Under the Rose Read online

  Table of Contents

  Under the Rose

  Sub Rosa

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  About the Author

  Under the Rose

  by

  P.F. Kozak

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  AMAZON KINDLE EDITION

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  Sagacity Press

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  Under The Rose

  Copyright © 2011 by P.F. Kozak

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This book is a work of fiction and is not intended to authentically reproduce actual events. While some of the events, places, and characters portrayed in this book are based in fact, the relationships between the public figures and the fictional characters are completely fabricated products of the writer's imagination and are not to be construed as real.

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  This Book Contains Adult Content

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  Sub Rosa

  Literally under the rose

  From the ancient use of the rose as a symbol of secrecy and privacy.

  In Greek mythology, Aphrodite gave a rose to her son Eros, the god of love.

  Eros gave it to Harpocrates, the god of silence, to ensure his mother's indiscretions were not disclosed.

  In the theatre, Sub Rosa is behind the curtain, backstage, in the wings, out of the public view.

  Sometimes, love is found

  Under the Rose

  Do you believe in love at first sight?

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  Chapter One

  Fred had to be exaggerating about Elliott Samson. Before they left for the theatre, Cassie told him straight out, "You're so full of it. I don't believe a word of this." They continued to bicker in the cab. Elliott had a reputation as a partier, a womanizer and an all around badass. Fred relished being flamboyant and outrageous, proudly wearing his gayness as a badge of honor. Cassie couldn't picture Fred and Elliott in the same room, let alone as best friends. Fred's sensibilities made him a brilliant interior designer, but a rocker's BFF? Not so much.

  After working with Fred for so long, Cassie knew a lot about him, actually more than she wanted to know. He'd hired her as a consultant before finally offering her a junior partnership at Chic Designs. Being nobody's fool, Fred recognized their collaboration had success flashing in neon pink. With Cassie as the architect and Fred's eye for aesthetics, they'd already landed several high-end clients. Their long hours and hard work had paid off. During all that time together, he'd never mentioned Elliott.

  When Fred waved a couple free tickets under her nose yesterday, she suggested he impress one of his boyfriends with the extra opening night seat. She'd made a big mistake by telling him she had laundry to do. He nagged incessantly, bitching about how effed up her priorities were and how she needed to get a life, until she finally gave in and agreed to go. He chided her, "Stop being a doubting Thomasina, missy. I have lots of friends you don't know. Elliott Samson is one of them." He never wavered in his insistence that he'd been close to Elliott since elementary school, and that Elliott had personally invited them to join him after the show.

  Elliott's performance blew Cassie away, and removed any doubt that he might be all hype and no substance. He really was a rock star, owning the stage from the moment he walked onto it until the end of the third encore. Even after the house lights came up, the standing-room-only crowd chanted for more. By the time they worked their way out of the theatre, there were already several hundred fans waiting behind barricades at the stage door.

  Fred took her hand and tried to edge his way through the mob. He yelled "Excuse me!" several times. It had no effect whatsoever. They couldn't move forward or go back. The crowd had closed in behind them.

  "Great, we're stuck." Cassie turned as much as she could and nearly elbowed the woman behind her in the stomach. "We can't even do a u-ey and go home."

  "Dearie, we aren't going home. We're calling the Marines."

  "Sure we are. Maybe we should call out the National Guard, too."

  "You'll see." Fred took his phone out of his jacket and dialed.

  "Hello, darling . . . Yes, I know you put us on the list, but we're stuck in the crowd . . . We're outside behind the barricade and can't get to the door . . . All right. I'll wave my handkerchief over my head so he sees us." Fred put his phone back in his pocket and took out his monogrammed hankie.

  "Who did you call?"

  "Who do you think? He's sending someone to rescue us."

  "I mean, who answered the phone?"

  "He did. You don't think he answers his own phone?" Fred glanced around. "You know, I could get a frigging fortune for his number in this crowd."

  "Shhhhh! For crying out loud, we'll get trampled if anyone hears you."

  Fred leaned in close to her ear. "How much would you pay for it, love?"

  "Will you please stop? This guy is so out of my league. If he really did invite us backstage, it's because of you, not because of me."

  "Oh, my pretty, I think not. After I told him about you, he wanted to meet you. That's why he gave me two excellent house seats for tonight, so I would bring you to his show." Fred waved his hankie over his head when he spotted a burly man coming out of the stage door.

  Cassie folded her arms across her chest and stared at him. "This is news! What the devil did you tell him?" Obviously, Fred forgot to mention he'd had this conversation.

  "This and that, and some other things." Fred continued to wave, bringing to mind a damsel waving her handkerchief at a passing knight. "Oh, would you look at him? Remember Squash in Victor/Victoria? This one looks just like Alex Karras."

  The beefy man saw Fred waving and came over to the barricade. He yelled over the heads of the crowd, "Fred and Cassie?"

  Fred shouted back. "That's us."

  With the authority of someone from the inner circle, their brawny liberator took charge. "Move to the side folks, people coming through." He used his arm as a dividing point in the crowd and yelled again. "Make a path and let these people through."

  Fred grabbed her hand again. "It's now or never." This time, when he shouted "Excuse me," the people that wouldn't budge earlier shifted slightly. He dragged her though a crack in the crowd barely big enough for one person, let alone two. As they approached the barricade, Cassie realized they were completely fenced in.

  "I can't crawl over that thing in a suit." They'd left from the office, she didn't have time to go home and put on concert clothes.

  "Not to worry, dear. Mr. Man is moving it for us."

  Sure enough, their new friend had unlatched a section of the metal barricade and pulled it out just enough for them to squeeze through. Their successful escape brought a round of applause from the onlookers, as well as a few shouts of, "Take me in with you!"

  After he replaced the makeshift gate, the fellow took them inside. "Why didn't you folks use the door beside the stage? That's a hell of a lot easier to get to than this one?"

&nb
sp; "Elliott said use the stage door. I thought he meant the one outside."

  "The stage door is inside. They call this the back door and the alley out there the catwalk. Elliott will work it later. He always signs autographs and poses for pictures after a gig. The girls love him."

  Cassie muttered, "So I've heard." Fred pinched her arm. "Ouch! What was that for?"

  "Because I'm supposed to be the bitchy one, not you." He patted the top of her head. "Be nice, dear."

  Cassie pushed his hand away. "I don't know how I let you talk me into this, I just want to go home and do my laundry."

  Fred ignored her. Instead he asked their companion, "What's your name?"

  "I'm Gus, Elliott's tour manager."

  "You're Gus? My word, I had no idea. Elliott told me all about you." From the look Fred gave Gus, Cassie wondered if his resemblance to Squash went beyond appearance.

  "He told me all about you, too, said you two grew up together."

  Fred pointed at Cassie. "Tell her that. She still doesn't believe it."

  Gus rounded a corner and stopped beside a sign that read Dressing Rooms. The arrow pointed down a narrow staircase. "From the sounds of it, you're as close to a brother as Elliott has."

  "I told you." Fred pursed his mouth and stuck out his tongue at Cassie.

  Gus interrupted. "Save that for later." This time, Gus gave Fred a once over. They definitely had more than Elliott in common. "C'mon, the man is waiting for you."

  Fred and Cassie followed Gus down the narrow, dimly lit flight of stairs. Cassie noticed it looked more like the basement of an abandoned building than it did a Broadway theatre. The dreary hallway needed some showbiz glitz--funky track lighting, a fresh coat of paint and show posters would give it some razzle-dazzle.

  From around the corner, she heard the sounds of a party in full swing. It suddenly hit her. Not only was she about to meet this larger than life star, there would probably be other big names in there. Talk about being a fish out of water! What the hell would she say to them? She abruptly stopped. Fred ran into her.

  "Slamming on the brakes without signaling is asking to be rear-ended. What's wrong?"

  "Since he's your friend, maybe you should do this yourself. I'd rather just go home."

  Gus heard her. "No way, sweetheart. Elliott told me he couldn't wait to meet Fred's friend Cassie. He'll hand me my ass if I let you leave."

  Fred threaded his arm though hers. "You heard the man. For my sake, help him keep his ass."

  Gus held Cassie's other arm and took a conciliatory tone. "Did you like the show?"

  "Of course I did, Elliott is incredible."

  "Tell him that. If after you meet him, you still want to leave, I'll get you out to the street. Deal?"

  "How can I say no with the two of you holding me here?" She pointedly stared at Fred. "If he's expecting some sort of glamour-puss, he's going to be really disappointed."

  "Gus, do you think Elliott will be disappointed?"

  "Hell, no. I think she's exactly what he needs."

  "So do I."

  Cassie felt like Dorothy being led toward the Wizard of Oz's chamber. As they approached the dressing room, the too loud laughter spilled into the hall. Another muscular member of Elliott's entourage stood at the door screening people. When he saw them with Gus, he gave them a thumbs-up and waved them in.

  Cassie had another flash of Dorothy stepping from a black and white world into the color-filled Land of Oz. They left the drab tenement-like hallway behind and entered a narrow room awash with color and light. The bulbs around the long mirror made the bright red walls glow. There were notes of congratulations stuck on the mirror and bouquets of flowers lined the countertop.

  At least a dozen people already filled the narrow space. Another woman came in behind them and brusquely passed, bumping into Fred. Cassie stepped back to let her through and nearly knocked over an open bottle of champagne on the counter. Thankfully, Fred caught it, and set it back beside an elaborate flower arrangement, out of harm's way.

  The tall blonde stopped to speak to Danny DeVito and Rhea Perlman. Of course Cassie recognized her. Brenda Leland's picture was everywhere. Cassie even saw her in an ad on the side of a bus this morning. It didn't matter that the critics panned her last couple movies. The paparazzi loved her, and so did the gossip columnists.

  "Fred, do you see who that is?"

  "I see. What I don't see is Elliott. Gus, where is he?"

  "He's in here somewhere. I'll find him." Gus navigated through the visitors toward the back of the room.

  Fred didn't seem at all impressed by the familiar faces, but Cassie certainly was. She never expected to see Brenda Leland. Supposedly, Brenda and Elliott hit the skids and left tire marks.

  Cassie poked Fred in the side and whispered, "What is Brenda doing here? Didn't she have a big fight with Elliott in a restaurant a few days ago?"

  "You've been watching too much Access Hollywood. Try turning on PBS, you'll learn more."

  "Smart ass. I saw it on the CNN website. They even showed her bitch-slapping him."

  "It's terribly sad to hear CNN reports tabloid news. Don't believe everything you read."

  "Are you saying they didn't have a fight?"

  "Not the way it was reported. I can't say anymore, I promised Elliott." Fred leaned forward straining to see. "There he is, back there by that costume rack changing clothes."

  Fred grabbed her hand and pulled her through the assemblage of guests. With a barely audible, "Pardon me," he dragged her right in front of Brenda, and proceeded to claim the space closest to Elliott. Cassie flushed with embarrassment. She couldn't believe Fred had been so rude. Her cheeks got even hotter imagining her freckles popping out like crimson polka dots. She barely had time to collect herself before she stood face to face with Elliott Samson.

  He was still buttoning his shirt. The close-up pictures Cassie had seen didn't adequately capture Elliott's rugged masculinity, his unruly mop of dark brown hair framed a chiseled face that would've made Rodin take notice. She expected him to be attractive, she didn't expect him to be this striking.

  "Well, hello there! Glad to see you finally made it." He shook Fred's hand, then hugged him. "Sorry I didn't explain which door to use."

  "No harm done, Gus saved us from your groupies." Fred wasted no time with pleasantries. "Elliott, this is Cassie Fitzgerald. Cassie, may I introduce my friend Elliott Samson?"

  The man Cassie watched mesmerize a packed house less than an hour ago now took her hand. It wasn't so much a handshake as it was holding her hand in his. "What a pleasure to finally meet you. For Fred to talk about a woman as much as he has you . . ." Elliott smiled before he continued. "Well, let's just say that's very unusual."

  It was hard to concentrate with Elliott holding her hand. Cassie forced herself to focus and be gracious, and to stop wondering how much his perfect teeth had cost. "Sounds like Fred might have gone a bit overboard, but thank you. I really enjoyed the concert, it was good of you to invite us." That must have sounded incredibly lame, but it's the only thing she could think to say.

  "I'm glad you agreed to come. From what Fred told me, it was a hard sell."

  "Fred talks too much." Cassie hadn't meant to blurt that out. "No offense to Fred, of course."

  Cassie expected Fred to jump in with a zinger. When he didn't, she turned to see why. Fred and Gus were both watching Brenda, who had her eye on Elliott. Almost too casually, Gus walked over to the counter and picked up an unopened bottle of champagne. His position effectively blocked Brenda's view of Elliott. While tearing off the gold foil, he quietly said, "Boss, do you know she's here?"

  "Who?"

  "Brenda."

  Elliott's grip on Cassie's hand tightened. "You're fucking kidding me. Who let her in?"

  "Not me. She must've bullshitted her way in." Gus popped the stopper and filled two flutes. He gave one to Cassie and the other to Fred. Cassie now had a glass of champagne in one hand and Elliott's hand in the other.


  "How the hell am I going to avoid her in here? I have to say hello to everyone. The last thing I want is another public pissing contest."

  Fred stepped into the middle of the fray. "Elliott, we've got your back. I'll go talk to her, take Cassie with you and make the rounds. Cassie, stick to him like glue, don't let Ms. Psycho Bitch corner him."

  Elliott smiled. "Go for it, Fred. Use your charm to win her over. That'll buy me a little time." Then he said to Cassie, "If you'd rather not get involved, I certainly understand."

  Fred looked angry. Cassie could tell he was ready to take Brenda out if she started anything, and with his sharp tongue, it wouldn't be pretty. It seemed this brother thing might be for real, he wanted to help Elliott. It startled her to realize, so did she.

  "I'll walk with you, if it'll keep you out of trouble. Tell me what to do."

  Before he answered her, he glanced at Fred. "Good call, buddy."

  Behind her, she heard Fred say, "You should know by now I'm always right." Cassie wondered if they were talking about more than Brenda.

  "Cassie, all I want you to do is agree with me. Jump in and follow my lead if you want, but don't contradict me. Are you cool with that?"

  "I'm cool with it. Just don't tell anyone I'm having your baby."

  Elliott's grin wiped the tension from his face. As Fred passed by on his way to intercept Brenda, he patted Cassie's back and whispered, "I knew you'd come through. Just be yourself, that's all he wants." Again, the implication sounded deeper than the impromptu ruse.

  The outsider feeling faded as Cassie walked with Elliott. Despite the specter of unpleasantness in the background, he seemed completely at ease and cordial. First, he introduced her to his agent, then to his record producer. There were several people there from his label, all of which chatted briefly, then left. Cassie didn't say much more than hello to them. All the while, Elliott held her hand.