My Life in Black & Blue

Chapter Six: Get Another Boyfriend

I was surprised when Bastian not only did call but called the very next day. He always said there was no point in playing games with women, that if he wanted to talk to someone he would, why pretend he was thinking about it when he wasn't? It was one of the things I liked best about him.

Bastian asked me to breakfast the next day, and I said yes right away, I didn't see a point in playing games either, and I wanted to see him. But, just as soon as I hung up, panic swelled inside me as I pondered the eternal question: What am I going to wear?

I rarely dressed up, the nature of my work demanded long hours for which comfy clothes were the best; but I did have some fancy stuff I would wear to showcases and award shows when I went with the band, but I had no idea how to mix it up in a way that read classy and chic at breakfast.

So I enlisted the help of Robin and – thanks to video chat – Jess.

"You're lucky it was my night off the hospital," Jess grumbled as I set up the connection. "What is this all about anyway?"

"Tess has a date for tomorrow," Robin informed my sister, they had yet to meet in person but I talked about them with each other often enough that they felt comfortable around each other almost instantly. "A hot breakfast date."

"Oh, with whom? Has Dean finally let you meet someone?" Jess asked, ever her lovely sarcastic self.

"I don't need Dean's permission to do or stop doing anything. And it's someone I already know. Knew."

"Who?"

"Bastian." I said. "Sebastian Giordano? The guy I met in Florence."

Jess whistled, "The Italian Stud?" she said. "Is he still as hot as in the pictures you showed me?"

"Way hotter." Robin answered for me.

I could hear them both drooling as I pulled out of my closet a few outfits that I thought would be appropriate. Robin and Jess were quite good at this outfit thing. I would pull out something and they were quick the maybe, the "no", the "hell no" and the "hell to the no".

"What about that white-dress you got when we went shopping for Keith's birthday. It was lovely and you haven't worn it yet."

"It's too short." I said pulling it out of the dress, a complete impulse buy and a dent in my bank account I still sometimes regretted. I had nowhere to wear it until now.

"Duh, that's the point." Jess said. "Put it on."

I did, the dress was shorter than anything I had worn since those hideous uniform shorts from the summer volunteering at the summer camp. It was a beautiful, white eyelet dress with a thin red belt for a pop of color.

"It looks lovely, Tess." Robin said. "Just as I told you in the store."

"You did mind-wrap me to get me to buy it." I said, remembering. Robin had seen the dress first and loved it but white completely washed her out so she convinced me to buy it for myself.

"Tess, that's the dress. You're going to wear it and then Fed Ex it to me because it's telling me it wants to live in my closet."

I snorted, "You wish."

Jess' mature answer was to stick out her tongue but then smiled brightly and said "Now, let's talk accessories."

-000-

The next morning I was feeling rather nervous as I stepped into Hugo's in West Hollywood. I had been here once before, when the record label that had signed Black Hawk's first album extended their contract for another two records, they had brought the band here to celebrate. Dean insisted I came too.

But today, I tried to keep Dean as far away from my mind as possible; I knew he wouldn't be happy once he found out where I was. I had only left a brief note saying:

Gone for breakfast with a friend. Call if you need me (but try not to). Love, T.

But he usually demanded a lot more information, he was worse than my parents had ever been when it came to guys and me. Still, I decided I wouldn't think of him, for now.

Bastian was already seated at a nice table, a cup of coffee in front of him, he saw me and smiled in a way that lit up his already handsome face, his eyes were warm and he made me feel beautiful in a way I hadn't felt since Florence.

"You look absolutely amazing," He said, his deep, accented voice making me shiver.

I smiled and let him kiss me lightly, "I rarely get a chance to dress up," I said, thinking how my crisp white dress, cute red clutch and peep-toe Ferragamo red pumps were a world apart from the loose jeans and nurse shoes I favored on a daily basis. I felt a world a part from the girl I was on a daily basis.

"You still know how." He said, looking at me in a way that let me know he appreciated a pretty lady when he saw one, just as he appreciated a good painting when he saw one.

"Thank you, kind sir." I said as he helped me with my chair.

We talked as a waitress brought me a cup of coffee and left the menus. Bastian was charming as usual, he even apologized for not going to pick me up all the way to Malibu – I had told him there was no point since we would just have to drive back into the city – even though he had sent a car to pick me up.

We were just talking, catching up with each other. He was telling me about all these auctions he had gone to in the last few days and about his family – whom I had gotten to know well that semester in Florence – and in general the way in which this millionaire play boy filled his days.

I let him talk, my life – for all that I lived with rock stars- wasn't nearly as interesting. I talked about Jess and my parents, and about living in L.A. Bastian looked at me and smiled, attentive as always and it was the best time I had had in ages.

And then, of course, my phone began to ring quite insistently. I put off answering it, the phone was on vibrate so it wasn't making much noise but I could see my little bag vibrating with gusto.

"I'm sorry," I said to Bastian, picking up just to get it to stop. There were 7 missed calls and 2 texts from Dean.

"Where are you?" He demanded in my ear.

"Out with a friend. As I said in my note. Do you need something?"

"Of course I need something. Do you think I call for fun?"

"What is it, then?"

"I… umm… I-I need…" He stalled and I swear I could hear him think. "I need to know if you got me some of those sheets I wanted, like the ones in your bed."

"You have been sleeping on them for a week."

"Oh, right. Just checking. Also, have you picked up the dry-cleaning?"

"They deliver it to the house. Anything else?"

"Rick wants to know if there are any baked goods in the house, he's hungry."

"Tell him to order take out." I said, loosing my patience. "Is that all, Dean? Dry cleaning, bed sheets and baked goods? Anything else?"

"Well…"

"Good! I'll talk to you later."

I hung up and just as I was putting the phone back into my bag, it began to ring again. "Excuse me just another minute." I said to Bastian and sent Dean's call to voice mail and then speed-dialed Mark.

"Owens," He said briskly into the phone.

"Mark, it's me. Take that phone away from Dean this instant." I said as the call in waiting began to chime in my ear. "If he calls me again I'm going to delete 10 days worth of the band's promotional schedule and leave you to pick up the pieces. You know I will."

Mark sighed and I could hear him moving around. "I was wondering whom he was calling so insistently." He said amused. Then there was sounds of struggle on his end and then said. "Got it."

"Make sure he doesn't hijack any of the other phones or it will be 15 days. Thank you."

I took a deep breath as I turned off the phone. "I'm very sorry about that."

"Looks like they needed you." He said.

"Oh no, that was just Dean being… Dean." I said with a sigh.

"Oh yes, I remember him." Bastian said. "Remember when I took you to Sienna to visit my family and when we got back home there were 25 emails from him in your inbox?"

"He was just worried he hadn't been able to reach me." I said off handedly.

"So, this is your life now." Bastian said, his tone was amused but in his eyes I read disappointment. "Promotional schedules and sheets and dry cleaning."

"I'm a personal assistant, yes." I said carefully. "I take care of them – Dean and the band- they need me."

"I'm sure they do, my darling, but what about you? What you want? Your dreams, you talent?"

"I still paint, sometimes. And I do take lots of photographs."

"Of Dean and his band."

"Well, yes. But their fan club love them."

"I'm sure they do," He repeated. "But this is not about other people, is about you. You have great talent, Tessa, you could do great things but you're just throwing it all away. The way you see the world, those wonderful images that come out of your mind and your brush, people should see them! They would make the world a better place."

"I'm not sure I'm as good as that."

"You are. Or your could be, if you took it seriously."

"I take it seriously." I said.

"Do you?" Bastian said sharply but then his voice gentled as he added. "I still remember the smile on my grandmother's face when I gave her that painting you made of the family villa. My grandmother, Maria Giordano, one of the foremost authorities in Italian Renascence art, she smiled when she saw your painting. That's what you should be doing, touching people's lives with your art."

"It was a long time ago." I said.

"It doesn't have to be." Bastian said. "Listen, the family is sponsoring an art show in D.C. next fall for young artists. Submissions close next month, why don't you try it?"

Why didn't I? "I don't know…"

"Just think about it, all right? And before you say it, I have nothing to do with the selection process, so if you get in it will be because of yourself. And I know you will get in."

I wish I were that sure. "I'll think about it." I said finally. "But now, what about some Chocolate cake? I hear the one here is good."

Bastian smiled, happy he had extracted a semi-promise from me. "Whatever you want."

And I guess, that in a way, that was the problem: I had no idea what I wanted.

-000-

It was three hours more before I walked back into the house. I could hear the guys playing which was good, it meant that Mark had managed to keep Dean away from the phones and actually got him to do some work.

During the ride back home – again in a town car courtesy of Bastian – I had checked my messages and was glad to notice that Mark had kept Dean under control. But still, when I walked into the house I decided to look for Mark to make sure there was nothing going on that needed my immediate attention.

The guys were playing, so I thought they wouldn't notice me as I scurried into the room, already pulling my dark hair into a high pony-tail – it had been hours since I had blow dried it and it was starting to frizz – but they did notice.

"You look hot, girl." Keith said, giving me the thumbs up.

"Why, thank you." I said with a smile. "Robin picked it up."

"My girlfriend sure has good taste." Keith said with a goofy smile.

Dean looked me up and down, and scowled. "Where did you go dressed like that?" He said, like my cute dress was indecent.

"To have breakfast with a friend."

"You never dress like that to have breakfast with us." Pouted Dan and Rick.

Before I could answer, Dean said: "You were out with that sleazy Italian guy from the club, weren't you?"

"Bastian happens to be a good friend of mine." I said and proceeded to ignore him as I asked Mark if there was anything that needed my attention.

"We are good." He said, enjoying Dean's discomfort as I swept from the room.

I paused just outside to take off my shoes and I could hear Dean ranting inside about 'Silly girls who take up with sleazy guys just because they have a foreign accent'.

"Dude, chill." Keith said.

"Yeah! No wonder Tess never puts on her hot outfits for us, with they way you carry on." Dan said.

"This is Tess we are talking about! Not some hot chick at a bar." Dean snapped.

"Tess is a hot chick." Dan offered. "Just because you never noticed –and just because we are not inclined to do anything about it because, well, it's still Tess –that doesn't mean WE and Other People don't notice."

"You guys are sick." Dean said.

Keith ended the conversation by very eloquently saying: "And you are made of stupid."

-000-

End of Chapter 7