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Toby regretted the words the second they were out of his mouth.  The look on Gus’ face positively frightened him for a moment.  And besides, it was Toby’s ace in the hole…his information -that no one else had.  He had discovered it on his journey through the Internet after his return from Europe.  He had held the secret close, not even writing it down.

Gus stood up.  Shit, he thought.  This isn’t good.  Okay, think this through.  Things have changed somewhat since you got hired.  Think!

He slumped his shoulders and adopted a humble tone.  “Aw jeez, Toby, you’re not going to tell on me, are you?”

“Tell on you?”

“I really need this job,” said Gus quietly, sneaking a peek at Toby from beneath lowered eyelids.  Gus wondered if he could work up a couple of tears.  “Rafe said if anyone found out, I’d be fired.”

“Well, Rafe doesn’t have to know I know,” said Toby, coming up to Gus and putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  “But why didn’t you tell me?  Why didn’t you trust me?”

Because you’re a sneaky, little weasel, thought Gus.  But instead, he chose to say, “I wanted to impress you on my own merits.  I wanted you to believe in me, that I could do the job, not just think I was someone foisted on you by Rafe.”

Toby put his arms around Gus and kissed his forehead.  “There, there, it’s okay.  I won’t tell.”

Gus put his arms around Toby and leaned his head on his shoulder.  He looked at the clock on the bedside table.  He guessed they’d be having a late supper.  He reached for Toby’s belt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nick made up his mind that he would have one more beer and then he was leaving.  He hated the snooty atmosphere of the place he was in, and he hated being stood up.  And it looked like that was about to happen.  He’d arranged to meet with Tamara at 11:00 for a late supper.  It was now 11:20, and she still hadn’t appeared.  The other tables had filled up with people coming from the benefit, so Nick knew the show was over.  He felt like an idiot sitting there by himself.  He’d called her cell phone once, but there was no answer, and he’d be damned if he’d do it twice.

Suddenly, she was there…and she wasn’t alone.  Nick stood up.

“Nicky, darling,” said Tamara, in her fake model voice that he hated.  She air-kissed both his cheeks, which she also knew he hated.  Then she motioned to the man behind her.  “This is Terence.  Terence, this is Nick Carter.” 

The two men shook hands. 

“Terence is joining us, if you don’t mind,” said Tamara.

Nick didn’t mind.  He shrugged and called the waiter over to ask for another chair.

“Terence is a photographer,” continued Tamara.  “From Vancouver.”  She gave Nick a pleading look.  Tamara had referred to Terence as the Prick from Vancouver a number of times in the beginning.

Nick looked at the photographer, at his hand that rested on top of Tamara’s, at the challenging look in his eye.  “Tamara says you’re brilliant,” said Nick.  “A bit of a prick to work with, but amazingly talented.”

Tamara laughed nervously.  Terence smiled.

“I like to do things a certain way,” said Terence, pompously.

The waiter came and took drink orders.  Nick watched the two people across from him.  He had never seen anyone so nervous.  He thought if he said ‘boo’ suddenly, that they would both jump at least three feet in the air. 

Nick was no dummy, he knew what was happening here.  He tried to figure out how he felt about it.  He decided that what he felt was an overwhelming sense of relief that he didn’t have to sleep with Tamara tonight.  He also wanted to get back to Mel.  Then he remembered that Mel wasn’t there.  She was out with Rafe.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” asked Nick, after the drinks arrived.

“Um…” began Tamara.  “I…um…”

“Me,” said Terence, abruptly.  “She wants to talk about me.”

Nick nodded.  He looked dramatically across the table at Tamara’s left hand.  “Are congratulations in order?”

“Well, we haven’t got quite that far yet,” stammered Terence.  “But we’re talking about it.”

Nick stood up.  The other two twitched.  Nick almost laughed.  He reached out a hand to Terence.  “Congratulations,” he said.  “She’s a great girl.”  He leaned down and kissed Tamara on the cheek.

They made small talk for awhile and sipped their drinks.  Tamara talked about the benefit, the people that were there…designers and other models.  The names meant nothing to Nick.  He was dying to ask about Rafe and Mel but didn’t know how to bring it up.

The waiter came back for food orders.  Nick announced that he wasn’t hungry and that he thought he would leave the two lovers alone. 

“Dinner’s on me,” he said, with a smile that let Terence know that there wasn’t going to be any threat here. 

The photographer guessed that Tamara was right.  She and Nick were just friends.  And Nick didn’t look like he’d have any trouble finding someone else to sleep with.

Nick made arrangements to cover their tab, and he called Jeff on the cell phone.  Jeff said he’d be right over and he’d call for the car.

Nick returned to the table to say his goodbyes.  As he was getting ready to leave, Tamara said, “Tell Melody I like her hair longer.”

“Who’s Melody?” asked Terence.

Tamara explained that she was the short woman in the black lace shirt who'd sat in the front row, 'the one who waved at me'.

"Oh," said Terence, "the one that was holding hands with the guy in the black suit?" 

Tamara nodded.  Yes, that was the one.

Nick mumbled his goodbyes and made his escape.  Rafe and Mel had held hands in public.  Nick wanted to throw up.  He had spent most of the evening convincing himself that Rafe was full of shit, but now…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Mart…”

Martha Jane had never heard her friend sound so sad. 

“Hey, Girl!  Girl that I’m seeing in less than a week’s time!”

Melody perked up.  “Yeah, I can hardly wait.  You’re not going to move before next week, are you?”

The two friends laughed and started the journey of small talk that would eventually lead to the centre of the maze.  They would talk about friends and family and the past and the future and eventually get to the middle…the heart of it.   And in the heart of it lately, stood a tall blond rock star.

They were still in Toronto.  It had been a very confusing few days.  First, there had been Ottawa…Mel had carefully explained the theory to Mart.  The ‘we’re going to sleep with each other once, just to get it out of our system and then we’re going to go back to being mature and professional’ theory. 

Martha Jane just shook her head.  Hank Aaron wouldn’t just hit this one out of the park.  He’d send it sailing into the next county!

“And?”

The problem with the theory, it seemed, was that it was working.  Nick was supposed to sleep with Tamara but that fell through when she showed up with another guy.

“How did Nick take that?”

“He seemed okay with it.  He always said they were just friends.”

But then Nick had not come knocking on her door. 

The first night in Toronto, she had been at the fashion show with Rafe.

“Talk about boring!  And I felt like a dwarf.  There wasn’t a woman there under 5’8”.”

Mart laughed.  “And you didn’t wear heels, did you?”

“No!” sniffed Mel.  “I wore heels in New York, remember?  That’s pretty much it for this year.  Unless I get invited to the Grammys.”

Mel and Rafe had gone out to dinner after the benefit.  Mel didn’t like starting dinner at a time when she was usually ending a concert and getting ready for bed.  She had been ravenous beforehand and had eaten enough canapés at the cocktail party following the show that Rafe was actually embarrassed.  When it came time for dinner, she was cranky…and angry with herself, because she couldn’t get Nick out of her head.

“Rafe was his usual charming self?” inquired Mart.

“I kind of felt sorry for him, actually,” laughed Mel.  “I mean, he’s such an arrogant prick, so sure of himself…everything so organized.  I bet he’s got all the stuff in his medicine cabinet lined up tallest to shortest… And then to have to deal with me…who was so NOT fashion show material.  I don’t know why he asked me in the first place.”

Martha Jane thought that the answer to that question could be the answer to them all.  But she said nothing.  She didn’t want to interrupt the flow of words.

“So we’re at this really trendy restaurant.  I’ve developed a theory, Mart…the further away the décor gets from the crayon box, the more trendy the spot.  If you can’t describe the place by saying red or blue or brown, then you’re upscale.  This place was terra cotta…and azure…and saffron.”

Mart snorted.  She knew exactly what Mel meant.  She and her husband had gone to a business dinner at just such a place recently.  “Good thing you stocked up on hors d’oeuvres at the party,” she laughed.  “’Cause I’ll bet the portions were pretty small!”

“You better believe it!  Honest to God, Mart, from the description on the menu, you’d think you were getting a full-course meal…’striped sea bass on a bed of basmati rice with an array of market-fresh vegetables’…and then it comes and there’s barely enough to fill a saucer, but they’ve served it on a flippin’ turkey platter…”

“Lots of parsley flakes sprinkled around the outside of the plate?” suggested Mart.

“There you go!  You’ve got it.  It was all just too pretentious…the whole evening.  I just wanted to get back to the hotel and…”  Melody paused and there was a long silence, while she searched for the words.  “…play my guitar,” she finished feebly.

Mel had been polite and pleasant and so had Rafe.  But they really didn’t have much to say to each other.  He asked her about the tour, how things were going, but the stuff that was important to her was not what was important to him.  She talked about the concerts and the music and the audience.  He wanted to know about the buses and the hotels and the reviews.  She never mentioned Nick’s guitar.  Neither did Rafe.

Martha Jane ended the silence.  “And the next day?” 

“Well, that’s when all the video stuff started happening…”

Mickey had flown in from L.A.  He was as excited as could be.  He’d seen some of the concert footage and wanted to build the video for Bridge to Nowhere around it.  He wanted to film the backstage stuff, get a flavor of what being on tour was really like.  Tofu said that Mel’s crossword puzzles were about to be immortalized on film. 

Everyone laughed, but Mickey zeroed right in on it.  Exactly!  That’s what we’re looking for!  They tried to film it, but Mel wouldn’t…or couldn’t…co-operate.  As soon as she knew the camera was on her, she stiffened up and couldn’t concentrate on the puzzle.  She never made it past eight seconds before she stuck her tongue out at the camera or crossed her eyes or something.  The rest of the crew was in stitches. 

Except for Nick.

“Look, leave me out of it,” said Mel, finally. 

There was no way Mickey was doing that.  Because he’s seen all the concert footage.  He’d seen Alias Me.  And he wanted to get Nick and Mel in the same shot.  He figured that might be difficult, since they hadn’t gone within ten feet of each other but…  He pulled back his crew and told them to go for candid shots…be unobtrusive…we’ll get the staged shots later.

The only tape they had of Nick and Mel by the end of the day wasn’t usable.  It was a tiny bit, just a few feet.  Nick had shared Tamara’s good news with them all, making them understand that it really was good news, that he and Tamara were just friends, that people shouldn’t start reading things into it. 

Melody had managed to find a few seconds to speak with him afterward, which wasn’t easy, since Nick seemed to be avoiding her.  She said in passing that she hoped everything was good with him and Tamara. 

Nick looked at her for a long moment and then said, “Well, it’s a good thing I got laid in Ottawa, I guess.”  And then he had walked away.

The camera hadn’t caught the words, only the look on Mel’s face. Mickey decided it wasn’t what they were looking for.