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after a nearly sleepless night
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Affair with the Rockstar After Ryan left, I listened
After Ryan left, I listened to all the voicemails and read all the texts. In fact, another eleven popped up when I turned the phone back on.Ryan’s were all super-concerned about me, and all of them were really sweet.“Hey, Kaitlyn, it’s Ryan… I’m really worried about you. Give me a call and just let me know you’re all right.”“Hey, it’s Ryan… I’m a little concerned that I haven’t heard from you. Could you give me a call or text, just to let me know everything’s okay?”“It’s Ryan. Just to give you fair warning, I got your information from Miles, and I’m dropping by your apartment in New York. I don’t want to freak you out, so I’m letting you know ahead of time. I guess I’ll see you in about eight hours. Hope this isn’t a problem for you. If it is, just leave me a message and I’ll turn around and go back.”I smiled throughout each of them.Derek, by contrast, was like listening to Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde, depending on the message. Half of them were pathetic, half of them were assholish
Affair with the Rockstar when we walked in
When we walked in, Glen was frosty to me, but immediately started doing his “I’m your biggest fan” dance with Ryan. Ryan was far friendlier than Derek had been. I mean, come on, it’s hard to get much worse than, ‘Take your tongue out of my ass, buddy.’ So in the end, we all settled into our chairs with a fair amount of goodwill and civility.The editor watched me closely, but his eyes kept glancing furtively over to Ryan.“So… you have the story?” he asked.“…no,” I said, my stomach feeling like there was a lead block inside it.I saw Glen’s hands clench together on the desk. “I see. And when do you think you’ll be able to get it to me?”I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I cleared my throat and tried again. “…it might be a long time. It might be… a really, really long time.”Glen’s face started to turn pink with anger. “I hired you specifically to – ”“I know, Glen, I know, and I feel awful about it,” I said, and I did feel awful. In fact, I felt like shit. “But… we… broke up.
Affair with the Rockstar i didn't find out
I didn’t find out Ryan had booked first class until the desk person came over the loudspeaker and announced that boarding the plane was about to begin.Ryan stood up and held out his hand to me. “Come on, that’s us.”I stared at him. “First class?! Ryan – !”“Hey, I’m a rock star,” he joked. “I have to keep up appearances.”“I’ll… I’ll pay you back. For this, and for Glen – ”“Kaitlyn, if I were in bad shape, would you give me fifty dollars?”“What?”“If I were starving, or hurt, would you give me fifty dollars? What you make in a couple of hours, say.”He was being overly generous with that ‘what you make in a couple of hours.’ That was more like what I averaged over a day.But I went with it. “Of course.”“And would you expect me to pay you back?”“No, of course not.”“Well, I basically gave you the equivalent of what I make in a couple of hours. So don’t worry about it, okay?”First: my mind was blown. That level of generosity was just staggering to me.Second: math. I was trying t
Affair with the Rockstar We flew to Chicago
We flew to Chicago’s O’Hare Airport first, then to a little place I’d never heard of called Rapid City, South Dakota. The airport was a couple of runways in the middle of a vast, green expanse. The terminal itself was small but nice. Much to my surprise, we bypassed the rental car counters and went outside where a black SUV was waiting for us.“You have a private driver?” I asked, stunned. “Here in South Dakota?”“No,” Ryan smiled. “It’s a limo company.”“Oh.” I felt a little foolish. “But if it’s a limo company, why isn’t it a limo?”“We wouldn’t want one of those. Not for where we’re going.”I understood that comment about an hour later.We left the town and drove into a national forest full of hills and thick with trees. Most of the drive I was melancholy, but the scenery was a pleasant distraction. Ryan left me to my thoughts and chatted with the driver about things like the weather and how business was doing.I checked my phone.Eleven new messages, 15 new texts, all from the sam
Affair with the Rockstar Either because of my lack
Either because of my lack of sleep the previous night, or the bottle of wine – or both – I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.But I dreamt. Constantly, vividly, nonstop.They were all about Derek.And all of them were variations on a theme.In one I was following him through a crowded street. Suddenly the street was a hotel hallway, the way that dreams shift without need to conform to reality. I walked faster, trying to catch up with him. As I came up right behind him, a door opened to his left, and a woman’s bare arms reached out and dragged him willingly into the room.As the door closed in my face, the last thing I saw was a glimpse of his eyes staring into mine – and his lips, which silently formed the words:You knew what I was when you slept with me.In another dream I was on the side of a stage, watching the band play to a giant arena.Then suddenly I was among them – Killian off to my right, Ryan to my left, and Riley behind me. But Derek wasn’t there anymore.I lo
Affair with the Rockstar The day passed quickly
The day passed quickly. After we cleaned the dishes, Ryan took me out to the barn to see the horses. I am not a horse chick, just so you know. Never even wanted a pony growing up. But I enjoyed watching Ryan with them. He was so familiar and relaxed, feeding them each a carrot as a treat. He offered to let me try it, but I was too afraid of those giant chompers taking off a couple knuckles.“Maybe we can take them out riding later,” he said as he rubbed the mane of Bessie, a sweet little chestnut mare.“Um…”“You’ve never ridden before?”“No.”“I’ll teach you. There’s nothing to it. Bessie’s gentle, it’ll be easy.”“…if you say so…”Then we left the barn and walked over to one of the other wooden structures, which turned to be a garage, just like I thought. Ryan unlocked the door on a gigantic blue Ford F-150 truck and helped me up into the oversized cab.“What the hell?” I exclaimed.“What?”“This is big enough to fit a small village in!”“I’m the local rock star,” he joked. “It’s my
Affair with the Rockstar my days and nights passed
My days and nights passed like that – reading and relaxation during the day, and wine and song at night. We dined with the MacCruders at least twice a week, but the rest of the time, Ryan cooked for us. He was really good at it, fixing everything from elaborate French dishes to a scrumptious spaghetti sauce from scratch.On the fifth day he finally convinced me to take the horses for a ride. As I stood out in the barn and watched him expertly saddle up Albert and Bessie, I was struck by something about him: his casual, non-showy masculinity. He had the whole rock star thing on tour; he had the ‘genius musician’ part in the studio and during our sessions on the front porch. But out here he was a man’s man, doing things like saddling horses and getting ready to ride into the Black Hills. Maybe somebody who’s been around horses all their life wouldn’t have been impressed, but for a chick who grew up in the suburbs of Savannah and now lived in the urban jungle of New York City, it was kin
Affair with the Rockstar i paced back and forth
I paced back and forth in the main room for almost twenty minutes, biting my thumbnail, trying to figure out what I was going to say.In the end, I just decided to keep it simple.I’m okay, I texted back. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I just don’t want to talk right now.I pressed ‘Send.’ Within sixty seconds, the barrage started.Kaitlyn, PLEASE, you HAVE to talk to me!Where are you?!Just talk to me!Why are you doing this to me?!This is the first time you’ve texted or talked to me in two weeks, and that’s all you have to say?! That you ‘don’t want to talk right now’?! You disappear on me, and that’s it?! You get total fucking say-so on what happens?!Of course, I’m cleaning up the spelling and grammar. I think he was pretty sloshed when he sent most of the texts, which rendered a good deal of them nearly unintelligible.Three hours, 157 text messages, and fifteen angry / desperate / heartbroken / drunken voicemails from Derek later, I sat down to dinner with Ryan. He had fixed chicken
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