Fools "Rush" In

Chapter 8 - Time for a Parlay

It was another two days before Elaina received a text message from an unknown number. It had a New York prefix and the message was short and sweet.

(202) 555-3348: This is Norman Reedus, are you Elaina Blackhawk?

(504) 555-6818: No, this is her business manager. If you can describe the shirt you spilled wine on, and what she used to clean it, I'll pass your number on to her.

(202) 555-3348: WTF? You serious?

(504) 555-6818: She can't be too careful. Some of your crazy ass fans vandalized her New Orleans home yesterday.

(202) 555-3348: I can't control what those people do.

(504) 555-6818: Really? How about letting them all know that she didn't steal your drumstick? Maybe let them know that it's all a misunderstanding?

(202) 555-3348: As soon as I have the drumstick back, I will. She was wearing a black t-shirt with the 2112 Album cover on the front, and she used club soda to clean the shirt. Oh, and she was wearing a white lacy bra and has a tattoo of a Raven between her shoulder blades.

(504) 555-6818: Call back at this number. She'll talk to you.

She had barely sent the text before the phone rang. She let it ring a few times while she swallowed the lump that had developed in her throat over the detail he'd given of her appearance.

"Hello," she answered and her voice was a little hoarse.

"It was you the whole time, wasn't it?" The deep scratchy voice she remembered from the week before asked.

"Well aren't you clever?" She responded and then added, "I had to be really careful; some of your fans are out for blood."

"I'll post something to take care of that. I know they can be vicious, but they're just protective of me."

"Protective? They wrote every derogative word for woman that exists on the building of my flat in New Orleans."

"Sorry... it's not like I meant for that to happen." He answered and sighed. "Point taken; can we talk about getting my property back?"

"Of course, we'll get to that. First, I want you to fully understand that I did not take your drumstick on purpose. Our jackets were hanging next to one another and you or your friend must have slipped it into my pocket thinking it was yours."

Silence stretched out down the line, and Elaina could envision him wrestling with the information. She knew it would be difficult to admit she was right. Finally, she heard him clear his throat.

"I'm gonna give you that one. Yaniv put it away and he admitted that he wasn't paying attention. Shane backed you up as well... said you had called the next morning trying to get it back to me."

This time, it was her turn to be silent. She was a little surprised that he'd taken any responsibility given her experience of him to this point. She wondered how he would take her plan for getting the stick back to him.

"Alright, Mr. Reedus, I'm going to text you back a set of coordinates. That's where you need to go to get the drumstick back."

"What are you talking about? I'll send you an address and you mail it back to me."

"Nope... that's not how this is going to go. You're going to come and get it, in person. I'll not give it to anyone else."

"Are you kidding me right now? Are you honestly trying to get me to come to your house? I mean, if you wanted a piece of me you probably should've been nicer back in San Fran." Norman was stunned at this turn of events, but he suddenly remembered the look that had crossed her face when he'd taken his sunglasses off. The memory made him much less hesitant to pay a personal visit.

Elaina chuckled across the line. "You're pretty sure of your own sex appeal, aren't you? Well, I can assure you that a physical encounter isn't what I'm after."

"Then why are you insisting that I come to you in person?"

"I have my reasons, which I'll explain to you once you're here. Now, I've got to get back to work. I'll text those coordinates. Please text me back when you can make it."

And then she was gone. Norman looked down at the phone and then flung himself back onto his bed. Staring at the ceiling he tried to remember the last time a woman had surprised him the way Elaina Blackhawk had. He knew that he'd go, even though his better judgement told him not to. He was fascinated by her; she was nothing like any woman he'd ever known, yet had every quality that he admired. She'd walked into that lounge and hadn't left his thoughts since.

When the text came in, he pulled the location up on Google Maps. Opening his contacts, he scrolled through until he came to his manager's name and hit the call button.

After a quick greeting, he sighed and asked "You ever heard of St. Francisville, Louisiana?"

"God, no... should I have?" Cindy asked with a laugh.

"No, probably not, but I need to you to figure it out and then book a flight for me to the nearest decent sized town."

"When do you need to be there, and can I ask what you're going for?"

"Sometime in the next week, I guess. I don't have to be back on set for 3 weeks, and I'm wrapped on Ride." Norman answered, and then after a few beats continued, "I'm going to retrieve something that belongs to me."

"Whatever, Norm... I'll send the confirmation to your email here shortly."

After hanging up, Norman brought his Instagram account up and snapped a selfie while making a sad face. Then he added a quick message about the mistake he'd made and that everyone needed to be cool about Elaina.