On the Road with Jersey Line: The confessions of a Wardrobe Assistant

Afterglow

The sun hit my eyes and the glare through the window woke me up.  I looked around the room that was similar to mine, but unfamiliar at the same time.  In horror, memories of the night before came back to me and I realized I was in Peter's room.  It only took a moment for me to realize I was alone in his bed.   I could hear the shower running, and knew this was the perfect time to make my escape.  I grabbed my clothes and after slipping into my dress, I picked up my shoes and quietly slipped out the door and into the hallway.  Luckily, my room was not too far from Peter's, so I was able to slip into my room unnoticed. 

The message light on my phone was blinking, so I put down my shoes and purse to listen to messages.  The first one was from Donna.  "Hey girl, what happened?  You never came back to the party!   Neither did Peter.   You didn't happen to see him?"  There was a pause, and I heard Joey's voice in the background.  Then Donna came back on.  "Okay, well.  Call me so I know you are okay." 

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The second and third messages were from Ronny.  "Hey babe, why aren't you answering your cell?"   Call me so I can explain .  . .

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The third message  he sounded a bit frantic.  "Baby - I'm sorry!   It isn't what you think!  Please call me!  I'm getting worried . . .

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The last message was from the front desk.  It was my wake up call.  I had to get dressed, finish packing and ready to leave for the airport.  There was no time for regrets, although I had many.   I had been warned about Peter by everyone when he joined the tour.  His British charm was irresistible, as was his love of shagging in elevators.  Although I knew this about him, I wasn't prepared for it to happen to me.  It was consensual, but at the same time, uninvited.  

I took a quick shower and dressed for the airport in a pair of yoga pants, Jersey Line tour shirt, tennis shoes and sunglasses.   I pulled my hair back into a pony tail and threw on a baseball cap.  No make up and a touch of lip gloss and I was ready to go down and meet the band.  We always hired black Chevy Suburbans for airport transportation,  the band members in one and the crew in the rest.  I rode with Sheila, the hair and make up crew and the medics.  I saw Peter, who blew me a kiss before climbing into his car.  I handed my suitcases to the driver then climbed into my car.  I noticed everyone grew quiet as I sat down.  I didn't think much of it, so I checked my purse to make sure I had my ticket and then I took out my cell phone.   There were 5 missed calls from Ronny, and text messages from Sheila, Donna and Ronny. 

I checked my voice mails and there were 3 from Ronny. 

"Baby, I'm so sorry about that!  Call me!"

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"Liza, it's not what you think!  I love you baby!  Please call me!"

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"Well, your phone must be off.  Calling the hotel"

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There were also voice mails from Donna and Sheila, but I didn't listen to them.

The text message from Ronny was a good morning emoji with hearts and roses

I didn't respond.  I looked up to see Sheila staring at me.  "What happened last night?"   I shrugged, and smiled.  "I'll tell you later."   

Sheila gave me an odd look, then took a magazine out of her bag.  The rest of the crew remained silent.  Some appeared to be hung over, while others preoccupied with their phones.  I put my phone away and leaned my head against the window and closed my eyes.  I wasn't ready to talk to Ronny, and the closer we got to the airport the more feelings of remorse and regret came over me.  Shagging Peter in the elevator was a stupid and impulsive act on both our parts, but carrying it over into his room and all night, there was really no excuse for it.   We did have fun emptying out his mini bar, then calling room service for champagne and oysters.  

Pete seemed to have an insatiable appetite and very skilled at lovemaking.  But he did so with no passion or emotion.  We both knew it was a one time act, not to be repeated or hung up about.  He was a very charming and spontaneous Brit.  His conquests were legendary.   I knew I was just another notch on his belt.   He wasn't a friend of Ronny's, though they did respect each other as musicians.  Peter was not aware of our relationship either, and deep down I figured if he had known, the events of last night would not have happened. 

After being dropped off at the airport and our luggage checked, it was suggested that we all reconvene at the Admirals Club for a quick hair of the dog before going our separate ways. 

Peter caught my eye, lowered his glasses and gave me a wink.  I smiled at him, but then looked away when he motioned for me to join him at the table.  I chose to sit by Sheila instead.   She nudged me and whispered "everyone noticed you and Peter didn't return to the party and neither of you were answering your phones."  

I looked at her and put my finger to my lips.   "Meet me in the ladies" I whispered back.  I excused myself from the table, and soon after Sheila and I met in the restroom.   I told her everything that transpired the evening before.   Sheila was not as surprised at the end of the tour as she would have been at the beginning.   She'd had a couple sexcapades herself with a roadie and a totally hot and outrageously flirtatious lighting tech. 

"Wow, that's a lot, Liza.   Are you okay?" 

I nodded my head yes, "Yeah, I'm okay.  I'm not proud of myself, but I'm not beating myself up.  It didn't mean anything.  I was just so angry, and I wasn't thinking about Peter's reputation with elevators".   Sheila laughed and told me that several of the party goers complained about one of the elevators being out for about half an hour.  Then most everyone put it together that it was Peter and me. 

I could feel my face flush with embarrassment, remembering the stares and silence on the ride to the airport.

"Oh shit!"  I cried.  "Everyone knows!" 

Sheila said "yeah, it was the hot topic at the party!"

I hesitantly walked back to our table.  It was starting to clear out as everyone's flights began to board.   Sheila was going to Georgia, so we hugged each other and went our separate ways. 

Peter waved at me as he headed for the international terminal for his flight to London.   I headed to the gate where my flight to Los Angeles was boarding.  My heart felt heavy and my head was throbbing.    My regret over the night before grew stronger the closer we got to LA.   Then panic set in.   What if I'm no longer welcome at his home?   Should I check into a hotel?  I needed to call him, but I was afraid.  My hands were trembling as we began our descent into LAX.    Would I be greeted with open arms?  Or my bags packed and waiting at the door?