partygirl43
Refugee
FICTION!!!!!!! FICTION!!!!!!!! FICTION!!!!!!!!
Chapter 15
I finished packing and went downstairs; Bono and my Uncle were just leaving the study.
“I’m done.” I said.
My Uncle turned to me with a hug, lingering longer than normal. “I love you Ansleigh.” He said.
“I’ll just be downtown, Uncle Paul.”
“I know.” He said, and then turned to Bono “I trust she’ll be in your good care.”
“Paul.” Bono said taking my Uncles hand, looking over his Armanis’ “It was good to see you.”
We sped back to the apartment so we could get ready to go out. I had planned on taking Bono to a great blues club called Rosa’s. It wasn’t anything fancy at all, just one of those hidden gems.
I put on a great Herve Leger dress, ice blue, off the shoulder with ¾ sleeves. I curled my hair loosely and shook it out. I smiled at myself in the mirror. Bono was waiting for me in the living room, clad in a white shirt, black jacket and dark jeans.
“Oh my God.” He said when he saw me, drawing a deep breath in.
I smiled; the magic of a Herve Leger had worked. “It’s not me, it’s the dress.” I said.
He shook his head, “No way. It’s not just the dress.” I kissed him, “Thanks.” I said as we parted.
My car was waiting for us. We got in and he turned to me. “Ansleigh, I hope you don’t mind, but I made reservations for us at NoMi.”
“No problem, I didn’t make any dinner plans. We’re off to the Park Hyatt.” I smiled.
We deposited the car with the valet and were met inside by a Very Important Person from the Hyatt who whisked us upstairs to the private dining room at NoMi. All the while I noticed, peripherally, people’s reactions. Mostly, it was bewilderment. It was amusing to watch.
NoMi, as always was beautiful. The main dining room was impossibly chic overlooking Michigan Avenue; gorgeous Chihuly chandeliers glowed, like curious sea creatures hanging in the air.
“You really know how to impress a girl.” I smiled. We took our seats, “Well, I figure a dress like that deserves no less.” He grinned. The wait staff poured water and wine for us, and then the Chef came out. He smiled at Bono, putting one hand on his shoulder and shook the other. They looked like old friends.
“So I was excited when I heard you would be visiting us. How are you?” the chef asked smiling. He sounded French.
“I’m doing well,” Bono replied “I’m here in Chicago to see my friend Oprah on the TV.” The chef let go of Bono’s hand and he turned to me, “And who is this lovely creature?” He took my hand, charmingly in both of his. Bono’s brow raised and he grinned.
“This is the lovely Ansleigh Fisher.” He said.
“Oh.” replied the chef, “Are you Paul’s daughter?”
“Yes.” I smiled, “it’s nice to finally meet you. My Uncle loves your cooking.”
“Your Uncle is a kind man,” he said. “It’s nice to finally meet you as well.” He let go of my hand and brought both of his together in front of him, “I have an excellent menu planned, so just relax and enjoy.” He patted Bono’s back and turned to leave.
I sipped my wine as the first course was delivered to us. “Well, I hope after all of this fabuless-ness, you won’t be disappointed in my little field trip.” I said.
Bono leaned in “Fabuless-ness? Is that really a word? It sounds like something the girls might say.” His eyes went wistful, blue eyes clouding over. I took his hand and gave it a squeeze. He cleared his throat. “So have you given any more thought about Oprah?” he said changing the subject quickly.
“No.” I said shaking my head. “I haven’t given it any more thought.”
“She says ‘Hello”.” He smiled.
I rolled my eyes, “Hello Oprah.”
He straightened in his chair, “Well, she said she’d welcome you on the show. I think it would be a good idea.” He smiled at me like I was George W. Bush and he was asking for foreign aid. He was trying very hard to sell his plan. I sipped more wine.
“So you’d basically introduce me to a million people as your girlfriend? How exactly is this supposed to be good?” I questioned. He finished his bite and said, “I think it would take the wind out of the presses’ sails, it would avoid the rumor and speculation.”
I nodded slowly, “You’re not going to jump on Oprah’s furniture are you?”
Images of Tom Cruise flashed in my head.
He laughed, “I can’t? Oh man, I was really hoping too.” I pinched him playfully on his arm.
“No, I promise, I will not jump on any couches.” He said, raising his right hand.
I sighed, “OK, I’ll go on.”
He eyes sparkled, “Good. Taping is in one more day. I’ll call O and set everything up.”
I took a big sip of wine, realizing I seriously needed to improve my negoating skills. I wondered if anyone at the UN gave lessons.
When dinner was finished the chef came back out to say good-bye, “Everything was terrible!” Bono joked as they hugged. He took my hand and suavely kissed it, “Ms. Fisher, tell your Uncle I said Hello.”
I smiled, “I will, Thank you for a lovely dinner.”
“Well, you are both welcome.” He said and turned to leave. A man dressed in a black suit, holding a walkie talkie waited by the door and hustled us downstairs as soon as my car was brought around. Again, there were double takes and stunned expressions. I drove to Rosas. I was nervous bringing Bono to this neighborhood. I wished for Tom’s glowering presence as thoughts of WGH’s nightly newscast flashed through my head “Heiress and rock star robbed on the Southside, news at 10”. I looked at him and smiled as he bobbed his head to the music that played on the satellite radio. We parked the car and entered the bar. It was a long narrow space with a well weathered bar on the length of one side. Old photos of musicians and concert posters packed the walls. The stage was at the back of the room, bathed in a blue light. Rosas was the complete opposite of NoMi’s hyper-chicness. It was unpretentious and comfortable.
We took some seats at the end of the bar closest to the stage. The crowd was a very eclectic mix. Old bluesmen, college age frat guys, black and white. Hardly a head looked up from their conversations or drinks when we entered.
Bono smiled and nodded his approval, “Great place, Ans.”
The bartender was a small, punk rock pixie girl. She slapped down two cocktail napkins and looked at us nonplussed. “So what’ll you have?” she asked.
“I’ll have a Vodka Tonic.” I said.
“I’ll have a JW neat.” Bono said.
I turned in my seat to lean closer to him “Wait till the music starts, these guys are amazing.” I smiled. Then I gave him a quick kiss. “This is kind of like our first date.” I said into his ear.
“Yes, I guess it is.” He replied.
We had another round and watched the band set up their gear. Bono watched them with keen interest. Soon a college age guy ambled up to us.
“Um, excuse me.” He said. “Are you Bono? Because you look like Bono. And my friends are like, why would Bono be in Chicago? So are you him?” He sounded so quick and nervous, like he could not get rid of the words fast enough.
Bono smiled graciously, “Yes, I am.”
“Duuuude.” The college age guy said dumbfounded. He sort of looked at me in a panic, like a person looking for a life preserver. I asked his name.
“My names Dave.” He said, now slightly trembling.
“Dave” Bono said “How’s this band tonight?”
I watched Bono work his magic. Dave transformed from a quivering mass to a person carrying on a normal conversation. Much like a hostage negotiator or bomb squad technician, Bono was highly skilled in the art of defusing situations. It was amazing to watch up close. Bono and Dave spoke for a couple of minutes, than Bono grabbed a cocktail napkin and a pen. He drew a cute picture and signed his name, giving it to Dave. Dave’s eyes beamed and he practically floated back to his table. I smiled at Bono and he smiled back at me, we didn’t need to exchange words. Just then I felt a finger poking me on the shoulder.
“Ansleigh Fisher!” the tone was scolding. I turned around, it was Luke.
“Luke Porter.” I replied, and then I turned to Bono. “Bono, you remember Luke Porter from the fundraiser?” Luke took his hand and shook it.
“Of course,” Bono replied. “How’s politics, Luke?” I think Luke was startled that Bono remembered.
“Ah, it’s going well, thanks.” Luke replied. Luke turned to me and leaned into my ear. The bar was getting louder as the band started to tune up.
“You lying liar!” he said.
“Luke,” I grabbed his arm, slightly digging my nails into him. “Please listen to me.”
He nodded, “OK, go ahead” he said as he crossed his arms.
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you. The truth is I couldn’t. We were trying to be discrete.” I was yelling into his ear.
He rolled his eyes at me, “Ans, I can’t believe you couldn’t trust me.”
“Luke,” I said pleading my case, “You know how hard it is dating normal people. This is a thousand times more difficult. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s the people around you. I’m sorry, you were right—here I am, with the King of Ireland, just like you predicted.”
His eyes went soft and he gave me a hug, “God damn, you’re dating fucking Bono.” He said into my ear. I grabbed Luke’s arm tighter, finally happy to be sharing my news with a friend. If I was alone with him, I’d probably be jumping up and down, but for now all I could do was say, “I know, it’s crazy, isn’t it?”
“It makes perfect sense to me,” Luke replied. “I’m really happy for you. Bono’s a lucky bastard.”
The music was starting, and Luke turned back to Bono and patted his back, “Hey man, enjoy the show.”
Bono shook his hand hardily. “So the next time I’m here, maybe you’ll be the Mayor?” he smiled.
Luke grinned, “Maybe an Alderman, man.”
The music was awesome and it looked like Bono enjoyed the show. As the band broke down their equipment Bono went to talk to the musicians. The crowd got thin. Over the PA’s old 90’s hip-hop played and some of the remaining ladies started to dance in the corner of the room. Emboldened by my buzz and lured by the beat I went over and joined in their impromptu dance party. I was sort of dancing by the cool bartender girl and she leaned towards me, “So is that really him?’ she asked into my ear. I nodded and said “Yes.” into hers.
“Who are you?” she leaned back in.
“My name’s Ansleigh.” I said. She looked at me like she was confused, then said “How?” I understood what her short hand meant. I spoke into her ear. “We met at a party.” She nodded, satisfied with my quick answer. We continued to dance; I closed my eyes moving to the music, getting lost in it a little. I opened my eyes and I caught him. I caught him looking at me as I danced. He smiled crookedly and I held his gaze for a moment, and smiled back.
We left after the band backed their gear. The city was so still and quite. The air held a hint of winter. Bono took my hand as we walked the empty street to the car. He started to hum, than sing:
“Tonight, the moon is playing tricks again. I’m feeling sea-sick again; the whole world could dissolve into a glass of water.” He twirled me around, continuing his serenade “but if you wear, that Leger dress.” He smiled. “Thanks for a great evening.”
I took his hands as we stopped and I faced him. “I’m so in love with you.” I said. He did not say anything but reached out to touch my cheek and traced my lips with his finger. “You’re really beautiful Ansleigh, in every way I can think of.” He looked at me intensely, as if he was trying to mark the moment in his mind. Then he kissed me; at first softly then harder, his hands on my waist, in the middle of the still, quite street.
The whole world could have indeed, dissolved into a glass of water at that moment.
Chapter 15
I finished packing and went downstairs; Bono and my Uncle were just leaving the study.
“I’m done.” I said.
My Uncle turned to me with a hug, lingering longer than normal. “I love you Ansleigh.” He said.
“I’ll just be downtown, Uncle Paul.”
“I know.” He said, and then turned to Bono “I trust she’ll be in your good care.”
“Paul.” Bono said taking my Uncles hand, looking over his Armanis’ “It was good to see you.”
We sped back to the apartment so we could get ready to go out. I had planned on taking Bono to a great blues club called Rosa’s. It wasn’t anything fancy at all, just one of those hidden gems.
I put on a great Herve Leger dress, ice blue, off the shoulder with ¾ sleeves. I curled my hair loosely and shook it out. I smiled at myself in the mirror. Bono was waiting for me in the living room, clad in a white shirt, black jacket and dark jeans.
“Oh my God.” He said when he saw me, drawing a deep breath in.
I smiled; the magic of a Herve Leger had worked. “It’s not me, it’s the dress.” I said.
He shook his head, “No way. It’s not just the dress.” I kissed him, “Thanks.” I said as we parted.
My car was waiting for us. We got in and he turned to me. “Ansleigh, I hope you don’t mind, but I made reservations for us at NoMi.”
“No problem, I didn’t make any dinner plans. We’re off to the Park Hyatt.” I smiled.
We deposited the car with the valet and were met inside by a Very Important Person from the Hyatt who whisked us upstairs to the private dining room at NoMi. All the while I noticed, peripherally, people’s reactions. Mostly, it was bewilderment. It was amusing to watch.
NoMi, as always was beautiful. The main dining room was impossibly chic overlooking Michigan Avenue; gorgeous Chihuly chandeliers glowed, like curious sea creatures hanging in the air.
“You really know how to impress a girl.” I smiled. We took our seats, “Well, I figure a dress like that deserves no less.” He grinned. The wait staff poured water and wine for us, and then the Chef came out. He smiled at Bono, putting one hand on his shoulder and shook the other. They looked like old friends.
“So I was excited when I heard you would be visiting us. How are you?” the chef asked smiling. He sounded French.
“I’m doing well,” Bono replied “I’m here in Chicago to see my friend Oprah on the TV.” The chef let go of Bono’s hand and he turned to me, “And who is this lovely creature?” He took my hand, charmingly in both of his. Bono’s brow raised and he grinned.
“This is the lovely Ansleigh Fisher.” He said.
“Oh.” replied the chef, “Are you Paul’s daughter?”
“Yes.” I smiled, “it’s nice to finally meet you. My Uncle loves your cooking.”
“Your Uncle is a kind man,” he said. “It’s nice to finally meet you as well.” He let go of my hand and brought both of his together in front of him, “I have an excellent menu planned, so just relax and enjoy.” He patted Bono’s back and turned to leave.
I sipped my wine as the first course was delivered to us. “Well, I hope after all of this fabuless-ness, you won’t be disappointed in my little field trip.” I said.
Bono leaned in “Fabuless-ness? Is that really a word? It sounds like something the girls might say.” His eyes went wistful, blue eyes clouding over. I took his hand and gave it a squeeze. He cleared his throat. “So have you given any more thought about Oprah?” he said changing the subject quickly.
“No.” I said shaking my head. “I haven’t given it any more thought.”
“She says ‘Hello”.” He smiled.
I rolled my eyes, “Hello Oprah.”
He straightened in his chair, “Well, she said she’d welcome you on the show. I think it would be a good idea.” He smiled at me like I was George W. Bush and he was asking for foreign aid. He was trying very hard to sell his plan. I sipped more wine.
“So you’d basically introduce me to a million people as your girlfriend? How exactly is this supposed to be good?” I questioned. He finished his bite and said, “I think it would take the wind out of the presses’ sails, it would avoid the rumor and speculation.”
I nodded slowly, “You’re not going to jump on Oprah’s furniture are you?”
Images of Tom Cruise flashed in my head.
He laughed, “I can’t? Oh man, I was really hoping too.” I pinched him playfully on his arm.
“No, I promise, I will not jump on any couches.” He said, raising his right hand.
I sighed, “OK, I’ll go on.”
He eyes sparkled, “Good. Taping is in one more day. I’ll call O and set everything up.”
I took a big sip of wine, realizing I seriously needed to improve my negoating skills. I wondered if anyone at the UN gave lessons.
When dinner was finished the chef came back out to say good-bye, “Everything was terrible!” Bono joked as they hugged. He took my hand and suavely kissed it, “Ms. Fisher, tell your Uncle I said Hello.”
I smiled, “I will, Thank you for a lovely dinner.”
“Well, you are both welcome.” He said and turned to leave. A man dressed in a black suit, holding a walkie talkie waited by the door and hustled us downstairs as soon as my car was brought around. Again, there were double takes and stunned expressions. I drove to Rosas. I was nervous bringing Bono to this neighborhood. I wished for Tom’s glowering presence as thoughts of WGH’s nightly newscast flashed through my head “Heiress and rock star robbed on the Southside, news at 10”. I looked at him and smiled as he bobbed his head to the music that played on the satellite radio. We parked the car and entered the bar. It was a long narrow space with a well weathered bar on the length of one side. Old photos of musicians and concert posters packed the walls. The stage was at the back of the room, bathed in a blue light. Rosas was the complete opposite of NoMi’s hyper-chicness. It was unpretentious and comfortable.
We took some seats at the end of the bar closest to the stage. The crowd was a very eclectic mix. Old bluesmen, college age frat guys, black and white. Hardly a head looked up from their conversations or drinks when we entered.
Bono smiled and nodded his approval, “Great place, Ans.”
The bartender was a small, punk rock pixie girl. She slapped down two cocktail napkins and looked at us nonplussed. “So what’ll you have?” she asked.
“I’ll have a Vodka Tonic.” I said.
“I’ll have a JW neat.” Bono said.
I turned in my seat to lean closer to him “Wait till the music starts, these guys are amazing.” I smiled. Then I gave him a quick kiss. “This is kind of like our first date.” I said into his ear.
“Yes, I guess it is.” He replied.
We had another round and watched the band set up their gear. Bono watched them with keen interest. Soon a college age guy ambled up to us.
“Um, excuse me.” He said. “Are you Bono? Because you look like Bono. And my friends are like, why would Bono be in Chicago? So are you him?” He sounded so quick and nervous, like he could not get rid of the words fast enough.
Bono smiled graciously, “Yes, I am.”
“Duuuude.” The college age guy said dumbfounded. He sort of looked at me in a panic, like a person looking for a life preserver. I asked his name.
“My names Dave.” He said, now slightly trembling.
“Dave” Bono said “How’s this band tonight?”
I watched Bono work his magic. Dave transformed from a quivering mass to a person carrying on a normal conversation. Much like a hostage negotiator or bomb squad technician, Bono was highly skilled in the art of defusing situations. It was amazing to watch up close. Bono and Dave spoke for a couple of minutes, than Bono grabbed a cocktail napkin and a pen. He drew a cute picture and signed his name, giving it to Dave. Dave’s eyes beamed and he practically floated back to his table. I smiled at Bono and he smiled back at me, we didn’t need to exchange words. Just then I felt a finger poking me on the shoulder.
“Ansleigh Fisher!” the tone was scolding. I turned around, it was Luke.
“Luke Porter.” I replied, and then I turned to Bono. “Bono, you remember Luke Porter from the fundraiser?” Luke took his hand and shook it.
“Of course,” Bono replied. “How’s politics, Luke?” I think Luke was startled that Bono remembered.
“Ah, it’s going well, thanks.” Luke replied. Luke turned to me and leaned into my ear. The bar was getting louder as the band started to tune up.
“You lying liar!” he said.
“Luke,” I grabbed his arm, slightly digging my nails into him. “Please listen to me.”
He nodded, “OK, go ahead” he said as he crossed his arms.
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you. The truth is I couldn’t. We were trying to be discrete.” I was yelling into his ear.
He rolled his eyes at me, “Ans, I can’t believe you couldn’t trust me.”
“Luke,” I said pleading my case, “You know how hard it is dating normal people. This is a thousand times more difficult. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s the people around you. I’m sorry, you were right—here I am, with the King of Ireland, just like you predicted.”
His eyes went soft and he gave me a hug, “God damn, you’re dating fucking Bono.” He said into my ear. I grabbed Luke’s arm tighter, finally happy to be sharing my news with a friend. If I was alone with him, I’d probably be jumping up and down, but for now all I could do was say, “I know, it’s crazy, isn’t it?”
“It makes perfect sense to me,” Luke replied. “I’m really happy for you. Bono’s a lucky bastard.”
The music was starting, and Luke turned back to Bono and patted his back, “Hey man, enjoy the show.”
Bono shook his hand hardily. “So the next time I’m here, maybe you’ll be the Mayor?” he smiled.
Luke grinned, “Maybe an Alderman, man.”
The music was awesome and it looked like Bono enjoyed the show. As the band broke down their equipment Bono went to talk to the musicians. The crowd got thin. Over the PA’s old 90’s hip-hop played and some of the remaining ladies started to dance in the corner of the room. Emboldened by my buzz and lured by the beat I went over and joined in their impromptu dance party. I was sort of dancing by the cool bartender girl and she leaned towards me, “So is that really him?’ she asked into my ear. I nodded and said “Yes.” into hers.
“Who are you?” she leaned back in.
“My name’s Ansleigh.” I said. She looked at me like she was confused, then said “How?” I understood what her short hand meant. I spoke into her ear. “We met at a party.” She nodded, satisfied with my quick answer. We continued to dance; I closed my eyes moving to the music, getting lost in it a little. I opened my eyes and I caught him. I caught him looking at me as I danced. He smiled crookedly and I held his gaze for a moment, and smiled back.
We left after the band backed their gear. The city was so still and quite. The air held a hint of winter. Bono took my hand as we walked the empty street to the car. He started to hum, than sing:
“Tonight, the moon is playing tricks again. I’m feeling sea-sick again; the whole world could dissolve into a glass of water.” He twirled me around, continuing his serenade “but if you wear, that Leger dress.” He smiled. “Thanks for a great evening.”
I took his hands as we stopped and I faced him. “I’m so in love with you.” I said. He did not say anything but reached out to touch my cheek and traced my lips with his finger. “You’re really beautiful Ansleigh, in every way I can think of.” He looked at me intensely, as if he was trying to mark the moment in his mind. Then he kissed me; at first softly then harder, his hands on my waist, in the middle of the still, quite street.
The whole world could have indeed, dissolved into a glass of water at that moment.
that was such a lovely chapter!
