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Stuck by a Drummer- The Adventure Continues
Pete and I instinctively moved closer to one another as we watched Steve's face grow darker with anger.
"Look, Taura, up til now we've been relatively nice to you. And that's been even AFTER you got an English pen pal to steal letters from our mailbox, faked Pete's autograph on a dozen cracked leather jackets to sell them at your piece of shit clothing store, and told everybody on the fucking internet that I had a dick extension. But tracking us down here is too bloody much."
Pete's eyes were the size of saucers as he took in Steve's tirade. Me, I was just as shocked. How the hell had Taura found us here? Was she in England?????
"Turn off the waterworks, sweetheart. I'm not impressed. I can't feel anything but annoyance and revulsion right now. It's over; collect what's left of your brain cells and go chase Duran Duran- they could use a revival about now. BYE."
He slammed the phone back on its cradle. Pete and I exhaled collectively. "Is that crazy bitch in London?" the singer asked with equal parts excitement and dread.
"I don't know and I didn't ask," Steve replied aggressively. He paused and gave me a long, searching look. "YOU didn't say anything she could have overheard, did you, KC?"
"Me? No. I didn't even know when I boarded the plane that I would end up at this hotel. You added that part."
"You never told her that you were coming to London?"
"No."
"Lay off, Stiggy," Pete said in a surprisingly gentle voice. "KC's not that stupid, even if her fashion sense is strictly out of Razzamatazz."
I turned to him, about to open my mouth and give him a piece of my mind. His cocky but not unfriendly smirk told me that he was just bantering with me. Being holed up in a London hotel room with psycho fans calling can bring people together in the strangest ways.
"OK, whatever." Steve seemed anxious to be done with the subject. "Look, I don't know about you two, but I'm fucking starving."
"Me too," Pete sighed. "But I'm supposed to be: I'm dieting."
"I'm going to MacDonald's." Steve sat on the bed and tightened his boot laces. "Pete, stay here in case Lynne shows up in the next 20 minutes or so."
"Fine. Just don't forgot to bring me a salad....with creamy dressing."
"You coming?" Steve stood up and faced me.
All I really wanted to do by that point was crawl into bed for a good long nap, but I said was, "Let me get dressed."
"You're really going to MacDonald's with him?" Pete asked as I tugged my jeans back on and picked up my shirt.
"Why? Is there some reason why I shouldn't?"
All he did was smile, flop on the bed (which was still warm and rumpled from our fuckfest) and flip on the TV. "You'll see."
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