wine bar with his hand on the small of her back.

The two of them make their way to the back corner of the dimly lit bar, passing by a few customers that have no idea who either of them are.  They take a seat at a table, across from one another.  Tate messes with her things, tucking her pocket book and work bag between her chair and the wall.  When she's done, she places her hands on the table and smiles, "Well, let's hear it.  You're playing Poly, when and why?  What do you need me to do?"

Jon's unable to answer as they are interrupted by the waiter, "Good afternoon, my name is Marco, do you know what you'd like to order or shall I bring you a wine list?"

Jon takes the lead on this one, "Give us a glass of your oldest, sweetest red.  One on ice, please."

Marco gives an understanding nod and takes his leave, to only turn around a few moments later with their glasses of wine.  As he places them on the table, Jon adds, "We're good for now Marco, should we need anything else, I'll holler for you."

"Very well."  Marco responds and leaves them to be.

"Let's hear it.  What do you need me to do?"  She's feeling a little miffed about the fact that he checked her out, spied on her. 

"It's a gala with some high profile influential people, that have deep pockets.  They're willing to throw money at what they think is an issue at the school."

"There's an issue at the school?" She questions, not really in the loop of what's going on at Poly.  "What's going on?"

Jon leans back in his chair, clasping his hands be hung his head.  "Jaxson doesn't bring the newsletter home?"

"He might, why?" 

"You don't see his school work when he brings it home?"

It's then that Tate can see Jon thinks that Jaxson is her son.  "I'm sure he brings it home to his parents."

"Jaxson, he's your son, is he not?"

She throws her head back and laughs.  "No, he's my nephew."

"Really?" he's shocked, after seeing the way she cared for and mothered the young lad.  "I'm sorry, I just assumed."

Tate can see that Jon is surprised.  "He's my older sisters son.  I look after him from time to time.  When she's running late I grab him from school or get him to soccer practice.  I enjoy our time together."

"He seems like a good kid."

"He is.  Your young one, he must look like his momma?" She states, "but we're not here to talk about Jaxson and Romeo - what do you need my help with?"

"The school needs a new swimming pool and I agreed to play a show to raise funds.  I was thinking, after looking at your previous work that maybe you'd like to design the set and the ball room."

"Ball room?  Wow, fancy."

"And it needs to be designed and put together by a professional designer.  The New York socialites have no idea how to design a themed fundraiser."

Tate pauses for a moment and thinks back over her short but amazing career.  She gives Jon a grin, "I've never designed a fundraiser.  Where will it be held?"

"At the Met."

"The museum?" She practically chokes on her words.  To play it off, she sips her glass of wine.

"Yeah.  The high and mighty wouldn't attend if it were in the school gym."

"The Met is beautiful all on its own, does it really need to be designed?" As she says those words, she's wondering if she's trying to talk him out of using her. 

"It does, because I'm picturing a Masquerade theme.  But not like the Phantom of the Opera.  a real masquerade party."

"For a school fundraiser? 

"Too much?" He asks just before he downs his first glass of wine, "Do you have a better idea?"

"I have no idea at all, not my fundraiser Jon." 

"THIS one has to be epic.  All of the previous ones were boring and too scheduled.  They weren't fun at all."

"Why the pressure for an epic fundraiser?" Tate leans back in her chair, her hand on her glass of wine, tapping the stem with her fingernail.  "Is this YOUR fundraiser?" She starts to smile.

Jon leans in, elbows on the table and he says to her, "MARCO!"

Tate jumps from being startled by the unexpected outburst.  That makes Jon laugh and it also let's him see a glimpse of Tate, vulnerable.  "Jesus Jon." 

"My glass is empty.  Are you ready for another?"

"One and done was just a ploy, wasn't it?" She winks at him.

Jon feeling very confident in the skin he's in, he can see that she's slightly enamoured, maybe she's a little intrigued and that gives him feelings he's not felt in a very long time. "Let's hammer out the details of this fundraiser and I'll take you home."

"Details?  You should have all the details all hammered out, don't you just need a theme design?"

"And everything else."  He leans back in his chair, as he sees Marco approaching.  "Marco, could you bring us something a little sweeter.  This was a tad bitter."  

Marco just nods and does as he's asked.  It was then that Tate piped up, "Everything else???"

Jon sneers at her, playfully and he likes that it makes Tate smile, "All I have is the date and the venue.  Could you help me with everything else?  I'll pay you of course."

"Are you serious?" She balks at him, seeing his arrogance in himself.  It pokes out for a second or two at at time.  "I'm in the middle of the Marshall redesign and you want me to plan an event?"  She's a little baffled.

"Jaxson will benefit from it too, Tate.  Just think of him swimming in that pool, being a member of the elite swing team out there at Poly."

She gulps her wine and looks at him with a coy little look, "Now you're not playing fair."

"I'm right."

"I'm sorry Jon, there's no way I can do that and the Marshall's. There isn't enough time in the day."

"It's not until July.  We can get started on it when you're done with Chris' place."

Tate sits there and looks at every detail of his face, she notices the mole on his cheek, the creases in his eyes.  She's seeing him up close and personal and she thinks he's just beautiful.  Then her eyes dart to the wedding ring on his finger.  "Isn't this something that you should be doing with your wife?" She nods toward the ring on his finger.  

Sixth Chapter

The day was long and very complicated for Tate.  All she wanted to do was go home, steep a cup of honeysuckle tea and lose herself in a good book or her favorite TV program.  She was closing down shop and getting ready to hail a cab when she was startled by her cell phone, alerting her that she has a text message.  She grabs it from her pocket book looking to see who it was.  A 202 number.  She has no idea who it is.  She swipes right and sees it's a video.  She's floored that it's from Jon Bon Jovi.  Her hands are shaking and she can't stop smiling.  She presses play:

"Hey there.  Sorry to contact you this way, but I was in the area and thought I'd stop by.  I'm downstairs illegally parked if you have a minute.  I'd love to talk to you about a fundraiser I'm playing at Poly Prep.  Come on down, I'll take you for a glass of wine and we'll chat."  They video ended.  Tate was stunned, shocked and even touched.  She stood there at the elevator door, unsure of what to do.  He's down there, waiting for her.  

The sun is bright, as it burns her eyes.  She's been held up in Chris Marshall's penthouse all day, paying no mind to the time of day.  The Escalade that's double parked catches her eye, so do the wailing car horns that are surrounding it.  She walks over to the car, fixed on the man that's smiling at her through the window.  "Hi!"  She says with a smile so big it almost hurts her face.

"Get in." He says, jumping out to open the back door of the Escalade.  "A quick glass of wine and then I'll get you home."  His hand brushes her back as she squeezes in between him and the SUV.  "I promise."

She almost too afraid to talk, even more afraid to refuse so she slides in, hoisting her bag onto her lap, having no idea what's going on. "Okay, one glass.  I'd love to hear about this fundraiser."

He gives her a coy little wink, "I take it you got my message?"

A giggle, "I did."

"Sorry for the intrusion like this, Tate."  He takes a serious tone, not sure if he's crossed a line.

She makes eye contact with him, but quickly looks away.  She doesn't want him to see how nervous she really is, how intimidated she is. "How did you know I was here?"

He runs around the vehicle and slides in the back seat next to her. "You were on the news for one."

"They news??"  She had no idea.  She's been so immersed in the job, she isn't even sure what day it is.  

He watches the surprise fill her face.  The innocence he sees intrigues him even more. "When Chris Marshall's walks across the street, it's news.  Kind of like having his penthouse remodeled."  Jon lays his hand on her knees, as if to tell her to hang on a minute.  He looks up at the driver, "Mark, take us to Von, please."  

"Right away."  Mark, the Arrow driver responds from behind his mirrored sunglasses, watching the two of them in the backseat. 

Giving his attention back to Tate, he looks at his watch, "It's 6:22 now, I'll have you home no later than 8.  One glass of wine, you listen to my proposition and we're out of there.  Deal?"

Tate glances up to look at the driver in the rear view mirror, unable to see his eyes, nods and says, "Down in the Bowery? There's no way I'll be home by 8, even if I left now."  She returns the wink that Jon gave her just moments before, with a smile, "but okay, one glass."  She's silently dying inside and every cell is screaming in excitement, "Just one glass, I have a long day tomorrow."  

They SUV pulls out into traffic and they are on their way to have their one glass of wine and talk fundraising.  "How's it going up there?  He can be quite difficult to deal with."  Jon starts up small talk, just as nervous as Tate is, but he's had years of practice holding his emotions in, I'm public.  

"He and his family are out of town, so it's not too bad.  I just didn't take into consideration that the space is so big and everything needs to tie into his design idea.  I have just under two weeks to finish it, so THAT is the tough part."

"Are you happy with the progression?"

She nods with a child like smile, feeling the sweat covering her palms, "I am.  We've had to make a few changes, last minute, but when it's done, it's going to be beautiful."

"No doubt.  I'm sure he'll be pleased."

Tate gives a sarcastic chuckle, "I'm more worried about Mrs. Marshall."  She let's her gaze fix on the wedding band that's on his finger, feeling her heart sink a little.  She didn't know if he was married or not.  Having kids doesn't make one married, and being a superstar doesn't make him available.  She never really gave it thought.  She had only met him just a few days ago.  She was smitten with him since that cab ride, but was certain she'd never see him again.  "I hear she can be worse than him."

"Quite the opposite.  Pam is an old soul that loves everyone and anything they do for her, regardless if they're being paid or not."  Jon tries to assure her she'll be fine.  "I've worked with her in the past and after researching you, I'm confident she'll love whatever you do in there."