John Francis

Amanda ended up in the bar area, but in her inebriated and embarrassed state she quickly sat down at the bar, motioning for the bartender. When the bartender approached, without thinking she ordered a white wine, not considering that she had already had quite enough. She sat sipping her drink wondering where she had misplaced her calm, cool, and sober self and allowed “Manda the hussy” to take over.

Richie and Jon entered the lobby and moving in the opposite direction from the elevators, they found the bar…and Amanda. She was sitting on the stool, her right leg crossed over her left, absent-mindedly swirling her wine in the glass with her left hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Richie two steps away and reaching out with her right hand, she grabbed the front of his shirt. With bleary eyes she focused on him and drew him towards her.

“Do you want to live?” She asked him in a growl.

Laughing, but nodding yes at her, he assured her that he did indeed want to live.

“You did not see anything and you did not hear anything…you got it?”

She gave his shirt a shake and almost fell off the barstool. Jon was standing behind her, out of her sight, and reached to catch her, but stopped as she righted herself on the stool. Amanda, too intent on reading Richie the riot act, didn’t notice Jon was even there. Amanda continued, still holding onto Richie’s shirt.

Tears starting to form in her eyes she wailed, “Richie, I’m so embarrassed. All the guys saw me. I’m never drinking again,” apparently forgetting that vow in the next second as she downed the rest of her wine.

She also seemed to forget that Richie was one of the guys who had seen her. Jon was enjoying this way too much to interfere and waited to see what she would say next. He did see her practically strangling Richie with his own shirt as she moved him from side to side with the tight grip she had on his shirt,

Now grabbing his shirt with both hands, she shook him again and pulled him closer until they were almost nose to nose. His smile couldn’t get any wider as he tried to extricate himself from her .

“Richard! Did you hear me?”

“I hear ya, honey, I didn’t see anything and I didn’t hear anything.”

He didn’t have much success removing her hands and turned to see Jon almost doubled over with laughter. He threw his friend a look that was practically pleading for a rescue. At that moment, she shook him again.

“Richie, where’s Jon? I lost him when we got here. I lost the elevator too.”

He tried pointing behind her, laughing too hard to answer with words, but she wasn’t looking at him. Again, she shook him and pulled him towards her.

“Richie! Pay attention! You have to know where Jon is and I want you to tell me!” Her voice was a little loud now and had attracted the attention of the bartender.

“Everything okay here, folks?” He asked the three.

Jon and Richie waved their hands that yes, everything was okay, but Amanda turned to the bartender, dragging Richie with her.

“Do you know Jon? Do you know where he is?” She tried to focus on his face and scolded him to stop moving.

With laughter in his voice, the bartender asked, “Are you looking for Jon Bon Jovi?”

“No, I’m looking for John Francis. Do you know him?”

Richie and Jon were actually shaking with laughter now, unable to even speak. The bartender looked at the two men and the woman holding one’s shirt in a death grip and decided to just leave them alone. He did try one more time though.

“Ma’am, if you’re looking for Jon Bon Jovi, he’s right behind you.”

This finally penetrated. “Jon Bon Jovi is right behind me?”

“Yes, ma’am, he’s standing right behind you.”

Amanda turned in the chair, taking Richie with her. She saw Jon then and tried to get off the chair. Her grip on Richie prevented any forward momentum though and she turned to see what was holding her back.

Seeing Richie there, she scolded him. “Richie! Let me go! I found Jon.”

Tears were now running down Richie’s face as he finally got her to let go of his shirt by prying her fingers off. She was happy now as she could go to Jon. He caught her as she launched herself off the chair at him, almost knocking him down in her haste. He was still laughing at what he had just seen and as she started kissing him, he looked at Richie and made a motion with his eyes that they needed to get the hell out of here. Both men took an arm and helped Amanda to the elevator. Inside, she tried again to get to Jon, but the men maintained their grip and moved her finally to the door of his room. Jon got the door opened and after getting Amanda inside, Richie left, laughing until his sides were aching from what had just happened.

Once inside the room, Amanda pulled Jon towards her until her knees hit the back of the bed. She fell backwards onto the bed, taking Jon with her. She began kissing him at first with urgent passion and then slower and slower…and slower. Jon felt her mouth stop moving and saw that she had fallen asleep. Laughing ruefully, he undressed her and then himself and crawled into bed. He fell asleep still grinning.

~~~

Bright sunlight pierced the room the next morning. A shaft of it seemed to be pointed directly at Amanda’s eyes when she woke up and she gave a groan of pain. Grabbing the pillow, she buried her face in it, her head pounding and her mouth tasting like dry cotton socks, hundred-year-old dry cotton socks in fact. Her fussing movements woke Jon who lay there trying to remember if a beer or wine hangover was worse, not that it really mattered as he still felt like shit. He heard muffled moans and shielding his eyes from the light in the room, he put a hand on Amanda.

“Oh god, Jon, not now!” She wailed.

Since at this moment sex was the farthest thing from his mind, he poked her with his hand.

“John Francis Bongiovi, NOT NOW!” She yelled from underneath the pillow, then groaned even louder as her own voice hit her ears.

“Babe,” Jon croaked at her. “Stop yelling, you’re killin’ me!”

Managing to reach the hotel phone, he asked that coffee and a breakfast cart be sent up. They told him it was almost two in the afternoon and that breakfast was over. Jon, hung over and not in the best of moods, told them who he was and that he wanted breakfast, dammit. The person on the line hesitated for a moment and then assured “Mr. Bon Jovi” that a breakfast cart with extra coffee would be there within a half hour. Jon mumbled his thanks and got the phone back in the cradle.

Making himself move, he grabbed the pillow off Amanda’s head and the sunlight again pounded into her brain. He took her hand and half pulled and then finally ordered her to get off the damn bed. She had her head down, her face buried in her hair, and was grumbling for all she was worth, but got up when he told her to. He got her moving into the shower where he turned it on and they both put their foreheads against the cool tile and just slumped in the warm water.

Hurrying just a little as the coffee was coming, Jon showered and left Amanda after telling her to get her ass moving. He dressed in the hotel robe and was there to meet the server. He signed and gave a big tip, then poured himself a cup of coffee. He then walked over and immediately drew the drapes, plunging the room into muted sunlight. The shower was still running and he went back to see Amanda washing her hair, eyes closed, a look of pain on her face. He was on his third cup when she finally came out of the bathroom, her eyes deeply squinted. Seeing the room was darker, she opened her one eye a little further to make sure, but then got both open and went to the coffee pot.

Seeming to have more sugar and cream than coffee, she took a sip and shuddered. In a small voice, she told him that she hated wine hangovers. Jon then remembered which was worse, oh yeah, it was wine. He gave a half smile then, as his hangover was from beer. Amanda sat there with her coffee, her mind starting to remember the night before. Vague impressions were all she got at first and then things started to clear and she got a better picture.

“I am never drinking that much again!” Her voice was harsh with the pain in her head.

“Here…” he handed her three aspirin, “get these down - aspirin.” She took them gratefully, wincing at their bitter taste.

She started muttering words then. “Limo…bathroom…bar?” Her voice rose in a question at the last.

Laughing softly in deference to the pain in his own head, he answered her.

“Actually it was bathroom, limo, then bar, but yeah, that’s it.”

Raising her head in shock, she whispered, “We did not have sex in all three places, right?”

Softly shaking his head, he grinned. “No, just the bathroom, but you tried in the limo and the bar.”

“Oh my god!” She moaned, images coming back even clearer with his words. “The guys, the limo…holy shit!”

“Nothing happened, honey, I swear…” His voice was now thick with laughter and she looked at him suspiciously. Holding up his hands in an “honest” motion, he nodded again. “Nothing, babe.”

A thick sigh of relief came from her then and she slumped even further into her chair, then he heard her.

“Can I go home now, before anyone else wakes up?”

Laughing full out now, even though his head was screaming at him, he told her “hell no!” and then held his own head.

“You still owe me…” he grinned at her.

Her head snapped up then and she winced at the motion. “I owe you?”

“Yeah, all those promises and teasing and then you fell asleep in less than five minutes once we hit the room.”

Face red with embarrassment now, she groaned that he didn’t have to tell her that part, that she could have gone her whole life not knowing that.

The ringing of his cell stopped Jon’s answer.