Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Richie got off the sofa and headed to his room. Changing into shorts and feeling tired but it was too early for him to sleep. Usually he slept only 7 hours a night, so going to bed now would have him awake at 5 am. He headed into the game room to play his favorite video game. After a few minutes of getting into the game, his phone rang. Pausing the game, he looked to see who it was. 'Ugh', he said to himself. It was Denise. 'What could she possibly want?'.

"Yo! What's up?" he asked in his least interested voice. "That's how we are saying 'hi' now?" she asked. "What the fuck could you possibly want, Denise?" he asked. "I just wanted to see how things were going for you and Harley." she said. "That's sure as shit not something I'm willing to share with you." he said. "Well that's harsh, Richie?" "Harsh? You haven't seen harsh, sweetheart! I know it was you who leaked to the press about Harley and I." Richie confronted her. "What makes you think it was me?" she asked with her most innocent voice. "Because I know you, remember? That bullshit you played the other day backfired and set you off." he said. "It wasn't bullshit, Rich. I didn't know she was there. Although, I did enjoy her expression, when she saw me, naked, in front of you!" she laughed. "I didn't! I didn't appreciate any of it. I haven't told her it was you, but I'm sure it's something she's thought of herself." he said. "Again, your assuming it's me." she said, getting annoyed. "Well what the fuck ever, Denise. I think this phone call is done." he said disgusted. "Talk soon?" she asked. "Don't count on it darlin'." he told her with a level of finality and certainty in his voice. Then hung up. Richie knew how manipulative Denise could be. The last thing he needed or wanted was this woman interfering in his relationship with Harley.

Thursday morning, Richie woke at his normal time. Ava still sleeping, he took advantage of some down time before returning phone calls and beginning the days business. Grabbing his coffee and iPad, he sat outside, turned on some Jimi Hendrix and logged into his email.
Richie had an email from his publicist, marked "URGENT". When he opened it, he saw "Hey man, I've been trying to call you all night. Your lady ran into some trouble last night. Here is the couple of links I was able to find. Get ahold of me when you can to let me know what you want me to do.".
A frown instantly covered his face. Reluctantly, he clicked on the first link. The headline read "Who's Cheating Who?" and continued with "Richie Sambora is definately riding his own 'karma train' these days. Looks like he's being played by his country babe, Harley Stewart!". Richie groaned and stopped reading. Scrolling downward to see the pics. He saw a picture of Harley's hand in Brad's, looking like they were having a very intense talk. The other was them being escorted out the back door of the restaurant. Richie moved on to the next link. Reading "Harley Stewart Blindsided By Paparazzi During An Intimate Dinner With Brad Paisley! Where's Richie Sambora?". Slamming his iPad down, nearly shattering the screen, he flashed back to last nights conversation with her. Remembering her doing everything she could to distract him from they're dinner. Feeling pissed off now, because she kept something so big from him. He grabbed his phone and called her.

Harley was unable to tend to her horse today. When she tried to go outside she had camera's everywhere. She couldn't understand what the big hype was. Harley had called a friend to come tend to the barn. then called to have someone come out to give her an estimate on secured fencing for her property. Until that time a police car sat at the end of her driveway, making sure nobody approached her. Harley had begun to pack while waiting for the fence guy to complete his estimate. Harley's phone rang as she was picking out what dress to wear on Monday night. "Hey baby!" she answered happily and excited to hear from him so early in the day. Richie cut through the chase, "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked. "Why didn't I tell you what?" she asked with a sinking feeling she knew what he was talking about. "Don't play with me, Harley. What happened last night? Cause what I'm seeing, I'm fuckin not liking, at all!". Harley didn't like the tone in his voice. "Don't use that tone with me, Richie! I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to upset you." she tried to explain. "you figured me finding out the way I did would make it hurt less?" he asked. "Baby, I'm sorry. I was just trying to handle it on my own. I really didn't want you to feel like you had to protect me, like a little girl or to have a burden on your shoulders because of me. It's part of the rock star territory, right?" she asked, completely confusing Richie. "What the hell are you talking about, Harley?" he yelled at her. Harley yelled back, "What are you talking about?" she asked. "I'm talking about you fucking Brad!" he said loudly. "WHAT?" she screamed. "What the fuck makes you think I'm doing THAT?" she asked. "It's all over the place. Your dinner with him. The two of you holding hands and him escorting you out of the place. How could you do that, than talk to me like that after?" he asked her, feeling crushed to pieces. "Richie, STOP! That's not what's happening! You knew we had dinner last night. Yes, he held my hand during the lecture I got from him about putting all my eggs in one basket. Him escorting me out of the restaurant was because I was attacked by press before dinner was ever ordered. Brad had to get me out of there and when he tried to take me home, there was press all over my lawn. He had to take me to his house and took me home an hour later on the back of a fuckin horse! THAT'S what happened!" she explained. Feeling very silly and foolish, considering he had been the victim of false press more times than he cared to remember. "So your not fucking him?" he asked. "NO! I'm NOT! I don't want to! There's only one man I want! ONE! YOU are all I can think about, Richie!" she assured him. "I feel like..." he paused, but Harley broke in with, "You feel like an asshole?". "YES! Can you forgive me?" there was silence on the phone for a minute. "Harley?" making him sweat it out a bit for yelling at her. "I can forgive you. Next time I'd appreciate you discussing it with me, instead of yelling and accusing me. Fair enough?" she asked, feeling like she wasn't asking for too much. "That's fair! There's just something about you that has me completely spun and not thinking rationally." he said. "So are you ok? Have they gone away?" he asked her. "I'm ok now. I was very shook up last night, until I talked to you. They are out by the road. I have a police car sitting out there." she said. "Baby, I'm so sorry! For everything! You need to tell me when shit like this happens. It's my nature to want to protect. If it gets to much for you, please tell me?" he asked her. "Too much for me? As in walk away from you? Never hear your voice, kiss your lips, or feel your touch? Because of paparazzi? Will never happen. But I do promise to talk to you about it, ok?" "Ok!" he said, when the fence guy came in. "Baby, I gotta go now, but I'll see you soon, right? Can't wait! Muah! Bye!" and she hung up.

The estimate to put a brick wall all the way around her home with security camera's would run $50,000. Thinking for a moment of how serious she felt about Richie and did she feel it would be worth such expense. She didn't need to think long, "Do it!" she said. Writing a check. She planned on being with Mr. Richie Sambora for a long time to come.