He then said with obvious pride, “Yeah it is and you kick ass at it.” He looked to Deke and me. “But just sayin’, be prepared in case shit goes down. My duchess isn’t the type to let things go. So if that happens, and she blows, just hold on. It’ll happen, and unless our table is across the room when it’s over, we can just finish our steaks.”
Nina was glaring at her man. Though I noted she was just glaring, she didn’t deny anything he said.
“Consider us prepared,” I replied after swallowing another giggle, actually kind of hoping shit went down. It’d be fun to watch Max deal with it.
More fun to see how Deke would wade in.
Our waitress in black trousers, white button-up shirt, long, thin black tie and longer, crisp white apron dangling down her legs approached, asking, “Have we decided on drinks?”
We had so we ordered drinks. We got our drinks. And we gabbed.
Through this, alas, no one approached our table to cause a scene.
We ordered dinner. We gabbed more, Nina sipping her martini, me doing the same with my Jack and Coke, both men got beers, and I learned the stories about Nina and Max’s altercations at The Rooster (amongst other scenes—Nina seemed like a scene magnet, not (all) her choice).
Our appetizers came, and by then I was glad we decided to go out with Max and Nina. Firstly, because I’d seen Deke spruced up and he probably wouldn’t do that to go to Sunny and Shambles’s. Secondly, Deke got to see me spruced up, he liked it and I liked how he liked it. And lastly, I knew I liked Max, but Nina was sweet at the same time being funny as hell, sharp as a whip, and her banter that was more like loving bickering with her husband was fun to watch.
It all seemed to be going well and it wasn’t until the waitress whisked away our appetizer dishes when it seemed like things were going to turn.
This started when I was smiling at Nina as she spoke animatedly and with a great deal of love about her and Max’s children and I caught something out the side of my eye.
Before I even looked that way, I felt it like I always felt it the rare times it happened.
I knew I’d been spotted.
And when my gaze hit a table in the center of the restaurant, I saw four sets of eyes on me, with one of the women at the table’s hand falling after what appeared to be her pointing at me.
As they got my attention, the two women and one of the two men smiled at me, big and excited. And the woman who hadn’t been pointing lifting her hand for a shy wave.
I felt my muscles get tight as I tipped my head and gave them a look that I hoped communicated I appreciated that they knew who I was, were excited to see me sitting there, but it wasn’t an invitation to come to the table for a chat or to ask for an autograph or picture.
If it had just been me, I wouldn’t care. For me, it would be far worse if no one ever recognized me, and especially looked excited when they did, because it would mean they hadn’t heard my music, liked my music, and last, probably bought my music.
Even without my earnings, thanks to Granddad (and eventually when the shit with Mav and his mother was over, Dad), I’d still be in my oasis tucked in pine and aspen.
But what I earned was what I had earned and it meant a lot to me.
However, it wasn’t just me. It was me with Max, Nina…and Deke.
Max and Nina had warned us they were a magnet for drama at The Rooster (or at least it seemed Nina was, and not just at The Rooster). So they’d had practice and might be able to ride whatever wave was approaching.
But Deke had said he didn’t know how he’d handle facing the hassle that came from my fame.
I didn’t think this was a hassle. Connecting to people who connected to me through something that was a deep, emotional part of me, truth was, if it didn’t get weird, I loved it. I didn’t mind scribbling my name, smiling at someone’s phone, having them tell me I’d made their night, knowing even if I said it they wouldn’t believe that they’d made mine too.
Deke might not agree.
And we were having a great time. The food good, the company—as ever in these Colorado mountains—stellar. I didn’t want that to turn.
In other words, I didn’t want to learn that Deke, who was the mellowest man I’d ever met, would react negatively to something that might not happen every day, or even frequently, but it happened.
So after I gave them their look, I looked away, hopefully communicating that I was pleasantly occupied and would rather not be disturbed.
No one at our table seemed to notice this and I was relieved, primarily because part of that no one was Deke.
I’d rejoined the conversation and the waitress came, bringing Nina a glass of wine and me another Jack and Coke, when I felt Deke’s arm that was lying on the booth behind me, curl around me.
He pulled me into his side.
I looked up at him.
“Babe, folk at that table over there know you,” he said quietly.
Of course, Deke had noticed.
“They’re takin’ pictures, tryin’ to be cool about it,” he went on.
Shit!
“Maybe not somethin’ you wanna do but think it’d mean a lot to them, you went over, had a word before our steaks get here,” he advised.
I felt my mouth drop open.
Deke looked to my mouth then back to my eyes.
“Your call, you don’t want to,” he said.
“You’re okay with that?” I asked.
“Be more okay with that than them getting a picture of you shovin’ a huge bite of steak in your mouth, somethin’ you might not like, and that shit’s all over Twitter or whatever by morning.”