Chapter 6

The next week, Brianna was once again at her desk, this time researching a project Jon was interested in and needed more information on, when her phone rang. She glanced at the display, but didn’t recognize the number. “Bon Jovi Management, Brianna Prentiss speaking.”

“Wow. Very professional darlin’, I’m impressed.”

Brianna’s heart sped up at the whiskey smooth voice. Even though she thought she was prepared, the unexpectedness of hearing him sent a spurt of adrenaline through her and brought the fangirl to the surface. With an effort, she forced her down, letting the professional take control. “Hello Mr. Sambora. How are you?”

“Just fine darlin’ and it’s Richie. How are you?”

“I’m fine thank you.” Her mind scrambled to come up with a reason for him to be calling her. “Are you looking for Jon?”

“Naw. He’s all in ‘work mode’ and he’s no fun to talk to when he’s like that. Plus he can’t – or won’t – help me. I’m betting you can though.” He let his voice deepen. “You’ll help a poor helpless guy out, won’t you?”

“What do you need?” Brianna asked warily. She had never met the man, but she’d heard enough in interviews – and from Denise - to be careful. God only knew what he might want.

“I’m flying into New York on Thursday – but you know that since I’m meeting with Jon.”

She did. They were going to listen to the mastered new album and make sure it was as good as they could make it. “Yes.”

“And my assistant is away – but you know that too don’t you. I understand you had lunch together last week.” He was fishing a little, hoping to find out what the girls had talked about - specifically. He’d bet his paycheque for the next tour that they were already comparing notes about him and his bandmates.

“Yes.”

Hmmm...loyal and discreet. Good. “Well, I need a ride from the airport to Red Bank. Jon won’t pick me up and Denise isn’t here to arrange it for me. I don’t want to take a cab. Last time I almost got killed. New York cab drivers are crazy!” A note of pleading entered his voice. “What do you say darlin’? Can you help a guy out?”

Armed with the knowledge she’d gained at lunch, she decided to start as she meant to continue, and with him and his cohorts that meant not letting them get the best of her. “Sure Richie, I can do that......but it’ll cost you.”

There was silence for a few seconds. “How much?”

“Oh, not money. Something more....personal.” Her voice was a low purr.

“Uh....like what?” Now it was his tone that was wary.

“Well, I hear you give really good hugs.” She grinned.

“Oh. Sure. You got it. One bear hug coming up as soon as I see you.”

“What’s the matter Richie you sound a little...relieved.” Brianna fought against laughter.

“Minx. So that’s the way it’s going to be is it?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh uh.” He snorted. “Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it, deal me in. Game on. See you later darlin’.”

“Bye Richie.” Brianna hung up the phone and grinned. This is what she’d been looking for....a job she found challenging and fun people to work with.

The next day she was once again immersed in articles on the internet when she was brought back to an awareness of her surroundings by the ringing of her phone. Another unknown number. “Bon Jovi Management, Brianna Prentiss speaking.”

“Yes, Ms. Prentiss this is J.P. Stevens from Moon Junction Music.” A high pitched nasal voice identified themself.

“Yes? How can I help you?” Brianna wasn’t sure if it was a man or a woman.

“Well, you can start by telling me where Mr. Bon Jovi is!”

“I beg your pardon?” She glanced at the schedule, but it was clear. Jon was at home.

“He was supposed to be here half an hour ago for the Only Make Believe benefit.”

Brianna’s eyes widened and she flipped through the invitations she had on file, both since she started and those that Natalie had left for her. “I’m sorry, I’m not aware of your event.”

“What! Oh no! What am I supposed to tell the children?”

“When did you send an invitation to Mr. Bon Jovi?”

“I talked to you about this three and a half weeks ago! You promised he would be here!”

“I’m sorry, I just started two weeks ago and there was nothing passed on to me about this. Could you tell me a bit about your event?” Brianna stalled for time, turned to her computer and opened her search engine.

“We bring interactive theatre to disabled children. We use costumes, props, music and mime to inspire the kids to use their imaginations. I was promised that Mr. Bon Jovi would be here to perform!  The children will be so disappointed!”

“I apologize again.” There was no show on today’s calendar on the Only Make Believe site, nor was there a J.P. Stevens listed as either a director, employee or contributor......but one David Bryan was. Joker, I’m onto you! “I’m afraid that obviously, Mr. Bon Jovi won’t be able to make it. As I understand it, David Bryan was supposed to fill in for him. Something must have come up, but I’m sure he’ll make it up to you.”

“Yeah? How?”

“I believe that he’s currently writing a new play for Only Make Believe. That’s probably what’s held him up. You know these musicians. They get lost in the music and everything around them just disappears. I think I also heard something about a $100,000 donation he was planning to make for new props and costumes.”

Sputtering at the other end of the phone had her smiling. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“Brat!” David spoke in his normal voice. “Nice to know that you’ll throw me under the bus to cover your own ass – or Jon’s.”

She laughed. “Yeah....pretty much. Nice of you to try to give me a heart attack my second week on the job Mr. Bryan. Did I pass your test?”

“Mmm. It’s David. How did you know it was me anyway?”

“What can I say? I’m good at what I do...and I never reveal my sources.”

“Uh huh. Rich told me what you did to him, so I had to give it a shot. Welcome to the family Brianna.”

“Thanks David.”

“You know, of course, this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

She was still chuckling when she hung up and a thought struck. Picking up her landline, she called Evelyn. “Hi. Do you know how Richie and David would get my cell phone number?”

“Oh, a notice was sent to the band members and the management team announcing your arrival. They probably got it from that.” Evelyn tried to sound sympathetic, but failed miserably. “Are they giving you a hard time?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Brianna assured her. She would never admit to anyone that she was loving every minute of it.